Page 11 of Never Landing

“Hi,” Everett said, out of breath, tipping forward but with his hands outstretched like he was trying to calm down a spooked dog. “Hi, please don’t run. I’m—I’m Everett.”

That knocked me out of my shock, at least a little.

“Yeah,” I said, “duh.”

He nodded fast, straightening his back, trying to smile even when it wavered on his lips. “So you...know who I am?”

What the heck? “Obviously.”

“Great. That’s...That’s so great. I—I think I knew your dad? He must’ve told you about me?”

Um, no he didn’t. I didn’t have a dad.

I scowled at him, leaning back and crossing my arms.

“I’d really like to—to see him again. You see, I just got back to town, and we—well, we were friends, back when we were your age. Really good friends.”

Yeah, before Everett had gone and gotten all stubbly on his face and weird. Why was he sotallnow? I hated how much taller than me he’d gotten. That wasn’t fair. None of this was fair.

“It’d mean the world to me if we could catch up,” he said, “and I was hoping maybe you could—if you could let him know I’m looking for him?—”

“Why are you looking for mydad?” I spat. There I was, right in front of him, and he wanted my freaking dad? Was that all he had to say to me?

“Well, yeah. Like I said, we were friends.”

I stared at him, unsure what to say. Did he...was he talking aboutme? Couldn’t he recognize me?

He couldn’t want to see me enough to get all tongue-tied and sparkle-eyed like this. If he did, then why had heleft?

“What’s your name?” Everett asked, leaning in again, like he was afraid I’d bolt and he wanted to catch me before I could. His eyes were wide, the whites obvious all around that sparkly blue.

“Really?” I shot back at him. “You don’t even know myname? I?—”

What the heck was I supposed to do with that? It was one thing for Everett to have left me, but to have forgotten me completely? We’d been best friends foryears.

I remembered sitting there in the dark in front of the box television when his grandma was asleep and his parents had gone out to dinner for a date night, both of us on the floor in front of the couch with our legs stretched out under the coffee table. We said it was because it was easier to get the snacks, but it was more than that.

Really, it was just easier to sit close to each other if we sat on the floor. It was easier to sneak our hands together under the coffee table without wondering who was going to catch us or if they’d have something to say about it.

We could sit there and watch a movie and bump our knees together. And I could still remember watching him from the corner of my eyes as the blue glow of the television fell over his face, remember catching him looking back at me and the way it felt when everything fell away and we stared at each other, the movie forgotten. I remembered biting my lip and feeling a spark in my chest that was almost,almostlike flying. I remembered the thrill of knowing that something was going to happen but not knowing what, the rush of warmth in my cheeks as I started to smile.

I remembered when he turned my way, the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed, how slowly he leaned in. Close and close and closer still.

And then, I remembered the warmth of his lips, how they tasted salty-sweet like the Cracker Jacks we’d been eating. We hadn’t known what we were doing, but that hadn’t mattered because kissing him felt nice, felt right. He was Everett and I was Peter and I could hold tight to his hand while he closed his eyes and his dark brown lashes fanned across his cheeks.

I could close my eyes too, and then there was just his mouth on mine, the warmth of his breath against my skin.

He’d made a little sound, almost like a hum, and my heart had swollen big in my chest and I’d been so, so damned happy becausethis—this was something new for both of us and it was fun and tingly and perfect andours.

And then the light in the foyer had come on, and we’d both jumped back, turning to the TV with red cheeks. The credits were rolling when his parents came in, but I didn’t know for how long.

They checked on us, asked about the movie, asked if I was staying the night, and when they left, even if we were too embarrassed to kiss again, Everett had reached for me under the table and threaded his fingers between mine.

That night, I’d hoped for somuch.

Now, my lips trembled. My eyes stung as I stared at him. And gods, I hated that tickling track down my cheek when I started to?—

I wasn’t crying! I didn’tcry. That was stupid. I’d have to be an idiot to cry over a boy who couldn’t even remember my name.

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