Ewan Whitecomb and my father could probably tie for the Worst Father award. He’s an unemotional and unattached distant parent who views his sons more as status symbols rather than loved ones.
“He was like me,” Jonah says quietly. “He was happy. In love. Had the worlds in front of him. When she died . . . he died, too. Or rather, the person he was died and a zombie took over. That’s what happens when you lose your Connection. Remember what it was like for us last year? When we were separated? Imagine that, times a thousand. Every second of every day, for the rest of a long-lived life you no longer wish to live, is pure misery and anguish. He wasn’t always an asshole, Chloe. Most people thought he was a really great guy.”
My heart aches for Jonah. For his dad.
“The same thing happened to Hannah too, after Joey died.” He looks lost as he talks about the people he considered to be his uncle and aunt. “You’re asking me to trust your decision, and I’m going to. But know it’s going against everything in me right now.” He moves closer, takes both hands in his. “I can’t lose you, Chloe.”
I raise our enjoined hands and kiss the backs of his knuckles. “You won’t. We’re forever, remember?”
When we kiss, all of the passion from the last twenty-four hours is missing. Instead, there is quiet desperation. And a hope, on both of our behalves, that we made the right choice.
The roller coaster of guilt and love that defines my life continues at a dizzying rate.
The day after Zthane briefed Jonah, I catch him and Kellan in an argument. I’ve just come back from running errands when I hear them yelling in Jonah’s side of the apartments.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Jonah?”
I flinch and hang back, far enough that neither of them can feel the pull toward me. It’s so rare to hear them argue out loud to one another that I can’t help but morbidly listen.
“The better question is, what the fuck is wrong with you, Kellan? Going off on Zthane in front of everyone?”
“Are you serious? You want me to apologize for that? Please. I don’t give two shits what people might have thought about me arguing against Chloe’s involvement in this mission. You though—you basically just gave her the go-ahead to get herself killed.”
Jonah is beyond furious. “Did you ever stop to recognize that forbidding Chloe is pretty much a surefire way of getting her to rebel? Do you not remember what happened when she took off to San Francisco? She walled us up in a building!”
Silence.
“Jesus! NO. No, I am NOT OKAY WITH ANY OF THIS,” Jonah yells in response to whatever Kellan just said in their heads.
My stomach twists. Burns. I grapple for the ibuprofen in my purse.
“If anything happens to her, I swear to all the gods, Jonah. . .” Something is hit. A wall maybe?
A pause precedes, “Thanks for the heads up. But, frankly, Kellan, this isn’t any of your business. This is between her and me. So butt the hell out.”
“Fuck you, Jonah.”
I have to lean back against the wall to steady myself. I swallow a handful of pills, but my stomach only churns more.
“Yeah? Right back at you. Stop acting like you’re—”
“Like I’m what? Her Connection?” Kellan laughs bitterly. “Sorry, bro. No can do, but not for lack of trying. But the way I figure it, I’ve got every right to act the way I do and you’ve got nothing to say about that.” He pauses, then delivers the next blow with deft precision. “It eats you alive that she loves me. You like to pretend like you hold her heart, but you don’t. At least, not exclusively. Sucks, doesn’t it, J?”
Oh, gods. I’m seriously going to throw up. My stomach is on fire. I double over and hug myself. They’re fighting. Again. Because of me.
“Yeah, but the thing is—she picked me.” Jonah’s tone is just as cruel as Kellan’s. “She’s living with me. She’s marrying me. And there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”
Kellan’s response sends another round of pain shooting through my stomach. “You think? Because I’m pretty sure that’s not true, J.”
OH GODS. What if he tells Jonah about Costa Rica? I can’t—I can’t—
I reach behind me and slam my door shut.
The arguing stops. Just like I knew it would. I can only hope it didn’t continue in their heads.
I’ve sat on the porch of the small, rented house twenty minutes away from where I grew up for the bulk of two days now, bored out of my skull. I’ve read a book and a half, three fashion magazines, completed six crosswords (okay, so they were easy ones, BUT STILL), and created several new playlists on my iPod.
There have been zilch Elder sightings.
Whatcha doing right now? I text to Jonah.
Watching you.
I roll my eyes. Seriously. Whatcha doing?