Endless

Guilt

Now that I’ve touched her, I know everything about her, and still I can’t stay away. The feelings I have when I’m with her terrify me. I promised myself I wouldn’t let this happen again. Not with a visitor or a Lifer. But Rory is different from anyone who has crossed my path in a hundred years. I know it’s bad for me, bad for her, bad for everyone, but I can’t stay away. I keep going to the house on Magnolia to keep watch, to just sit and stare with the mere hope of glimpsing her. The pain when I’m not near her, the anticipation of seeing her again, of hearing her voice, of seeing her smile…it’s unbearable.

I slammed the journal shut and tried to stop the tears before they spilled over. The last thing I wanted to do was to cry for him, for us, for what I’d thought we were going to be. I turned my face toward the window of his bedroom, pressing my eyes closed as tightly as I could and biting down hard on my lip. I hated him. I hated him for doing this to me, to my family, to everyone he’d known and loved and cared about for centuries.

A knock sounded on the open door. I quickly swiped at the wetness under my eyes and turned around. Joaquin stood framed by the doorway. Strewn around me were dozens of journals, some lying open, some piled in stacks. The coverlet on Tristan’s bed was twisted from the many times I’d changed position over the last few hours as the other Lifers had slowly put their books aside and melted away, tired of reading, hungry for dinner, or just plain unconvinced that this plan of mine would come to anything. I’d been alone and brooding for most of the afternoon.

And now Joaquin was looking at me with pity in his eyes.

“I think it’s time to take a break.”

I pushed myself up against the pillows, sniffling. “I can’t,” I said shakily, grabbing another book. “There’s something in here. I know it. And I can’t stop until I find a way to save Darcy and my dad.”

“Rory,” he said.

“Joaquin,” I shot back, glaring at him.

He took a deep breath and crossed his arms over his chest. “There’s something I want to show you. Something I’ve never shown anyone before.”

I slammed the latest journal closed. “You’re not going to give up, are you?”

“Have I ever?” he asked, cocking one eyebrow. “Come on, I know you’re at least a little curious.”

I said nothing. Just stared.

“Come on.” He let his hands slap down against his legs. “Your eyes are practically crossed. You haven’t eaten since this morning, if then. You’re not going to help your dad and Darcy any if you can’t think straight. Take a little break.”

I heaved a sigh. He was right, of course. My brain was foggy, my eyes were dry, and my stomach was one big, empty knot. Back home I was always the one carefully carbo-loading before a big race, getting plenty of rest the night before an exam. I knew what my body could and couldn’t handle, and if I was being honest with myself, it couldn’t handle much more of this without giving out.

And in a strange way, it was nice to know that he cared about me. Joaquin had never let me down. He cared about me. And that meant something. It meant a lot, actually.

“Fine,” I said as I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “But then we’re coming right back here. I’m close to something. I can feel it.”

“Don’t worry,” he said with a slow smile, his hand grazing the small of my back as I slipped by him. “This won’t take long.”