“Is that what it felt like in…there?” I don’t want to say the word Hell for some reason, like I’d be tempting it or something. “Like centuries?”
Max gives me a stiff smile. “I’m trying not to think about it.”
Okay, fair enough. And I take that as a warning to drop it, which is fine with me. I think I’ve been nosy enough. Besides, I had a taste of the place when I got my mom out, and even before that in my dreams. I know that I wasn’t in like the actual pit of fire, just an upper level (so many levels to the underworld, but just one stupid level in this one), but it was bad enough.
It’s a long-ass drive to Portland, but we talk about stupid shit for a while and then Max manages to fall asleep, head against the window, which leaves me locked in my own thoughts.
In some ways, his story with Rose reminds me of me and Jay. I mean, for all the obvious reasons. Jay was to me what Max was to her. He trained her to fight demons, to use her talents and kick-ass abilities (which I’m hearing are similar to my own kick-ass abilities) to do her job. Then they fell in love.
Except Max loved Rose so much, that he decided he didn’t want to be a Jacob anymore. He didn’t want to have to move on when she was ready to be on her own, and have to help someone else, as he had done countless times before. He gave up immortality and supernaturality and all that big stuff, to be with her because she was worth it to him. And even after they broke up, when she fell on hard times, he still went to her side to help her, even if he got nothing in return.
I could have had that with Jay. I wanted that with Jay. Jacob told him he had to move on and he did, just like that. He didn’t say, “You know what? I’m in love with Ada. I choose her over this weird-ass job,” or “Immortality is overrated,” or even try some kind of pushback. He just accepted it. I know it hurt him, I know it was hard on him, but he still did it. My love wasn’t enough for him. Or maybe it’s that his love wasn’t enough for me.
There are different levels to Hell, maybe there are different levels to love, too.
It’s getting dark by the time I pull down our suburban street. Everyone still has their Christmas lights up, giving it a cheery feeling, but New Year’s Eve is tomorrow and, after that, the magic of the holiday season is over. It sucks being single during this time, but I’m hoping the new year can at least bring some sort of fresh start.
“Here we are,” I tell him, parking in front of my house. We pulled into a McDonald’s halfway during the drive and got some gas, but after we ate our Big Macs and nuggets, he went right back to sleep again.
Max straightens up and stares out the window, almost in a daze.
“Max?” I ask. When he doesn’t respond I tap him on the shoulder.
He eventually looks at me, blinking. “Where am I?”
Oh my god. Don’t tell me he’s got amnesia or some shit.
“Ada?” he goes on, staring right through me.
“Yes,” I say uneasily. “It’s Ada. And you’re in Portland. I brought you here like you asked.”
He looks around, pressing his large hands into the dash. “And this is real?”
“It’s real. What’s wrong with you? Are you not…awake?”
He swallows, nodding. He licks his lips. “Yeah. I’m awake.” He pinches his eyes shut for a moment. “Sometimes when I wake up…it doesn’t seem real. It doesn’t seem like I’m really here. Like I’m a ghost.”
My eyes go wide. “Oh my god,” I say softly. “What if you are a ghost!?”
He frowns, looking at me. “I was just saying I feel like a…” He trails off, thinking. “The woman at the clothing store seemed to be able to see me.”
“But did she? Because we all thought nothing was wrong with Bruce Willis the first time we watched The Sixth Sense.”
I get out of the car, the air bitterly cold for Portland, and walk around to his side. I open the door and hold my hands out for him. “Come on. I have to get to the bottom of this or this is going to bug me.”
Max looks at my hands and then up at my face, frowning. “It’s going to bug you if I’m a ghost?”
“Yes. I don’t want to be that person walking around and talking to themselves.”
He puts his hands in mine, though he gets up on his own. I then take my duffel bag out of the trunk and hand it to him. “Here, you can carry this. Come on.”