“Sebastian!” I scream. “Stop!”
But he doesn’t listen. Elliot manages to gain the upper hand long enough to get Sebastian underneath him. My legs carry me faster than I’ve ever run before, shoving both hands into Elliot, but he throws an arm out behind him, propelling me into the street. I hit hard, the asphalt scraping my elbows, knees, and the side of my hip. I wince against the pain, slowly peeling myself off the ground when I hear Sebastian.
“Evan!” His yell is a guttural, thundering sound that has my head snapping up in alarm. It all happens in slow motion. I hear the sound of it before I turn my head to see a big white semi coming straight for me. I hear Sebastian screaming, the sound breaking my heart, as I try to make my body catch up to my brain.
Suddenly, Sebastian is in front of me, throwing out his arms, scooping me up right as the truck whizzes by, nearly swerving off the road before straightening out. I land on my back, his weight coming down hard on top of me. My eyes are huge with disbelief as he stares down at me, panting hard.
The tears come fast and thick, rolling down my cheeks. I feel my chin wobbling, unable to speak, while Sebastian uses his thumbs to clear the tears from my face, chanting, “You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” over and over, and I think he’s trying to convince himself more than me. I nod shakily, and he reaches for my hand at my side. His warm palm wraps around mine before he gives me three purposeful squeezes. He swallows hard as I look up at him, my eyes searching his.
“You love me?” I ask, my voice shaky, but before he can answer, I see Elliot standing above us half a second before he jerks forward, his arm lunging forward toward Sebastian. Sebastian’s beautiful green eyes widen in shock, and at first, I don’t know what happened, but then Elliot pulls his arm back, holding a knife. A knife coated with Sebastian’s blood.
THEY SAY YOU FEEL THE most alive when you’re closest to death. But that isn’t true. The times I’ve felt most alive weren’t spent in the globe defying gravity or even looking into Evan’s eyes as I bled out. It was the nights spent in my bunk with her wrapped around me. The nights I spent inside her, knowing I’d never be able to keep anything that pure, hell-bent on getting my fill for as long as I could.
But that was selfish. Because look at us now. I always knew my life would end like this. Evan was the only thing I didn’t see coming.
I’m the curse; she’s the casualty.
I hear Evan’s frantic screaming, but it sounds muffled to my ears, like I’m underwater. At first, I think I’ve just been punched in the back. I can’t figure out why Evan’s blue eyes fill with horror. Then I feel it. The searing, excruciating pain that slices through me. I grit my teeth as the world seems to sway around me.
I’d give anything to keep you.
I think I say the words out loud, but I can’t be sure.
No. I don’t feel alive. I’ve never felt more dead than the moment Evan’s eyes told me I was dying.
October 12th-two years later
11:59 P.M.
THAT DAY WILL FOREVER GO down as the worst night of my life. The day I realized I was wrong and the curse was real—that Sebastian was right all along. That day, I felt the absolute horror of losing the person I love most and being completely helpless to do anything to stop it. Hope died right along with my heart, and I cursed the stars for cursing Sebastian.
I watch the numbers on my phone change to twelve, the date switching to the thirteenth of October. Sebastian’s twenty-fifth birthday. The tears fall, thick and heavy as I light a birthday candle for him, sticking it into the center of the funnel cake I got for this occasion. My chest shakes with my sobs, and a hand comes down onto my back, consoling me. I turn toward him, my hand covering my mouth, and then I’m pulled into his arms, smelling the scents of leather and tobacco and campfires that feel like home.
“Happy birthday, Sebastian,” I manage to say, my voice cracking on his name. I wipe the tears away from my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt, looking into those bright green eyes with a deep crease between them.
He swallows hard, like he can hardly believe it.
That day was the worst day of my life, but it was also the best, because it was the day Sebastian survived. Against all odds, he fought to live. He fought to stay here. And I knew I’d fight to keep him every day after.
“Sebastian!” I hear myself scream, but it doesn’t sound like my voice. It doesn’t even feel like it came from my body. “What did you do?” I yell at Elliot, who just stands there, looking dazed. Sebastian’s slumped against me, but I manage to pull my flannel off with one hand, pressing it to the bleeding wound in his back. There’s so much blood. Too much. I need to get help.
“I’ll kill you,” I scream at Elliot, and then I hear dirt bikes right before Eros and Lathan come into view. Where’s Tres? They take one look at the scene before them, and then they’re jumping off their bikes, tackling Elliot to the ground.
“Eros!” My throat is raw from screaming. “Call an ambulance!”
He backs away from Elliot, frantically patting his pockets for his phone as Lathan continues to beat him brutally. Keeping pressure on the wound, I touch Sebastian’s face, half-sitting, rocking him on my lap, begging him not to die, begging the powers that be to let him live. “I’m not ready,” I sob.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Elliot reaching for the knife, and I scream for Eros who’s relaying our whereabouts to the operator. He shouts, “Hurry!” into the phone before hanging up, just as Elliot’s hand closes around the knife. Lathan’s oblivious in his fit of rage. Eros bends over and skids on a patch of gravel, picking up a rock. When I see his intent, I look down at Sebastian, not wanting to watch what comes next.
A sickening crack rings out, and then it goes silent. Lathan and Eros crouch around us, trying to talk to Sebastian, but he doesn’t respond. “Where were you?” I cry. “He needed you!” It isn’t fair, but I’m in the mood to blame anyone and everyone. Eros and Lathan exchange a look.
“What?” I ask, even though I’m afraid to hear the answer. “Where’s Tres?”
“He’s hurt. Bad.” A tear rolls down Lathan’s cheek as he grits his jaw.
I shake my head, tears blurring my vision. I didn’t think it was possible for my heart to hurt any more than it already does, but Tres is just a kid. He’s too young to die. They all are.
I alternate between telling Sebastian I love him and repeatedly saying please for I don’t know how long before the ambulance shows up.