Timeless (23 page)

“You know,” he continued, “you could at least
have called me. And you didn’t have to lie either. Annie said you
were sick until I checked on you myself, and of course I knew where
you’d gone, remembering that you had relatives living nearby.”

I blushed, feeling guilty at all my lies.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Dean. It won’t happen again,”
I said, not meeting his eyes.

“No, it won’t,” he said sternly.

Ben took my hand in his. I knew Mr. Dean
would have me under surveillance for the rest of the trip, but I
didn’t care. Nothing seemed to matter anymore to me; what I came
for had not happened. What did anything matter if I couldn’t be
with the person I loved most?

****

The rest of the trip continued uneventfully.
Ben tried to raise my spirits, to make me feel excited about seeing
the sights in London the next day—the last our class spent in
England. But I felt apathetic about them. I would have preferred to
stay in the hotel, but Mr. Dean was not, of course, going to allow
that.

We traveled to Paris, staying for two days
before we took an overnight train to Rome later in the week. I was
as uninterested in those places as I had been in London. I knew
that, under different circumstances, I would have loved visiting
these famous cities and seeing their museums, palaces, and
galleries, but my heart literally wasn’t in it without Damien. I
wished we’d taken the trip before my dream, when Ben and I had been
happy together. What a difference it would have made to me.

I felt angry. It wasn’t fair. My life had
been nearly perfect before Mom died. Now I’d lost Ben too. I didn’t
want to feel the way I did, to love Damien so much. But then I
shook my head. I could never regret what I felt for Damien. I hoped
we could at least have one lifetime together someday.

I spent most of the rest of my time abroad
following Annie around, listening to her chatter. I tried to fake
my enthusiasm for Annie’s sake, but Ben saw right through me.

The interminable trip finally neared its end;
we had come to the last night. Our final city, Rome, teemed with
romantic side streets and historic places that inspired nothing but
grief in me. I longed to share them with Damien, but our love
seemed doomed. Great love usually is, I thought, not deriving any
comfort from our resemblance to other tragic couples forever
separated by death.

Mr. Dean had decided that we would all take a
bus ride around the city sites for a last evening tour before
leaving the next day for home.

I listlessly boarded the bus, apathetic about
where we went or what we did. Ben sat beside me, a comforting,
undemanding presence. He seemed to understand that something
terrible had happened, but he didn’t ask me what it was, sensing, I
supposed, that I wouldn’t talk about it. We both ignored the
others, who sat behind us throwing spitballs at the back of our
heads and loudly chanting old rock songs.

Zack and Annie sat directly in front of us,
rolling their eyes as they joked with Ben. I alone sat quiet,
contemplative as I looked out the window at the fading light. I
tried to ignore them all, though I envied their merriment, wishing
I could feel something. I’d become a hollow shell since I’d failed
to bring Damien forward.

When we passed the Coliseum, I remembered
that Ramona had told me that we could experience multiple past
lives. I wondered if I’d ever had a past life here. We didn’t stop,
having visited it the day before, but continued our evening tour by
bus.

Mr. Dean instructed the driver to let us off
at the ruins of the forum, which we hadn’t had time to visit
earlier that day. He pulled over, and we filed out.

Ben took my hand, leading me away from the
crowd of students milling about. My feet glided over the ancient
stones, joining the footsteps of thousands who’d walked here before
me.

Moonlight bathed the area around the forum,
and several students had found shadowed places to explore each
other rather than the past. I wondered how many lovers had trod
these stones over the centuries. I wished desperately to be one of
them, to know that, in one lifetime, at least, I had found Damien
and spent my life with him.

Ben led me past the others, and I followed, a
little teary eyed, wishing it were Damien who had me by the hand.
We stopped under the Arch of Severus, and I leaned against an
ancient column to gaze at the stars above us. The tears slid down
my cheeks as I wondered if Damien looked down at me from above. I
hoped so. I traced a pattern on the column with my hand. Two small
ants made their way up together, disappearing behind a yellow
wildflower that grew unbidden between one of the cracks.

I softly murmured his name to the sky,
willing him to hear me across eternity.

“Emmeline,” the wind whispered through the
ruins.

“Emily,” I heard, a gentle human voice
bringing me back to the present.

I realized that Ben wasn’t looking at the
stars or the ruins but at me. I met his eyes, and he drew his
fingers across my cheeks, wiping my tears and pulling me closer to
him. I didn’t have the will to resist. He found my lips with his,
and though I was startled at first, I didn’t push him away. I could
feel the tears course down my cheeks, could taste the salt of them,
a bitter reminder of my loss.

Suddenly, I didn’t care about the
consequences. I put my hands in his hair and kissed him back,
allowing his fingers to trail down my back. I could feel his
surprise as he pulled me towards him with eagerness. I wrapped my
arms around his strong and slender waist, drawing him closer. His
heartbeat quickened, thudding against his chest, and his hands
warmed my chilled skin. He slid his hands under my jacket when Mr.
Dean’s voice announced that it was time to leave. We broke apart,
and I looked up into Ben’s eyes. He smoothed back a fallen tendril
from my face and kissed me lightly, meaningfully. I could still
taste the salt of my tears on his lips.

What have I done?

****

The next morning, Ben grew quiet when I came
down for breakfast, uncertain, I knew, about where we stood. I
avoided his eyes, guilty that I’d let my grief for Damien cloud my
judgment. I knew it wasn’t fair to Ben.

I ate a quick bite of cereal and ran upstairs
to brush my teeth and pack my last things. Annie and I gathered our
bags, checked out, and shared a taxi to the airport, meeting up
with the others, who’d either divided up into taxis or taken the
Tube, after we’d arrived. Thankfully, Zack and Ben took a separate
taxi from us.

When we arrived, I avoided Ben, who sensed my
hesitation at breakfast and left me alone, playing cards with Zack
before we left. Annie wanted to shop in the airport for souvenirs.
I dreaded the overpowering aroma of airport perfume but knew it was
probably better than the awkwardness of sitting with Zack and
Ben.

I worried that Annie might have seen Ben and
me the night before, but it had been dark. And Annie hadn’t said
anything to me when we’d returned.

After browsing through a few shops and
finding something to eat, we’d nearly run out of time. Just as the
waiter brought our ticket, I heard them call our names over the
intercom. It was actually past time to leave, and the announcement
was a final boarding call. We hurriedly paid, left the restaurant,
and ran through the airport. The flight attendants looked at us in
perturbation, and Mr. Dean appeared livid. Fortunately, it was time
to buckle up, so I avoided any lectures for the time being. I knew
I’d get it when we landed, but hopefully the long flight back would
take the edge off of his anger.

Just before we took off, I gazed out over all
that we would leave behind. Of course, I only saw the airport, but
it was a mental readjustment for me. I hadn’t been able to have
what I came for, and leaving made my failure all the more real. I
could feel the tears welling inside, but I had none left to shed.
The sorrow ran too deep, and I didn’t want Annie or Ben to worry. I
felt the cross in my pocket and tried to draw some strength from
it. At least I’d known Damien in one of my lives, I thought. Maybe
I would find him in my next one.

I spent the majority of the flight trying to
sleep. Ben and I hadn’t been assigned seats near each other, and I
was grateful, knowing that I couldn’t keep relying on him. It sent
him false messages of hope that I shouldn’t encourage. I wondered
what had overtaken me the night before. I did still love Ben, but I
suspected strongly that it was Damien I felt and imagined as I
kissed him.

I knew I’d have to make it clear to Ben when
we got back home that it was just a one-time thing. I knew now that
he wanted me back and thought he’d made some progress. He knew
something had happened, or rather, didn’t happen, and he believed
it had created an opening for him.

I wanted to feel differently after I’d failed
to bring Damien through time, but my feelings remained unchanged. I
couldn’t explain what had provoked me into kissing Ben—whether it
was the moonlight, my sense of needing to hang on to something or
someone I loved, or just the feeling of history that had surrounded
us—but I knew that I needed to steer clear of him from now on. It
would be so easy to get back together with him, even knowing that I
loved him less than Damien and always would. And that wasn’t fair.
I couldn’t give him my whole heart. I still loved Ben too much to
give him second best.

The flight seemed interminable. Along the
way, I considered the hopefulness I had felt before and compared it
to the intense despair I carried with me now. It was almost too
much to bear.

We finally arrived home, and Aunt Jo was
waiting for me in the Saratoga, a welcome, familiar sight. I was
never so glad to see her.

“Emily,” Mr. Dean called before I could reach
her.

I turned, wanting only to get home, but
knowing I was long overdue for a lecture about my strange
behavior.

“Yes?” I said wearily.

“I’m not planning to report you to the
principal, although I should. Instead, you’ll need to go to
detention after school all of next month,” he said. His tone of
voice was sterner than it had been even at the station in Salisbury
that morning.

I wasn’t surprised by my punishment. I’d been
expecting something like this, if not much worse, and guessed that
Mr. Dean didn’t want to ruin the rest of the trip by sentencing me
then. What he didn’t know was that it didn’t matter whether I had
detention or not. Nothing mattered to me anymore.

“Fine,” I replied, turning to leave.

Aunt Jo looked at me, puzzled.

“I’ll explain later,” I said, opening the
back of the Saratoga to put my bags in.

“Hey, wait!” a voice called. It was
Annie.

“Aren’t you going to say goodbye?” she asked
in a small voice.

“Oh, of course. See you tomorrow,” I said,
giving her a hug. I realized I still owed her a huge favor—she’d
never been able to sneak off in Paris like I’d promised, and she’d
received a warning from Mr. Dean when he’d discovered her part in
my cover story. Though she hadn’t gotten into trouble—as far as I
knew—Annie hadn’t enjoyed getting caught. It didn’t take much to
upset her, and I felt bad. I had a lot to make up for, I thought,
resolving to see less of Ben and more of Annie.

She looked hurt, and I couldn’t blame her.
I’d not said more than two words to anyone since coming back from
my failed trip to the chapel, and she didn’t know what had
happened. She had a right to be upset. I’d not been the best friend
lately.

Aunt Jo remained quiet on the ride back home.
When we arrived, she turned off the ignition and turned to me.

“Emily, you know I don’t like to pry, but you
look awful—not at all like the girl I took to the airport or a
person just back from her first trip overseas. Did something
happen?”

“You could say that,” I answered, not meeting
her eyes.

“I didn’t get a call, so I’m assuming you
weren’t kidnapped, mutilated, or otherwise harmed,” she said,
trying humor to lighten the mood.

“No, nothing like that,” I replied, looking
down at my lap.

“Boy trouble?” she asked.

That was an understatement.

“I know you and Ben broke up some time ago,
so I’m assuming it’s not about him,” she said.

She wasn’t letting up, which told me how
terrible I must have looked to her.

I shook my head no, still not meeting her
eyes.

“And I know you haven’t dated anyone since
Ben…”

That was true.

“So I’m guessing it’s a boy you like but
can’t have?” she asked tentatively.

I nodded, leaving it at that. In a way, it
was true.

She reached over to give me an awkward hug
since we were both still sitting in the car. I made the effort to
smile, and we got out. I followed her inside more slowly, knowing
she wouldn’t ask me anymore questions, though I could tell that she
was disappointed that I wasn’t full of exciting stories.

I took my bags out of the car and entered the
front door, glad finally to be home. I started climbing the stairs
when Aunt Jo’s voice stopped me.

“Oh, I almost forgot. You have a couple of
messages. One was from Ramona wanting to know about your trip, and
one was a voice I didn’t recognize.”

I wasn’t paying too much attention to her.
I’d call Ramona tomorrow, and I didn’t much care who the other
person was.

I’d almost made it to the top of the stairs,
wanting only to collapse on the bed and dream of Damien, when Aunt
Jo’s next words halted me in my tracks.

She picked up the pad by the phone in the
hall.

“Oh yes, the other message was from someone
named Damien. Was that someone you met abroad? He sounded foreign.
I couldn’t place the accent.”

I froze on the stairs, dropping my bags.

“What did you say?” I whispered. I must have
misheard her.