Before the Ever Green (BTEG #1) ✔️

Chapter 15

  It's been about 3 months since Mom invited Everett to breakfast. It really wasn't that big of a deal, because nothing changed. I've gotten sick 3 times since then, and the Popular's are still making fun of me. Trying to make me break, I guess. Everett sits with me 50% of the time, and we talk about random things. He's stopped John from beating up on me a few times. I guess he's really the only friend I've ever had, besides the janitor, who I never bothered to learn the name of, and Mom. Mom still has her stupid powers, and the town still hates her for them. She still won't tell me what her stupid powers are, and neither will anyone else. I hope someday she will. I've had dreams that she'll tell me when she's on her death bed, and she will speak to me. Her last dying words will be to tell me her powers.

 Everett and I have begun to learn a little bit more about each other in the past months, but I still feel like I don't know him. Mom invited him over for dinner, so I am procrastinating the idea of getting ready by writing in my stupid journal. I haven't written in this journal in a year, so that's why I am clearing the past events up, here, and now. I wish Mom would stop telling me last minute when we are having a guest over. Maybe she's afraid I'll disappear, so I won't have to stay through the meal. I guess it is kind of awkward, since we don't have guests over more than maybe once or twice a year. Maybe this year will be a record. Maybe it won't be, and Everett will stop coming over. I hope we make it a record, because Everett is a good friend, and being who I am, I don't get to use the word 'friend' a lot when referring to myself. Mom probably thinks I have tons of friends, and just don't talk about them and don't invite them over, because of her reputation.

 Boy, is she wrong.

Well, Mom will probably kill me if I don't hurry yo get ready, so I guess I have to stop this writing, and put on something presentable. I wish I could just take a nap.

Addilyn Ember.

I hear a knock at the front door, so I hurry to put on a navy blue dress that's cut off mid-thigh. It has a sweet-heart neckline, with straps the size of spaghetti. I hurry to slip on my sandals, and brushing out my long hair. I hurry downstairs, to find Mom talking to Everett in the big room. She nods, and talks quietly. He nods, but doesn't seem to speak much.

I look at the empty table, and sigh. I go to the cupboard, pull out the plates, and place them nicely on the table, along with silver-ware, glasses, napkins, and Mom's 5 candles. I set the pasta by the candles, with the salad near the end, where the empty chair is. I stand back, to see how it looks. Pretty good, if I do say so myself.

"Wow," Mom says, walking in from the big room with Everett trailing behind her, "It looks great, honey."

"Thanks," I say

"Everything looks amazing," Everett comments, and we all sit down to eat. I fill each glass with water, because I forgot to earlier. Mom tosses the salad, and then we all grab a serving of pasta. Mom really out-did herself with getting the taste just right. I can't even describe the loveliness of it.

When everyone is finished eating, I clear the table and Mom does the dishes. Everett and I head to the big room, where I show him old pictures and things I've 'made'. I don't tell him that I didn't actually make them, because I figure what's the point.

"You're pretty good," he says gesturing to a piece of art I picked up a few years ago. It has 2 black birds flying in the clouds, and the artist painted a saying that I'd never heard before. It says: Your wings already exist, all you have to do is fly. Most the painting I got with quotes had an author, but this one didn't and it stuck out to me. But, I don't have wings and I can't fly. Heck, I can't even swim.

"I'm not that good," I say, and I think 'I'm not good at all',

"This is pretty good," He says "I love this saying. I'm not sure if I believe it,"

Mom walks in with a towel in her hands, "It's not what it says. It's how you interpret it. This one in particular means that you have the power to do anything, you just have to know how to use it."

Mom could always do that. She could walk in and make a whole room of a thousand people understand anything. But, in this town, no one would listen. No matter how hard she'd try. I actually feel really bad. I almost want to ask her if we could move, but we'd have to move pretty far, and the new leaders wouldn't allow it. Not with there new rule that you can only move with in town limits unless permitted. But, it would take too much effort just to try to get the permit, and then they might say no.

I am looking around at all the things in this room. I'm not sure how I came to acquire some of them, but I did. I am glad I did, because some of them are really cool. Everett pats me on the shoulder, and I turn around quickly. Too quickly, and I just stare at him. He looks shocked, I assume by my abrupt movement. I look down, he is holding a picture of my dad, and I tell him this.

"Oh," he says, "You have his eyes,"

"That's what Mom says," and I look st her. She smiles, just a little. Then she opens her mouth and says, "Well, you do." I smile.

I am glad Mom kept pictures of Dad. You'd think it'd hurt to see him, but I constantly find her in here looking at his pictures. I guess it's good what she does. She's not always grieving, but instead she finds joy in looking at the person that made her happy. I hope that someday I'll find someone who makes me happy, and that of they die before me, I can do what Mom does. I always tell myself this. I won't grieve, but instead I will bloom with joy just to see their face one more time, even if it's just in a mere picture.

I've always tried to imagine the person I'd spend my days with. But, it's hard when the only boys I've known are the ones from school that threw food at me. No one but the janitor ever helped me, other than him and Everett, they all laughed. They'd just sit there and laugh, or throw more food at me. I just let them do it. What else could I have done? There was 100+ of them, and only 1 of me. And, I am no one to be afraid of. I don't have anything scary about me. So, I'd just sit there.

"Addilyn," Everett says, taking me out of my thoughts, "I was wondering if you would like to go on a picnic tomorrow night...to watch the eclipse?"

I don't speak. No one's ever asked me to do anything with them before. I nod, because I can't speak. He smiles. I smile. I realize Mom isn't in the room anymore, but, if she were, she'd probably be smiling, too. "Great," he says, "I'll stop by your house at 7?"

I nod, "Okay,"

We walk to the kitchen, and he thanks Mom for dinner. I walk him out, and say good bye, before heading to my room to get into comfier clothes. I pull back my covers, and hurry to get in. The bed is cold, so I try to lay in one place to heat it up. I usually sit on my bed during the day, so it's warm.

Good night. I tell the world. Maybe another day will be better.