Immortal by Gillian Shields Page B

new!”
    “But you said that you’ve been traveling in India and Morocco,” I said. “You’ve seen lots of places.”
    “Not enough.”
    “But you’ll be doing new things when you go to college.” He had told me he had a place to study philosophy the following year.
    “Oxford! A whole lot of eager schoolboys showing off about who can make clever remarks and drink the most beer. That’s not what I want.” He flung himself back onto the ground, then made an effort to speak more calmly. “The only thing I ever wanted was to study the very heart of things, to know the immortal truths.”
    “You don’t want much, then,” I teased. “To know the truth, the meaning of life…aren’t you being a bit ambitious?”
    He stared into the water’s depths. “I won’t go to Oxford.”
    “But won’t your parents be disappointed if you drop out?”
    “No,” he replied. “Maybe. I don’t know. Let’s not talk about it.” He gave me a dazzling smile. “I want to talk about you. I want to hear all about your life: what you do, what you think, what you eat for breakfast, what you were like when you were five years old.”
    I laughed. “Plump and bossy, with crazy red curls.”
    “Irresistible.”
    “Yeah, pretty much.”
    It was good to see him laugh. “Oh, Evie,” he said, “you make me feel well again.” It was true that he didn’t seem quite as pale and tired as before. He looked at me wonderingly, as though trying to memorize my face. “I can’t believe you’re really here, talking to me. You’re so…different….”
    “From what?”
    “Different from all the other girls I know.” He smiled. Then the light faded from his eyes. “I am not very good with…relationships.”
    I didn’t want to admit that I had never even had a relationship. I knew nothing about boys or dating. There had been boys at school and at the beach, of course, noisy and scruffy, only into surfing and loud music and motorcycles. They had never interested me. But Sebastian wasn’t like them. His idiosyncratic way of dressing, his intense gaze, his precise manner of speaking—everything about him fascinated me.
    “What do you mean, not very good at relationships?” I asked. “Why not?”
    “I spoil things.” He frowned. “If something is less than perfect, I destroy it.”
    “Is that what happened—I mean, you said you had lost someone….” I searched for the right words. “Someone you cared about, you said. Did it go wrong because of that?”
    “You could say that.”
    I made myself ask the question: “So, who was she?”
    “Let’s forget it. It is all over.” He got up and walked to the edge of the lake, then turned and looked at me, his eyes as blue and bright as a summer’s day. “I just want to think about being here with you. Come on; I want to show you something.”
    I couldn’t help wondering about the girl he didn’t want to discuss as he led me away from the lake. I wondered if she’d been heartbroken when they had split up. And where was she now? I tried to let go of it. It wasn’t important. Nothing mattered but this moment.
    We walked under the arches of the ruined chapel. At the far side of the chapel, beyond a smooth lawn, was an overgrown thicket of shrubs. A low sign had been set up, which read, NO TRESPASSING.
    “Another rule for you to break.” Sebastian grinned. “Are you willing?”
    I had a faint pang of conscience about what Dad would say if he could see me. I could almost hear Mrs. Hartle’s voice sneering, Wandering in the grounds at night with a local boy, Evie? This is hardly what we expect from our Wyldcliffe girls. But the last person I wanted to listen to was Mrs. Hartle.
    “Sure.” I grinned back.
    We crashed through the tangled growth, snapping twigs and scratching ourselves on the brambles. I was just thinking that it was like the prince arriving to wake Sleeping Beauty, when I saw a mass of rock looming over me in the darkness. A gaping black slit in the rock looked