Free Everlost by Neal Shusterman Page B

standards, but certainly new to him. He didn’t even look up when Mary entered. Nick, on the other hand, stood, took her hand, and kissed it. She laughed in spite of herself, and he blushed bright red. “I saw that in a movie once. You seemed so … royal, or something, it just seemed like the thing to do. Sorry.”
    â€œNo, that’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting it. It was very … gallant.”
    â€œHey, at least I didn’t leave behind chocolate on your hand,” he said. She took a long look at him. He had a good face. Soulful brown eyes. There was that hint of Asian about him that made him seem … exotic. The more Mary looked, the deeper his blush. As Mary recalled, a blush was caused by blood rushing to the capillaries of one’s face. They no longer had blood or capillaries—but Greensouls were still close enough to the living world to mimic such physiological reactions. He may have been embarrassed, but for Mary, that crimson tinge in his face was a treat.
    â€œYou know,” she told him, gently touching the chocolate on the side of his lip, “some people are able to change the way they appear. If you don’t like the chocolate on your face, you can work on getting rid of it.”
    â€œI’d like that,” he said.
    Mary could sense that he was having another physiological reaction to her touching his face, so she took her hand back. She might have blushed herself, if she was still capable of it. “Of course, that sort of thing takes a long time. Like a Zen master learning to walk on hot coals, or levitate. It takes years of meditation and concentration.”
    â€œOr I can just forget,” offered Nick. “You said in
Tips for Taps
that people sometimes forget how they look, and their faces change. So maybe I can forget the chocolate on purpose.”
    â€œA good idea,” she answered. “But we can’t choose what we forget. The more we try to forget something, the more we end up remembering it. Careful, or your whole face will get covered in chocolate.”
    Nick chuckled nervously, as if she were kidding, and he stopped when he realized she wasn’t.
    â€œDon’t worry,” she told him. “As long as you’re with us, you’re among friends, and we will always remind you who you were when you arrived.”
    In the corner, Lief grunted in frustration. “My fingers don’t work fast enough to play this.” He banged his Game Boy against the wall in anger, but didn’t stop playing.
    â€œMary … can I ask you a question?” Nick said.
    Mary sat with him on the sofa. “Of course.”
    â€œSo … what happens now?”
    Mary waited for more, but there was no more. “I’m sorry … I’m not sure I understand the question.”
    â€œWe’re dead, right.”
    â€œWell, yes, technically.”
    â€œAnd like your book says, we’re stuck in this Everlost place, right?”
    â€œForever and always.”
    â€œSo … what do we do now?”
    Mary stood up, not at all comfortable with the question. “Well, what do you like to do? Whatever you
like
to do, that’s what you get to do.”
    â€œAnd when I get tired of it?”
    â€œI’m sure you’ll find something to keep you content.”
    â€œI’m not too good at contentment,” he said. “Maybe you can help me.”
    She turned to Nick, and found herself locked in his gaze. This time he wasn’t blushing. “I’d really like it if you could.”
    Mary held eye contact with Nick much longer than she expected to. She began to feel flustered, and she never felt flustered. Flustered was not in Mary Hightower’s emotional dictionary.
    â€œThis game’s stupid,” said Lief. “Who the heck is Zelda, anyway?”
    Mary tore herself away from Nick’s gaze, angry at herself for allowing a slip of her emotions. She was a mentor. She was a