Hey everyone! Sorry about the last chapter being so suckish. It wasn’t particularly interesting (mostly serving as filler and more bad character interaction) so there wasn’t really anything worthwhile. Not that much else in this book is worthwhile either, so I suppose there’s not much else to say.

So let’s go!

We join Ever on her way to the restaurant, and all she can think about is what Riley said to her.

You’d think being dead would make a person act a little nicer, a little kinder. But not Riley. She’s just as bratty; spoiled, and awful as she was when she was alive.

It may just be me, but that seems like a little much. Don’t speak ill about the dead, and all that stuff. I’ll let Ever figure it out on her own, though. Surely she knows she’s trapped in a horribly written book and the plot will eventually decree that what Riley said will have some influence on what’s going to happen next? Well, if she doesn’t, she should.

And right after she said that, we’re here. This is how Ever describes the restaurant:

This place really is chi-chi. Big-time, major chi-chi.

I laughed when I read this because it just sounds so fucking stupid. I mean, really. The book can’t get much worse than this. Who says that to describe a fancy restaurant? Scratch that, who uses those words to describe anything?! I’m getting flashbacks to Zooey Redbird from the ‘House of Night’ fiasco.

So we get a bit of small talk between the two (Ever’s being a judgmental bitch and says that even though her aunt’s nice and all, she sucks at small talk) and after a few minutes she excuses herself to go to the bathroom and wangst. Goddamn I hate this part.

But the jolt I received when Sabine placed her hand on mine was filled with such overwhelming loneliness, such quiet sadness, it felt like a punch in the gut.

Especially when I realized I was to blame.

PLEASE TELL ME HOW THAT WORKS. Were you driving the other car? Were you the cause of the crash? Did you make the car swerve around wildly and then blow up into smithereens? Did you kill your parents?! No? THEN SHUT THE FUCK UP AND MOVE ON WITH YOUR LIFE. STOP BEING A BURDEN ON OTHER PEOPLE AND MAKE YOUR LIFE BETTER.

I’m all for mourning other people (a lot of people close to me have passed recently) but this is just… pointless angst. Pointless teenage angst. There’s really no reason for this, other than so that the readers think Ever is filled with emotion and shit, just to mask her bad characterisation. Think of what an intelligent modern teen would think in this situation. No, you’re not supposed to take characters from novels as examples.

But as much as I’d like to reach out, as much as I’d like to ease her pain, I just can’t. I’m too damaged, too weird. I’m a freak who hears thoughts and talks to the dead. And I can’t risk getting found out, can’t risk getting too close, to anyone, not even her.

STOP WITH THE WANGSTING IT’S ANNOYING AS FUCK WE’RE ONLY IN THE 7TH CHAPTER FOR CRYING OUT LOUD AND YOU’RE REMINDING ME OF EDWARD CULLEN.

I run my hands through my hair, reapply some lip gloss, and head back to the table, determined to try a little harder and make her feel better, all without risking my secrets.

See, that’s the attitude you should have! Except the part where you alienate your family members.

random scene break

I don’t know what happened, but we’re now in the parking lot, and…

“Oh, hey,” I say, my body flooding with heat and tingling the second my eyes meet his.

“You look amazing,” Damen says, his gaze traveling all the way down my dress to my shoes, before working their way back to mine.

What did I say. What. Did. I. Say. Somebody on the internet owes me ten bucks. Whoopee! More character development! But not really! By the way, the sneaky manner in which he looked at her didn’t get past me. What about you guys?

I gaze at him, wondering what he’s doing here, all alone, at this swanky hotel on a Friday night. Dressed in a dark wool blazer, a black open-neck shirt, designer jeans, and those boots, an outfit that seems far too slick for a guy his age, yet somehow looks just right.

Shutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupshutupwhydoeseverybodygazeisitbecausetheireyesdon’tworkproperlywhatthefuckisgoingon. Noël likes to use the word gaze too much, and it shows.

Damen’s the one who makes my palms sweat, my stomach spin, and he’s pretty much all I can think about!

Why the fuck was this published? This is as blatant as wish-fulfillment gets!

More stupid dialogue (we learn that Damen’s moved here from Santa Fe, but nobody really cares) and then we see that he’s brought a date! This will stir things up for sure!

He hooks his thumb over his shoulder, and my eyes follow in that direction, stopping on an incredibly gorgeous redhead, dressed in the slinkiest black dress and strappy high heels.

I’m confused as to which way Ever swings now.

She smiles at me, but it’s not at all kind. Just pink glossy lips slightly lifting and curving, while her eyes are too far, too distant to read. Though there’s something about her expression, the tilt of her chin, that’s so visibly mocking, as though the sight of us standing together could be nothing short of amusing.

That’s… kind of judgmental, I guess. But I’ll let you guys comment on what you think of it.

Though it’s not until later, when I’m alone in my room, that I realize the redhead was aura less too.

Well, that does move the plot along slightly. I think.

So she’s sleeping in her room and wakes up. There was a really jarring transition in between getting back home and then waking up:

Though it’s not until later, when I’m alone in my room, that I realize the redhead was aura less too.

I must’ve been in a really deep sleep because the moment I hear someone moving around in my room, my head feels so groggy and murky I don’t even open my eyes.

And one paragraph above that, she was knee-deep in describing a rose that Damen gave her. What happened in between the two events (the rose and waking up)? I guess it wasn’t really that important, otherwise Noël would have written it in. But then again, she did do a lot of really incoherent description of Damen a while back, so I don’t know what the fuck is going on.

Anyways…

“Riley?” I mumble. “Is that you?”

“You can see me?” she asks, pushing away from the desk. “Of course I can see.” Then I stop in midsentence when I realize the voice isn’t hers.

ZOMG THE SUSPENSE IS KILLING ME WHO COULD IT BE? Find out in the next chapter!

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Comment

  1. The Smith of Lie on 12 April 2014, 03:50 said:

    I’m confused as to which way Ever swings now.

    Another potential plot point/device that could made the story worthwhile. One can only imagine how would it be to have involuntary telepathic/empathic powers in teenage filled environment such as school. Ever trying to sort through which feelings towards Damen are her own, which are picked up from crashing Haven, which from lusty teen two sits back, would make for interesting reading. Ever picking up on boys’ around her hormone fueled feelings could be pretty fun, making her question if the attractivness of any given female is her perception or perception of others. You know, some real drawback of godlike power like hers. (And yes, I am still cross about how she refuses to abuse it for fun and profit).

    ZOMG THE SUSPENSE IS KILLING ME WHO COULD IT BE? Find out in the next chapter!

    Oh, oh! Is it Vampiress Haven came to end her life? Please, please, let it be that.

    But I’ll treat that last sentence as a challange and if I have time and idea, I’ll whip a spitefic in universe where Ever was not exsanguinated and isntead met someone in her room… At night… All alone with the stranger…

  2. Epke on 12 April 2014, 13:59 said:

    No, really, this is terribly exciting. Noël, you’re a master of suspense and characterisation. Can you feel my excitement? I’m afraid I might fall off my chair any moment now – this monotone way of describing it has nothing to do with how I really feel, I assure you.

    Though it’s not until later, when I’m alone in my room, that I realize the redhead was aura less too.

    … Okay, may the gods of literature forgive me here, but that’s like Deadward Cullen going “oh yeah, I can’t hear the thoughts of the chick next to Bella! Gosh! What’s for dinner; mountain lion or bear?”. Ever’s powers is, at this point, almost all she is. Well, that and wangst, but still: she’s constantly complaining about it and her world turns upside down when she meets someone without an aura… and then goes “lololol that other gurl didunt have 1 2!”

    This is just terrible. How could it have been an immediate bestseller and spent… oh gods, 34 weeks on NYT list?

  3. Danielle on 12 April 2014, 15:03 said:

    This is just terrible. How could it have been an immediate bestseller and spent… oh gods, 34 weeks on NYT list?

    I have two theories about this.

    1. The American reading public has terrible taste. That, combined with the popularity of the Twilight series, made the rise of this book inevitable.

    2. Something like this happened:

    Seattle’s Mars Hill Church paid a California-based marketing company at least $210,000 in 2011 and 2012 to ensure that Real Marriage, a book written by Mark Driscoll, the church’s founding pastor, and his wife Grace, made the New York Times best-seller list.

    According to a document obtained by WORLD, ResultSource Inc. (RSI) contracted with Mars Hill “to conduct a bestseller campaign for your book, Real Marriage on the week of January 2, 2012. The bestseller campaign is intended to place Real Marriage on The New York Times bestseller list for the Advice How-To list.”

    The marketing company also promised to help place Real Marriage on the Wall Street Journal Business, USA Today Money, BN.com (Barnes & Noble), and Amazon.com best-seller lists.

    Mat Miller of ResultSource and John Sutton Turner of Mars Hill signed the letter of agreement, dated Oct. 13, 2011. Turner was then and remains today the church’s executive pastor and an executive elder.

    The latter theory is far less depressing, but I somehow doubt Noel had the funds to make it happen.

  4. Juracan on 12 April 2014, 16:36 said:

    Though it’s not until later, when I’m alone in my room, that I realize the redhead was aura less too.

    But… that’s her thing! She’s always seeing auras! So if someone shows up and doesn’t have an aura, she should notice right there and then. That’s like if someone in a picture had a black dot over his or her face. You’d notice right away that something was off.

    Why the fuck was this published? This is as blatant as wish-fulfillment gets!

    To be fair, we haven’t quite gotten to Bella Swan levels of wish-fulfillment. Yet.

    (a lot of people close to me have passed recently)

    [hands tray of cookies]

  5. Asahel on 12 April 2014, 17:00 said:

    This place really is chi-chi. Big-time, major chi-chi.

    Used to have a restaurant in town named Chi Chi’s. It was terrible American-style Mexican food. It’s not in business here anymore, and I’m not even sure the chain is still open elsewhere. I just can’t read that description without thinking of that restaurant… for some reason.

    “You look amazing,” Damen says, his gaze traveling all the way down my dress to my shoes, before working their way back to mine.

    Ugh, this is a terrible sentence. She’s paired a plural pronoun (their) with a singular noun (gaze), and then putting the implied noun after the possessive pronoun shows how weird the thought is (honestly, who says mine gaze?). But you know what’s the worst about it? It could’ve easily been fixed if the author had used “eyes” instead of “gaze.” In fact, I kind of get the impression that this sentence started life using “eyes” until the author thought, “Oooo gaze sounds so much cooler!” without changing anything else to make the sentence grammatically correct.

    But… that’s her thing! She’s always seeing auras! So if someone shows up and doesn’t have an aura, she should notice right there and then. That’s like if someone in a picture had a black dot over his or her face. You’d notice right away that something was off.

    I’d like to echo this. Sloppy writing.

    (a lot of people close to me have passed recently)

    My sympathies.