11:39

by Holly Hook

  Chapter Three

  For the next few days, Simon and I don’t dare return to the Hub or to that memory of the Titanic that’s gone very wrong. Or very right. I can’t get those zombies out of my head or the fact that Frank’s still thinking of me.

  “You’re lucky,” Simon says on Monday morning when we wake up next to each other in my room at Nancy's house. He yawns. “You still have your own bed, at least. Well, I guess I’m lucky, too.” His dark hair falls from his eyes and onto his pillow. The sun hits it, bringing out the coppery highlights that I love. “Until Nancy finds out we’re doing this.”

  "We can always do a mind trick on her to make her forget about it if that happens." I feel bad about that, since Simon has made enough alterations on Nancy and Monica's memories in the last week to fill a lifetime. Since I saved myself in the past and went Timeless, I didn't need rescuing from the Titanic nor did I need Simon to hide me here, so history changed and I never came to live with Nancy a year ago. After I turned, we both realized what had happened. Neither of us wanted to stay on that memory Titanic, so we decided it was okay to change Nancy and Monica's memories so I could stay here again. Simon spent much time standing on the porch on our first night back, doing mind tricks on Nancy and convincing her that I have in fact lived here for the past year as her foster daughter. I helped him fill in the details of my life here. He even forged my file again, complete with my fake neglectful mom and my fake old high school. We had to do the same for Monica, my foster sister. Simon and I spent most of our first school day back making her remember that she helped me so much with computers over the last year and saved me from being a social laughingstock. It was exhausting, because we had to do the same for all of my teachers and get them to update my grades.

  But it was worth it. I wasn't going to lose my second family, too. Nancy and Monica have done so much for me. Without them, I wouldn't be alive.

  I snuggle up closer to Simon, catching a glimpse of my alarm clock. It’s almost time to get up, and it’s Monday. School. I don’t want to leave, but at least Simon will be going with me. “If Nancy sees this, we’re both dead. She’s very old fashioned.”

  “Well, so are we when you think about it. And it’s not like we’ve, you know, done anything here besides sleep.”

  He's right. We wouldn't dare. The walls of Nancy's house are thin.

  “She won’t know that if she ever walks in here.” I bury my face in the crook of Simon’s neck and breathe in his salty aroma. It’s the smell of the ocean on the day we met, where he helped me find my lost brother at the fair. He smells so good, like better times, better memories. “You know, I really like this arrangement. It’s way better than having you go back to the Hub every night.”

  “So do I.”

  I strain my ears. The coffeepot hisses out in the kitchen and a chair scrapes. Nancy is doing her early morning routine, just like she has during each morning of the year that technically never happened now. We have to keep everything down to a whisper. Even when she’s in bed, we don’t dare try anything. If we can hear her snoring from across the house with the bedroom door shut, it’s too risky. And not to mention, Monica’s on the other side of the wall. I don’t think she’d tell Nancy about Simon being over, but it’s best to not have to explain our situation. I'd have to lie again. Messing with her memory about the past year has been bad enough.

  “I wish we had somewhere a little more private.” I kiss Simon, dragging it out as long as I can. “We were only supposed to, you know, wed back in our old life.”

  “Your father would murder me for this.” Simon’s fully awake now. Happier.

  My father.

  The room darkens like the zombies are about to come out of the walls, begging for help again. I hold my breath until I realize it’s just a cloud moving over the orange sun outside. Of course. Things like that don’t happen in the regular universe. My imagination can’t screw anything up here.

  “Julia? Monica? Breakfast.”

  Nancy’s voice floats down the hall, oblivious and happy.

  “Rats.” I scramble out of bed, leaving Simon’s warmth behind. He sighs in disappointment.

  My alarm goes off a second later. I let it go for a moment. It masks the sound of Simon donning his jeans over his boxers, which I normally watch now that he’s staying each night with me. I get changed myself while Simon works on popping out the window screen as quiet as he can. There’s no time to linger. If I take too long, Nancy will come knocking on my door.

  Simon manages to get the screen out of the window right when Nancy calls again. “Julia? Are you up?” She’s getting a little impatient.

  “I’ll be right out.” I turn off the alarm and nod at Simon to hurry. “See you at school?” I mouth.

  He leans away from the window and gives me a peck on the cheek. “At school.”

  And then he’s gone, climbing out of the window. I don't stop to watch him running for the tree line that marks the border between Nancy's house and the neighbor's. I put the screen back in right when Nancy’s footsteps start coming down the hall. Leaving my bed messy, I open the door to find her on the other side.

  “Oh!” She jumps back, curly hair bouncing around her ears. Her eyes widen behind her glasses. She's wearing a new pair, ones with bright purple rims.

  “I slept hard,” I say, smiling. I'm so glad to see her still here, but at the same time my heart’s still pounding from the close call. “Sorry. I’m coming.”

  Nancy shoots me a suspicious look. I make my way down the hall, walking as normal as I can. If she suspects anything, the nights of having Simon over will end. He will have to go back to sleeping in that memory Titanic on his lonely bunk.

  Monica’s already sitting out at the table, waiting to dig into the pancake that’s on her plate. It’s a rule in Nancy's home that nobody eats until everyone’s sitting at the table. And if you dare try to grab your meal and go somewhere else to eat it…watch out.

  Monica nods to me. It’s a thanks for getting up, now I can enjoy my meal nod. I sit in front of my own plate and devour the syrup and batter, trying not to look in Nancy’s direction as she walks back into the kitchen and takes her own seat.

  “Julia, is something wrong?”

  Nancy's very observant. She always knows when something is going on with me. Perhaps Simon has restored her memory of me too well.

  “No,” I supply too quickly. “I just overslept a little. I’ll set my alarm for earlier tomorrow.”

  “You’re not looking at anyone.”

  Oh, double great.

  “I’m not?” I force myself to lift my face away from my food and pray that Nancy won’t see any gold streaks going through the color of my eyes. That she won’t notice that anything’s different and that I'm not the same Julia she remembers fostering for the past year.

  “Yeah,” Monica adds. “You’ve just been kind of withdrawn the past week or so. Not really talking to anybody.”

  I grip my fork tight. Monica’s supposed to be my ally in this. Not Nancy’s.

  But she’s worried. I can tell by her look. She’s not trying to get me in trouble. Monica’s thinking I’m getting so attached to Simon that I’m ignoring everybody else. She lost her friend Shauna that way not too long ago and I can see that fear blossoming on her face. The fear that she’s going to lose me, too.

  I’m falling farther and farther into a hole. I can’t see a way to climb out. Monica is practically my sister. I can't bear to lose her.

  “I didn’t realize,” I say. “I’m sorry if I’ve been ignoring you guys. I don’t mean to. But nothing’s wrong. I’ve just had some trouble sleeping lately.”

  Monica shoots me a knowing look, but it’s a lie. With Simon over, I’ve been sleeping fine this past week. More than fine. The 2:20 nightmare hasn’t come back since I escaped the Titanic again. The nightmare is one thing that Monica does know about. I was sure to have Simon fill her memory in with that.

  “You do have some rings under your eyes,”
Nancy says. She squints at me and then her gaze sweeps down to my neck. “Is that a new necklace?”

  I look down. It still dangles around my neck. “Yes.” Did I remember to have Simon make Monica remember that part? She was there when I found his gift. And at least the subject’s changing. I don’t have to tell her what it means.

  “That's the one you woke up with,” Monica adds. “Did you ever find out what's inside of it? Did Simon ever tell you?”

  Okay. She does recall that happening.

  Nancy’s getting up and heading over to me, forgetting her coffee and pancake on the table. She leans down and takes the necklace in her hand, turning the glass teardrop over. She smiles. I turn my gaze down and watch the coal flecks tumble around inside. “Where did he get this?” Her interest is rising. She’s excited.

  “I'm not sure. He never said.” I’ll leave it vague for now.

  “Really?” Nancy lets go and the necklace bounces back to my shirt. “That’s one of those ones they came out with a few years ago. It’s coal taken from the wreck of the Titanic. Did he tell you that? They come with certificates. ”

  Monica props up and looks at me. “Oh, that’s cool. I didn’t know that. I’ve been wondering what it is, too.”

  “Yeah.” It was actually Isabel that told me what it was right before she and Frank sent me back. Simon hadn’t been able to say a word about it until my memory came back. The Timeless aren’t allowed to reveal their own pasts to mortals. When Simon tried before, some invisible force—the Time in his blood, he said, would choke him.

  And now that will happen with me if I ever try to tell Nancy and Monica about my real past life.

  “You mean yes,” Nancy corrects me. Leave it to her to do that. “You're lucky I saw that. You know my interest in ships. Did you know my great-grandfather served on one of the Titanic’s sister ships in the first world war?”

  “He did?” I loosen my grip on the fork, glad to be changing the subject. Nancy's den is full of model ships. And pictures of them. And books about them. It's why Simon hid me with her in the first place: so that I could pick up on the clues and figure out where I came from.

  “They commissioned civilian ships for the Great War. He was a medic on one. Oh, I never met him,” she says, returning to her plate opposite me. “I’ll have to tell you about it sometime. But for now, I want you girls to finish up breakfast so you’re not late for school.”

  “You should.” My mood’s lifting. I’m wondering if I can take a quick trip to the World War One era and pick Nancy up something for her birthday coming up next month. Simon must know where a rift is in the Hub that would lead to that. Well, provided it doesn’t screw up the flow of time or anything. I’ll have to ask Simon about that, too. Maybe this whole Timeless thing won’t be as awful as I thought.

  But what am I worried about nabbing something from 1915 for? I’m planning on doing something that might really screw things up.

  I’m planning to save my brother and my father, even if it means stopping the Titanic from hitting that iceberg.

  Monica pushes her plate away and takes it to the sink. I follow, even though I’m not completely done. Today, I’m going to make Simon wait a bit. I’ll be walking all the way to school with Monica. What's the point of making all this effort to keep my family if I don't spend time with them?

  * * * * *

  Simon and I are working in Independent Study during the last hour of the school day when it happens.

  We have our chairs close enough to let our thighs touch. We share the same computer and I’m scrolling down a page about rainforest insects. It's our project for this class this week. I reach a picture of something that looks like a mutant walking stick when the computer screen turns off. It fizzles and leaves darkness in its place.

  I jump. Simon looks at me. He raises his eyebrows. Around us, everyone else keeps working. Mr. Iris is busy grading something on his desk. Our computer’s the only one that’s gone kaput.

  “That’s weird,” I say, leaning over to check the power cord.

  Simon grabs my arm, stopping me. “Wait. This might be something important.”

  I straighten up and let my confused look sweep over my face. “Yes, it is. Our computer’s broken and we can’t finish our assignment.”

  Simon leans so close that he’s breathing into my ear. “I don't think it is,” he whispers. “The screen.”

  I follow his gaze and have to keep myself from jumping out of my chair.

  The inside of the monitor swirls with gold. It’s as if someone’s squeezed a bunch of that Christmas art glitter stuff under the glass and it’s making an effort to hypnotize whoever watches it.

  “Um?” I ask, transfixed.

  Simon wraps his arm around me and pulls me close. We watch the glitter swirl around under the glass for a few more seconds, and then it disappears back into the darkness behind it.

  And then the computer just comes back on, revealing that ugly walking stick bug again.

  Simon’s breath is warm on my ear. “We have to go. Now.”

  “Go?” I ask. I look at the clock. It’s still half an hour before we're dismissed.

  “That was a summons. From Time itself. We have to report to the Main Chamber.” I can hear the hurry in his voice. “If we don’t obey, Time could ban from leaving our quarters for a while. It’s happened to me before. That means more potential time with the walking dead.”

  An assignment. My first one. My heart leaps. I'm not sure if I'm excited or scared.

  Simon grins at me. “You want to try doing a mind trick on Mr. Iris? I'm right here if you mess it up.”

  I stand up. A big part of me wants to learn how to alter memories. Simon did almost all of the work with Nancy and Monica, leaving me feeling useless. I've got to learn eventually.

  But at the same time, I don't want to feel like I'm taking advantage of people. It's bad enough we've messed with Nancy and Monica so much to get me back into their lives.

  “Mr. Iris,” I say, walking up to his desk. He looks up from the paper he’s grading. I stare hard at him, copying the way Simon's done with my teachers before. At first he blinks at me, waiting for me to speak. I focus harder on him, imagining his mind turning to a blank slate. His gaze relaxes his eyes cloud over like he's lost in a daydream.

  “Simon and I needed to leave for doctor appointments,” I say. Mr. Iris nods. I'm doing it! “We have excused absences. We’ll finish our assignments tomorrow.”

  He marks something down in the attendance sheet. “I've got it,” he says, almost dreamy. “Have a nice day, you two.”

  I turn away. Simon's standing there at the corner of Mr. Iris's desk, smiling.

  “I knew you could do it,” he says once we're out of the hall. “Now you can get yourself out of binds like that whenever you need to.”

  I'm elated. I can't help it. “It's not right to do, though.”

  “Of course it isn't. But we need to do our job.” Simon links his hand with mine and we leave through the corner exit, the one that leads out to the parking lot. “Now we need to find a rift. Sure, we can open one, but it would be difficult with only two of us and too risky to do here in the school. They linger for a bit after we create them, and someone could go through by mistake.” Simon stops near the wall of the school and looks over the parking lot.

  “And the rift at the Branch isn't still there?” I ask. We went through that one when Simon took me to the failed dinner a couple of nights ago.

  “If it is, it's very weak. And besides, that's too far to go.”

  “I take it we don't have much time to report to the Main Chamber.” Butterflies form in my stomach like I'm about to be late to class. I am not going back to our quarters where those zombies could still be for all I know. What if I see one that I recognize, all dead and rotten?

  What if I see Melvin's corpse, begging me for help?

  I can't do that. No, I won't do that.

  I look around the open baseball diamond for any sign of shim
mering gold. Nothing. The lot. The air's clear and the wind light. The sun reflects off the windows of the bus garage, but there's no other sign of a rift. What are the chances of finding one here, anyway? Simon once said that on average, there's a stray rift once every ten miles or so and they open in random places. That's how regular people get lost in Time by mistake. “We might have to open one ourselves. I don't know how to do that.”

  “Time wouldn’t have summoned us if there wasn’t a weak spot somewhere close that leads to the Hub.” Simon's searching the wall of the school. "If it wants us badly enough, it'll open one for us. We just have to find it."

  There.

  I pause, staring at the bleachers on the other side of the football field. “Is that it?”

  The air next to them looks like it's warping, like pavement on a really hot day. The chain-link fence wavers, reflecting gold. The space has a yellow tint that I can't help but find beautiful. This rift is so faint that I would have missed it if I wasn't looking so hard.

  “You see it?” Simon asks. He appears at my side, smiling at me.

  I point. “I guess it's a good thing that no one's over there right now, isn't it? Who knows where they'd end up?”

  Simon's already running towards the ripple in time, sighing in relief. I follow. “That's probably why we were called. Someone did walk through a rift somewhere and wound up where they're not supposed to be.”

  I jog to catch up. My insides turn cold and the rift no longer looks pretty. Simon's words tighten around me.

  Someone like me has to go back to where they came from. It's our job to keep time in order. Like Frank. Like Isabel. I'm hoping we don't have to send them back to anything terrible.

  I face the school. Nobody's coming out after us.

  What if our assignment—our victim—came from a disaster like we did?

  Simon stops at the fence. The rift's on the other side, shimmering and waiting. My hair stands up. Not as much as it did around those rifts in the Hub, but the energy's there.