One Past Midnight

by Jessica Shirvington

  I didn’t react, even though I wanted to argue.

  “Okay, Sabine. Get some rest.” As I heard him gather his things, I rolled over.

  “Can I . . . Can I use a phone?” I knew I hadn’t done anything to deserve it in his eyes, but I had to try.

  At first I thought he would say no, but after a moment he gave a short nod. “Ethan will be here shortly. I’ll tell him you can make one call, but he will have to be present for the conversation, I’m afraid.”

  I nodded, relieved to at least have this.

  Dr. Levi stopped by the door. “I can help you, Sabine, but you have to want the help. It’s a two-way street, this talking stuff.”

  “So is listening,” I replied.

  He half-smiled. “Then I will try to listen more if you try to talk a little more, starting tomorrow.”

  I turned back toward the window.

  Talking was really not the answer. Talking had landed me in this mess. Talking—and the tests. But I’d needed to do the tests. And they’d worked. The physical didn’t cross over anymore. I knew that now. The rules had definitely changed.

  When I’d started all of this, I hadn’t allowed myself to contemplate this moment. To actually let my mind go there—to that final step. The choice. But there were no more tests. Now I needed to make the final decision.

  And do it.

  Ethan brought in a tray of dinner, placing it on one of those wheelie tables before taking up position in the armchair.

  I struggled with the bread—almost as much as with the silence. The broth, however, was good, and soothed my raw throat.

  After I’d done what I could with the meal, Ethan stood, collected the tray, and left. He returned a moment later, phone in hand.

  “I’m sorry, but I have to stay in the room. I’ll try not to intrude,” he said awkwardly, and handed me the phone.

  I took it and punched in Capri’s number as Ethan moved to the window, his back to me.

  “Yep,” Capri answered. Her standard greeting.

  “Capri, it’s me.”

  “Sabine?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You sound awful. Where have you been?” Her voice dropped. “If you were at some all-night party on Sunday and are just coming back to the world of the living now, I’m gonna be so pissed!”

  My smile was grim. Capri was so wrong, but so right at the same time. “No. Nothing like that. I, um . . . I’m not well.”

  “Where are you? I went over to your place. Your dad flipped out and wouldn’t let me in. So Davis and I climbed that big-ass tree outside your room and broke in. You weren’t there, obviously.”

  “Wait, how’d you get the window open?”

  “Oh, that.” I could almost see Capri’s face scrunching up into her guilty expression. “Well, Davis had a crowbar in his car and we figured it came down to a safety issue. That window’s been stuck for, like, ever. I mean, what if there was a fire and you really needed to get out of there one day? It was a public service more than anything.”

  I dropped my face into my hand. “You don’t know how right you are,” I mumbled, wishing Davis and his crowbar had been around when Team-Insane-Recruiters had turned up to haul me out of there.

  “What?” Capri replied, sounding hopeful she was off the hook.

  “Nothing. And you’re right, the window doesn’t matter.”

  I heard her blow out a breath. “So, are you home now?”

  “No, I, um . . . I’m . . . I’m in the hospital,” I said, my voice still hoarse.

  “Oh my God! Why?”

  “It’s just . . . some bug or something. They don’t know, so they’re testing me for a bunch of stuff,” I fumbled, realizing I hadn’t fully prepared for this conversation.

  “Oh, you poor thing. Angus and I will come visit you in the morning before school. Davis too, he’s been really worried, Sab.” I knew where this was leading.

  “Capri, would you please drop this Davis stuff. I don’t like him like that. I never will.” I don’t know why, but at that moment my eyes darted to Ethan’s motionless frame, his back still turned to me. I’m not sure what I expected. Nothing, I suppose.

  “But—”

  “Capri!”

  “Okay, okay, got it. No Davis. So when can I come see you?”

  “Oh. They, um . . . don’t want me to have visitors at the moment. You know,” I said, trying to keep my voice lighthearted, “in case I’m contagious.”

  “I don’t mind. If I get it, they can just give me the bed next to yours. Ooh, we can both blow off the last week of school!”

  My chest tightened with my next words. “You’re a great friend, you know.”

  “Save the pickup lines.” She snorted.

  “Ha-ha. I just wanted to let you know where I was. Mom and Dad are really overprotective right now. I’ll let you know what’s going on in a couple of days. I just . . . I need to ask a favor.”

  “Name it,” Capri said without hesitation.

  “Can you find a way to get to Maddie and check on her? She’ll be worried. Don’t tell her where I am. Mom and Dad have probably told her I’m in Disney World for all I know.” I couldn’t hide the sting in my voice, but Capri let it slide. Her mom was no picnic either and she hadn’t seen her dad in three years. “Can you just make sure she’s okay? That she . . . she knows I’m thinking of her and that . . . I love her?”

  “Jeez, Sab, this is heavy. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s just important that she knows. And that I’m going to be fine. Tell her that, please.”

  “Okay,” she said hesitantly. “I’ll play babysitter.”

  I blew out a grateful breath. “Thanks, Capri. I, um . . . I better go. Take care, okay.”

  “Sure thing. Call me soon,” she said before hanging up.

  I put the phone down. Ethan was still standing by the window. He didn’t turn around.

  “I’m . . . I’m finished,” I said.

  “So I hear,” he said, his voice low.

  His hand went to his face, and for a brief moment I wondered if he was wiping away a tear. Before I could say anything he suddenly spun around, his dark eyes fixing on me, causing my breath to lodge in my throat. I braced for him to say something, but after a second he just snatched the phone off the edge of the bed and left the room while I stared openmouthed after him.

  Ethan didn’t come back until 11:40 p.m. I know this because he brought a clock with him. Battery powered—no cable I could hang myself with. I held back the sardonic laugh; I didn’t want to risk being without a watch or clock again.

  “Thank you,” I said shakily.

  Ethan shrugged. “Here,” he said, holding out a piece of paper.

  “What is it?” I asked, puzzled by the list of questions.

  “Do you know the answers to any of these?”

  I studied the questions briefly before turning to him in confusion. Maybe he was the one who was insane.

  He sat down in the chair, watching me.

  “You said your memory goes with you, and that there were some things that are the same in both worlds. General constants.” He pointed to the piece of paper in my hand. “That’s a list of things I want you to tell me straight after midnight.”

  I glanced down at the list again.

  • Two numbers whose sum is 26 and product is 165

  • Cardiovascular benefits of chocolate

  • Translate: Thesaurum omnis vitae

  “Look, this isn’t some game. I can’t . . . I can’t take this list with me; it won’t travel.”

  Ethan crossed his arms and swung his feet up on the edge of the bed. “Well, start memorizing.” He gestured to the clock, looking irritatingly smug. “You only have fifteen minutes left.”

  I started to scoff, but he was looking right at me, into my eyes like no one had before. I tried to ignore the unwelcome tingle it set off in my body. Was . . . was he daring me? Challenging me? Or even . . . willing me to prove it to him? Suddenly a steely determ
ination settled over me. My eyes darted from the list to Ethan and back.

  “Sabine?”

  This was a chance. My chance. I looked at the clock, swallowed back the midnight nerves and nodded.

  “What language is the last one?” I asked.

  Ethan just looked at me.

  I rolled my eyes, but didn’t waste much time before getting back to memorizing the list.

  The minutes flew by as I read and reread each question. But when there were only two minutes to go, I couldn’t take it anymore and I dropped the list, my hands and body shaking all over.

  I really didn’t want to throw up in front of him. Again.

  “Is this normal?” Ethan asked, sitting up, watching me too intently for comfort.

  I took a deep breath to stop from being sick. “When I’m awake for the Shift,” I tried to explain.

  “Is it involuntary?”

  “It’s fear, okay!” I snapped, embarrassed.

  He got quiet and moved back in his seat.

  I closed my eyes and tried to recite the questions to myself, using them to distract me. After a few rounds I realized I should have shifted by now and opened my eyes. I was still in the hospital. Ethan was still sitting in front of me, watching as closely as ever.

  Shit.

  I looked at the clock. 12:04 a.m. How can . . . ?

  I looked at Ethan again. His expression was intrigued and . . . nervous.

  I glanced at the clock again. 12:05 a.m.

  “So,” he said casually. “Do you have my answers?”

  I was so confused. This had never happened before. Oh my God, what did this mean? What in the hell was happening to me?

  I glanced at the clock again. The clock Ethan had just brought me. Suddenly it clicked and I turned to glare at him.

  “You son of a bitch!”

  “Sorry?” he responded, playing dumb.

  “Oh, you heard me. You changed the time! It’s not midnight yet! You tricked me.”

  His eyes widened, but he tried to cover it up by acting suspicious. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I didn’t freaking shift! How long?” I shrieked, because right then, I didn’t care if he believed me or not, didn’t care one bit. What I cared about was the damn time! “Do you think this is a game? My life? Do you have any idea how awful it is, getting ready to shift? Shit! What’s the time?” I was losing my breath, grabbing at my hair, trying and failing to hold myself together.

  Ethan looked horrified at my outburst. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. It was a lousy trick. I just . . . I thought it might help.”

  I stilled myself and turned a cold stare on him, speaking low and level. “Ethan. What. Time. Is. It?”

  He pulled a watch out of his pocket. His face was stark as he looked back in my direction.

  “Sabine, I—”

  But it was too late. It was midnight.

  Tears streamed down my face the instant I shifted to Wellesley. The nausea that usually struck me when I was awake for a Shift took a backseat to the overwhelming sadness.

  The betrayal.

  I pulled my pillow to my chest and buried my face in it to smother the gulping sobs.

  How could Ethan trick me like that?

  My body trembled as I considered my cruel reality. I couldn’t take it anymore. The freakishness of my existence was bad enough, but the loneliness that constantly tortured me was far worse. I had thought there might be hope. That maybe I could make Ethan believe me.

  But that wasn’t going to happen.

  He didn’t want to believe me. He wanted to disprove me. I wouldn’t be so stupidly trusting again.

  I finally managed to calm myself down, knowing that if I broke into all-out hysterics, I’d risk waking Mom. But the emptiness stayed with me even after the tears went away. I slid further down into my silk sheets, curled around my pillow, and tried to go to sleep. But it was futile. Even after what he’d done to me, I couldn’t stop thinking about Ethan.

  Why had it suddenly become so damn important that he believe me? Especially since my future in that world was becoming increasingly less likely.

  The thought made me gasp.

  There. I’d admitted it.

  And it was true.

  The only thing holding me to my Roxbury world now was Maddie. My parents had pretty much disowned me. They’d probably even be relieved. And Capri would be okay; I had to believe that. But Maddie . . .

  Should I try to see her? Explain somehow? I shook my head at myself. I couldn’t do that. There was nothing I could say that would make it okay for her. I was no good to her there anyway, locked up in a mental ward. Eventually she’d find out. She’d hate me then. But I couldn’t just abandon her.

  I opened my teary eyes, a new thought stirring.

  Ethan could tell her.

  He was the only one who knew about my worlds from my point of view. After I was gone, one day when she was older, he could visit her and tell her the truth so she’d understand that I wasn’t dead. Just the opposite.

  But to do that . . . it brought me full circle. First, I still had to make Ethan believe me.

  In a panic I fumbled for my lamp switch and a notebook, scribbling down Ethan’s questions while I could still remember them.

  The thought of having to work at making Ethan really believe me was frightening. But making him understand was about Maddie now. I had to do it, despite how furious I was with him.

  When I woke, my anger toward Ethan gave me a renewed determination to make my Wellesley world everything I wanted it to be. At breakfast I asked Mom if she could pick me up after school and take me to get my Audi from the garage. I needed to be able to get around on my own. Mom already had a spa treatment booked, but she was on the phone to Lucas before I could stop her. I actually heard his groan through the telephone. Mom, however, remained oblivious and was thrilled as she hung up, assuring me that Lucas would be there to pick me up at the end of the day.

  Miriam showed up soon after.

  “Cute dress; it matches the circles under your eyes,” she said, motioning to my plum A-line dress.

  I shrugged, pulling down the visor to reapply some concealer. “Do I look that bad?” I asked and looked into the mirror.

  “Don’t panic. You look fine, pretty as ever, and Dex can only see your fabulous hair at the moment anyway. What gives? Were you up all night partying? Will Dex look just as tired when I see him?” She raised her eyebrows playfully.

  “No, I just didn’t get much sleep,” I answered, hoping the conversation would end there.

  “Sure,” she teased.

  The problem was, Miriam was right—I did look exhausted. I was starting to fray at the edges in this world and I couldn’t let that happen. As I continued adjusting my makeup, I wondered how long I could keep this up.

  But I had to. Falling apart was not an option. I needed to be the person people expected me to be here.

  So when Miriam suggested we swing by the fruit stand to get more supplies for our diet, I suppressed the irks and smiled in agreement. It was worth it if Miriam went on believing that apples were the key to my recent weight loss. I even paid for our selection, carefully avoiding fruit-stand guy’s eyes the entire time. With everything else that was going on, he was the least of my concerns.

  Dex found me as soon as we pulled into the parking lot; he took my bag and wrapped an arm around me as we walked into school.

  “Nice dress,” he commented, looking me up and down. I batted my eyelashes. Mom had followed yesterday’s form and left a new outfit for me this morning. I had to agree with Dex: the perfect-shade-of-plum jersey dress was to die for and would assume prime position on my favorites rack.

  “I still can’t get over how amazing you look with that hair,” he murmured in my ear, pulling me close.

  I smiled, enjoying the attention. It might not always feel sparky and magical with Dex, but I knew one thing for sure—he adored me. He’d had his pick of all the girls at school and he’d chosen me, con
tinuously, for the past two years. Not many guys do that. So what if he didn’t make me feel that . . . way I’d always imagined the L-word would? Tons of people said that stuff came with time. And time was something Dex would give me.

  I snuggled into his shoulder and blinked away the gnawing memory of Ethan—how just the way he looked at me sent shivers through my body.

  “A bunch of the guys are going to Mixons tonight. You interested?”

  I remembered Ethan’s list. But maintaining appearances in Wellesley was important too, so I needed to show up at the senior hangout.

  “Sure. I have to pick up my car this afternoon and run a couple of errands first. Meet you there?”

  He stopped outside my math class, pulling me to one side and kissing me quickly. “Sounds good. Tell Lucy and Miriam to come along too.”

  I nodded and he planted another quick kiss on my lips just as my math teacher walked past, clearing his throat.

  “In class, Sabine.”

  “Sorry, Mr. Barlow.” I blushed.

  Dex, however, looked thrilled at being caught and lingered long enough to earn another reprimanding stare from Mr. Barlow.

  In class, Lucy didn’t even bother to pretend to pay attention.

  “I can’t cope with this. We have eight tables of seven and every other table has ten. Every way I try to rearrange it, the possibility for a complete breakdown of room harmony presents itself.” Lucy flapped her table plan at me, looking desperate.

  Lucy was head of the graduation committee, which meant she was in charge of the seating plan for graduation dinner. It wasn’t like our prom—we’d had that a month ago—but it was just as important a tradition at our school. Graduation was everyone’s day. The smart students were acknowledged one last time, the socialites had their final opportunity to flaunt their connections, and everyone got the chance to reveal which colleges they would be attending. And last but not least, we got to parade around with our boyfriends and girlfriends for the last time—all while looking fabulous.

  I glanced over Lucy’s shoulder at her table plan as Mr. Barlow made a last-ditch effort to get control of the class. He suggested we call out random mathematical problems and jointly solve them for a bit of fun.