by Holly Hook
I decide I’ll leave the school building with a crowd of people and run to Peggy’s as fast as I can. Why can’t Simon be back already? What if they’ve figured out what he’s up to and locked him away?
The bell rings, and I bolt to my locker. Stuff my books inside, slam it, and wait by the main entrance for a thick crowd. I slip out right behind a group of chatting cheerleaders in skirts and stay behind them until I’m past where the buses wait. They turn down a corner that I’m not heading in and I break into a run, jogging past houses and swollen trash cans. The necklace bounces against my shirt. A few cars roll past. Frank and Isabel won’t try anything on a busy street, will they?
I search the yards for any sign of Simon. Nothing. While I hate stalkers, I really hope he’s here somewhere, watching.
I grip the teardrop necklace and jog across the street, images of jewelry on the Internet still swirling through my head. Nothing online seems to match whatever I'm wearing. There are loads of gems on Amazon. Tons of brooches and other designs on the fancier sites, but no tear drops filled with black flakes. The noose of frustration closes in more and more. I'm trying so hard. Why can't I figure this out?
"Come on, Simon," I mutter, tapping the necklace and hoping that he sees. I want him back here to give me some other clue, something more searchable online or something Nancy or Monica might know about. Most of all, I want him to put his lips back on mine. If he can't do so here, why can't he take me back to the Hub again? We seemed pretty safe in his quarters.
A lone jogger comes up behind me, and just in case, I tuck the necklace under my shirt.
"Julia. Stop."
I tense.
Turn.
It's Isabel.
I have no time to feel afraid. I whirl around, balling up a fist. I bottle all of my frustration into my punch and aim it right at her face. I’m doing something stupid, but I’m not going to stand here and let her take me away.
She reaches up and closes her hand around my fist.
My punch stops mid-swing and pain surges up my arm as if I’ve punched a brick wall. Behind my hand, Isabel's eyes are liquid gold, sunny gateways to another world.
The sight of it makes the strength wither from my arm which goes limp in her grasp. She's strong, way too strong like Frank was.
"Can we talk a minute?" Her words are low and secret. The gold melts out of her eyes, leaving a bright blue in their place which does nothing to calm me down. She’s got me. Simon’s not here. The rest of the street is empty. I’m on my own.
“Let go of me.” I try to wrench my arm from her grasp. It's as tight as ever, and there's no one coming up the sidewalk behind her. Only the far away corner of the school pokes out from the trees way behind her. The sun shines on the back of my jacket, making sweat form around the nape of my neck. It's the sweat of terror.
She must know about Simon. That's why she's here.
That, and to send me to my death.
"Can you let go of my arm?" I put as much tough girl into my words as possible, but my voice quivers. Who am I kidding? I'm up against an immortal.
She doesn't. "Julia," she says, voice lower. Her funny accent stands out more now. "I hate that I got assigned to this. I hate that I got chosen to send you back. So I'm going to give you a choice, unlike Frank." She loosens her grip on my fist enough for me to pull away.
My urge to punch her is gone. Isabel waits, patient, eyes soft and forgiving. I let out a breath. It might be some Timeless power she's using on me, but I don't feel threatened anymore. I've lost any urge to run. Is she doing a mind trick, like Simon did with my teachers? I can run now...but I can't.
It's still a good idea to play stupid, I decide, just in case she doesn't know about Simon or anything else.
"What are you?" I ask.
"I can't tell you," she says, sounding like a bad actress reading from a script. "Just know that Frank and I are doing what's best for everyone."
"Except for me," I blurt. Then I catch myself. "I don’t think wherever you plan to send me is too pleasant. You know, with all the screaming and the--"
"Julia," she continues. "I'm not going to force you to go anywhere right now. I'm a bit more understanding than Frank." Her words are laced with sympathy. "But going back to your real time is going to happen sooner or later. You have only a few days left. They'll find you. The pull's going to be strongest then. That's when we have to send you back. After that, it will be much harder."
"Come on, Isabel. Do you work for some time travel company or something?"
She crooks her head to the side and looks at me funny.
I laugh.
She doesn't know that's my way of hiding the screams inside.
A few days left.
That's it. That's all the time I have left to figure this out.
Then I'm dead.
"That's not true," I stammer.
Isabel sighs. "It is. I'm sorry." She sounds sincere. "To be honest, it'll be better if you don't know the truth before you go back. It'll spare you a lot of anguish. That's why I'm giving you the choice. Go back now or wait."
So she isn't going to lend me the answer to where I'm from, either. That seals mine.
"No. I'm not going."
Isabel shows no reaction, no emotion. Her eyes take on a glint of that sunrise gold again, but it's gone in less than a second. It reminds me too much of Frank in the limo.
I press on. "If you feel so crappy about this, then why do you want to send me to my death? Shouldn't you be on my side? Shouldn't you give me some answers or at least try to help?" I'm getting hysterical by now. The dam is breaking in two, letting the water flood everything.
Isabel stares at the sidewalk for what feels like an eon. "I wish I could, Julia. But certain forces have put me and Frank up to this task. This isn't an easy case."
She means Time. Time wants me dead.
The universe wants me dead.
I turn and run. A glance back reveals Isabel still standing on the sidewalk, honoring my decision.
I turn the corner away from Happy Rabbit's and head home.
I'll skip work today. Call Peggy and tell her I'm sick.
I'm doing a movie night with Monica and Nancy. It might be the last one I ever get to do.
Chapter Ten
Nancy and Monica are happy to have a movie night.
We make a huge bowl of popcorn and stay up late watching the new Hobbit film in Nancy's den. I leave my homework in my room, undone. The dishes stay dirty in the sink for tomorrow. I curl up on the couch between Nancy and Monica as we talk, watching the shadow of one of her model ships dancing on the wall. It's a magical few hours where I've left everything ugly behind me.
But once the end credits roll and we get ready for bed, the fear and tension return.
A few more days.
That's all.
Then I might never see Nancy and Monica again.
I need to find out what I'm supposed to go back to now. It's my only chance at survival.
That, and possibly Simon. I steal several glances out the kitchen window as we wash up. Monica keeps asking me why I'm doing so, but I have a feeling she knows who I'm watching for.
I have to have that dream again.
* * * * *
April 10
We plunge together.
The cold stabs into me like a million knives, stealing my breath away.
"Julia!" Simon screams as the golden rift opens behind him.
I reach out for him.
Our fingers brush.
Miss.
Simon flies away, dragged by hands of light.
The light closes, leaving me falling.
"Julia!"
I hit bottom.
Someone taps on glass. "Julia."
--and I open my eyes to my bright bedroom. My light shines overhead.
The tapping sound comes again. I shiver under my covers. The cold eats down to my bones this time. There's no shaking it off.
2:20.
The time
glows at me from my alarm clock, just like I expected.
This nightmare's growing stronger every night. Isabel's right.
It's preparing, circling to come in for the kill. Unless I solve this mystery in the next couple of days, I'll fall through that night for real.
I wiggle my toes, trying to get some circulation back in them. They tingle and burn, coming back to life. They've gone numb.
The tapping comes again.
"Julia. You hear me?"
Simon.
The window.
My heart leaps up at the same time that I do. I stumble across my bed. My limbs aren't working quite right, like I've just come in from walking miles through a blizzard. I feel a bit faint as my head spins. Do I have hypothermia? 2:20 has never gotten to me like this.
Simon motions down to the latch.
He didn't abandon me.
I fumble with the lock on the window and finally turn it over. Open it. Pop out the screen and let it fall to the floor. Thankfully, the noise isn't enough to wake Monica or Nancy. Nancy's snores continue uninterrupted from the across the house.
Simon climbs in, bringing the cool night air with him. Compared to my skin, it's hot. Blazing, even.
"S…s…" My teeth rattle, preventing me from even finishing his name.
"It's okay." He sits on the bed next to me and pulls me into an embrace. I rest my head on his shoulder, too cold to do anything except absorb his body heat and feel it radiating into me. Simon is warmth. He's life. "Just relax for a while."
We sit there for a long time. My heart slows as I enjoy steady, reliable feel of his pulse, a pulse that can never die. He says nothing.
Finally, when I shift, he speaks. "It's getting worse, isn't it? Have you figured it out yet?" He's all desperation and hope.
"No." The thought brings me down all over again. The answer has his arm wrapped around me, snuggling me, and there's no way he can open up. Simon must hate Time as much as I do. "I honestly don't know where to find the answer. Really, I don’t. I've tried researching the necklace you gave me. I've even tried typing '2:20' in every search engine I can. All I get with that is something from the Bible and stuff for high school track times. I know that time's important.”
Simon hugs me tighter from the side. His lips tickle my skin as he kisses me on the temple. "I wish this was easier for you, Julia. It should be obvious. I'm not sure how the truth is escaping you."
I balk for a second until I realize he's not insulting my intelligence. He's insulting the whole horrible situation. I'm right there with him. We're united in our frustration.
"I've been thinking," he says. "We need a new way to approach this. The dream book you had the other day gives me an idea. Have you ever tried something called lucid dreaming?"
"Monica said something about it once.” An idea hits me. “It's a way to take charge of your dreams, right? You have to realize you're asleep and then you can do whatever you want. Right?” Why haven't I thought of this sooner?
Simon runs his hands down both my arms. It's enough to set off that power grid again. "If you become conscious while you're in that nightmare, then you can probably stay in for a little longer. It might be enough time for you to see where you are. That should tell you everything."
A shudder races down my spine. The thought of staying in 2:20 for any longer than usual is enough to send panic screaming through me. "But wouldn't that be dangerous? Like when Frank shoved Eric into the pond?"
"Julia, would I do anything that would hurt you? Things will be a lot more dangerous if you don't know what you could be facing in a few days. And besides, dreams can't send you back since they're only in your mind. Only physical happenings can."
A few days left. Something about the way he says that makes me remember this afternoon.
"I saw Isabel today," I tell him. And he wasn't there. A flare of anger rises in me, chasing some of the cold away.
Simon curses under his breath. At least, I think it's a curse. "I didn't see you take your normal route to work today. I was watching. Was Frank with her?"
So Simon was there. I just got away from him.
"No. She told me my going back is pretty much going to happen no matter what. Is that true?"
He doesn't look surprised. Simon licks his lips and grips the bedspread. "It could be. That's when they're planning to strike again. To send you back. It'll be easiest to open a rift then."
The anger rushes back. I can't help but shoot off the bed and turn to face him, fists balled. "Then why didn't you tell me? And why in a few days? Why not any other time?”
Simon shifts on the bed. No answer.
Maybe there isn't one. Or he can't tell me.
I stare at the wall and at the black light that hangs there. It's off, but the clock radio reads 2:30 a.m. About ten minutes ago, I woke to him tapping on the window.
"So I'm going to die."
"Not necessarily. It's not that simple. I'm trying everything to make sure of that." Simon's breath blows against my ear. In my rage I didn't hear him coming up behind me.
"But I'll forget all about this time if I go back to wherever I'm supposed to die." I whirl around. "True, right?"
"True. But I'm working on a loophole."
"What loophole?" My voice rises and I take a deep breath. Monica's asleep on the other side of the wall. Nancy's on the other side of the house, but even she'll wake up if this gets too loud.
"I can't say." His chocolate eyes beg me to understand. He sighs in frustration.
"So my best bet for now is to try this lucid dreaming thing."
His face softens as the tension melts away. "I'm not sure what the best way is to go about it. I'd ask Monica if I were you. She has the avid interest in psychology.”
"She's obsessed." Hope is starting to shine inside of me like the sunrise to the longest night of the year. Maybe there's finally a way to accomplish this. "I think I'll do that."
Simon nods. "Good. I have to warn you. It won't be easy to learn the truth."
"I figured it wouldn't be." I try to sound solid and confident but don't quite pull it off.
Simon leans forward and plants a kiss on my forehead. The gentle pressure of his lips lingers even after he draws away, like a butterfly on a flower. "Not all of it was bad, Julia. Just the end.”
And then he's climbing out of the window and disappearing into the night.
* * * * *
"Okay," Monica says over the lunch table the next day. "If you want to take control of your nightmare, the best way I can think of for you to do it is repeat some suggestion to yourself over and over as you go to sleep. Like 'I will know I'm dreaming when I start falling.'
I drop the fork onto my tray. "That simple?"
Her expression darkens. "It keeps my nightmares under control. You'll have to lull yourself to sleep with it. Boring, I know." Monica tightens her hair tie. "You need some trigger that'll make you become conscious in your dream. I'd focus on something that happens in your dream over and over. A sure bet."
I rake over 2:20 in my head. There's only one trigger I can count on.
And that's Simon screaming my name.
When Simon shouts my name, I will know I'm dreaming.
The finality of it makes my palms tingle with nerves.
I could learn the truth tonight.
"I think I got it," I say, spearing some peas. "Are you sure this will work?" I'm running out of time. There's no reason to doubt Isabel on that.
"I've never tried it myself, but it should."
I want to sleep and find out the truth right now, but nothing's an option other than tonight after 2 a.m. The nightmare has never happened at any other time, so there's no sleeping through math. I chuckle like a maniac and stop myself before anyone sees. Monica's smiling at Trey as he makes a beeline for our table and sits. I'm in the clear.
Yet I can't eat. I push around the peas on my tray, which the lunch crew has somehow managed to make greasy. Right now I want nothing more than to have Simon
sitting here, watching me poke at my food and reassuring me that I'm not going to die. A small part of me even wishes that Isabel were somewhere in this cafeteria, watching me. At least she seems to understand the black, sick feeling growing inside. Monica doesn't even know about that.
I want someone, anyone, here to understand.
I rise from the table before even thinking about doing it. I stare at the window that shows the garden outside. The first flowers of the year poke up through the mud, purple and yellow smudges close to the ground.
I might never see flowers again.
"Julia? See something interesting?" Trey turns to face where I'm looking.
"No." I force myself to sit.
The rest of lunch is very quiet.
Chapter Eleven
Eleven twenty-five.
I'm home, in the bathroom and getting ready for bed.
Simon has left me on my own for this.
I brush my teeth. The mint is almost bitter. The noise of the brush swishing grows loud and taunting.
None of the other Timeless made an appearance today. Simon had no reason to hide.
I throw my toothbrush down at the drain in the sink. It bounces and tries to slide back up the side. Then it settles down and gives up. Dead.
A sob fights its way up my throat.
I won't cry.
If I let it out, it'll destroy that last glimmer of hope. I have to hold on.
I need to know I'm dreaming when Simon screams my name.
The trip back to my darkened room feels like the longest walk of my life. I might as well be heading to death row. I'm about to see my execution.
Down the hall, faint light peeks out from under Monica's door. She's probably up late, stuck working on some homework project. I wish it were me, researching physics instead of finding out how I'm supposed to die.
The clock reads eleven thirty-four as I close my bedroom door behind me. I've already gathered extra blankets from the closet for the cold that I'm going to feel. Turned up the thermostat without Nancy noticing. Sweat starts to form under my nightgown, but it's better than freezing to death.