Tempest

by Julie Cross

  “So … you don’t believe your own research?” I knew a few pictures wouldn’t be enough.

  “Of course I do, in theory. How did you get these pictures of me? My parents’ computer, maybe?”

  “I took them myself. And what do you mean, ‘in theory’? Either you believe it or you don’t.”

  “I believe time travel is possible, but with a lot more research and probably technology that doesn’t exist yet.”

  “You’re wrong,” I stated flatly.

  “It’s not possible?”

  “It’s very possible and I can do it.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “All right, prove it.”

  “What can I say that won’t make me sound like a carnival fortune-teller? It’s the future. You get into MIT and get a 2300 on your SATs.”

  “Not a bad score. What else you got?” He leaned back and put his hands behind his head.

  I flopped back onto my bed and yanked the journal from my bag before thumbing through the pages. “It’s possible I forgot what you told me to say.”

  “Must not have been important.”

  “It’s not like I really thought I’d get stuck in the past.” I sat up and grinned before pointing at his chest. “Your dog just died, didn’t he? Like a few days ago?”

  “Thanks for the reminder,” he grumbled. “But that doesn’t prove anything. Jana and I were talking about it tonight. You must have overheard.”

  “Sorry.”

  “How did you meet me, in the future?”

  “We worked at a day camp together. Holly did, too.” I watched his face carefully for any indication he believed me, but it was all calm and cool.

  “But you must have proved that you could time-travel at some point, right?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, it started something like this conversation. Only we were supervising an all-night campout. The kids were asleep and it was just us. You came up with an experiment and made me jump back and forward again.” I opened my wallet and handed him the memory card. “This has lots of experiment data on it.”

  He flipped it between his fingers while I went back to the journal, trying to find the page with my description of that first experiment.

  “That was all it took to fool me? My older self must be an idiot.”

  “No, you made me do it ten times.” The scribbled cursive at the bottom of the April 11, 2009, entry caught my eye. “Here, check this out! You wrote yourself a note.”

  He snatched the notebook from my hand. I watched as all the color drained from his face and he sank back onto the couch. “How did you get this?”

  “You wrote it. I don’t even know what it says. Is it Latin?”

  “Yeah … Latin.” His fingers froze on the corner of the page.

  “What’s it say?”

  After a long silence, he jumped into action, flipping frantically through the pages, then finally said, without looking up, “Not important. Forget about it.”

  I stared at the ceiling, waiting patiently for the questions that would inevitably follow. Of course Adam would know exactly what to tell himself. Something he would never doubt. I shouldn’t have doubted him, either.

  * * *

  “Jackson, wake up!” Adam stood over me, shaking my shoulders.

  It was so bright that I could barely open my eyes. He must have turned on every light in the bedroom. “What time is it?”

  “Four.”

  With all my excursions into different years, saying it was four meant nothing to me. I walked to the window and saw that it was still dark outside. That’s when I took in the mass of computer parts piled on the floor. Extraneous pieces were strewn all over the room and two monitors now sat on the desk.

  “What the hell—”

  “Sorry, I borrowed two other computers from around the house to collate your most recent data. The hard drive wasn’t big enough and didn’t work with the memory card you gave me, so I kinda … made my own computer.” He shuffled around, picking up loose items and tossing them into the pile faster than I’d ever seen him move.

  I studied his current state closely. His black hair stuck up in every direction, pupils dilated like a crack addict, and he was doing the snapping thing with his fingers. I had seen him like this once before after a six-pack of Red Bull. He could probably be declared insane in this state. “Did you have caffeine?”

  He held up a thick stack of papers. “I’ve got some notes to go over with you.”

  “Let’s eat first. Was it Red Bull or coffee?” I shoved him toward the door from behind. He didn’t object, but he held the papers to his chest, probably so I couldn’t take them.

  “Ready for number one on my list of questions?” he asked, plopping down at the kitchen table.

  I grabbed some turkey slices from the fridge and a loaf of bread and tossed them onto the table. “All right, but eat while you talk. Soak up some of that caffeine.”

  He stuffed a piece of bread in his mouth and chewed quickly. “Wait … so, in 2009 you’re nineteen and Holly’s nineteen and you’re both freshmen at NYU?”

  “No, I’m a sophomore … Holly’s a freshman.”

  “Holly’s a junior,” he said, then immediately shook his head. “This Holly is a junior and the other one is in college … got it. How did you meet us in March 2009? We were still in high school, right? Or do we graduate early?!”

  “No, you don’t graduate early.… We started camp counselor training in March … it was just a few sessions until the summer officially started.”

  “Dude … that’s a little taboo, isn’t it? College guy, hooking up with a high school chick? Oh wait … guess that’s what you’re trying to do now … but worse.”

  I sighed, fighting the urge to crawl back in bed again. This all made sense in my head. “It’s not taboo. That Holly is only four months younger than me. She’s one of the older ones in her grade and I’m one of the younger ones.… That’s all. Is this really important? And shouldn’t you know this already? You’ve known Holly for how long?”

  “Two years … and my brain is moving too fast to hold on to these minor details. Plus, she was born in ’90 and I’m ’91 … and it’s throwing me off. Okay, so you commute from here to NYU? And Holly lives in the dorm? Which dorm? Maybe we should go scope it out?”

  “You’re making me really tired,” I said. “I didn’t commute from here. I lived in a dorm both freshman and sophomore year … a different dorm than Holly. But you’ve been here, to this apartment, before … the older you.… I lived at home during the summer and on breaks. Holly’s been here, too … and to my dorm. Anything else? Need to know all of my professors’ names or the path I took to class every day?”

  Adam paused for a long moment, staring at the paper in front of him, then finally said, “Nope … not now anyway.”

  “Next question?” I prompted, rubbing my temples.

  “So, what happens if you … for example … jump back thirty minutes, then stay thirty-one minutes? Then, technically, you’d be in—”

  “The future,” I finished. “I’ve never traveled outside the span of my own life.”

  He nodded. “That’s what I figured. Do you even have to jump back? If you end up staying in the past until it’s the same time you left?”

  It was so weird being the one explaining shit to Adam. “Sorry, I have a few missing pages, but we did that experiment really early on. I just bounce back. Remember, it’s different when I’m in the middle of a jump. I feel like I’m not all the way there, like I feel lighter, very little sensation as far as hot and cold. And nothing I do during my normal jumps affects my home base.”

  “Right,” he said, stuffing more bread in his mouth. “All those regular jumps are like some kind of shadow timeline. Or a … mirror timeline.”

  “Yeah, like watching the same movie over and over, hoping eventually that the character you don’t want to die will somehow make it. Or maybe if you shout a warning at them, it’ll change something, but it never does,” I concluded. �
�But how the hell did I end up here, in 2007? Not as a … shadow, but the real me?”

  “And how did the other you just disappear?” Adam asked, shaking his head. Then he stared at me with his crazy, caffeine-addict eyes. “I do have a theory.”

  I rested my elbows on the table, trying to focus, even though it would probably be over my head. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

  “Well, first of all, it’s obvious that there’s only one version of you in any given home base.”

  “Yep, but technically, I’m in the past right now.”

  He leaned forward, over his papers, and slammed his fist on the table. “What if this is another universe!”

  I nearly fell out of my chair. “Okay, you are definitely insane.”

  He scoffed at me and shook his head. “Seriously? All the crazy shit that’s happened to you and you think I’m insane because I mention parallel universe theory?”

  I laughed without even thinking about it. He was right. What the hell did I know? “Let’s tuck that one away for future analysis. What’s the next question on your list?”

  “There’s a couple times you noted that it felt like you were being forced back. I’ll figure out a formula for this, but it seems you can’t actually live in the past.”

  I let out a breath. “Apparently I can … if I move my home base.”

  “Exactly. If only we knew how you did that. But I don’t get why you can’t go back to 2009. Or to that other universe, if we’re going with that theory. None of the experiments indicated even the slightest possibility of getting stuck in the past. Although, obviously, I planned for it just in case. By writing the note. My older self, anyway.”

  I sat across from him and covered his papers with my hand. “So you really do believe me? That I’m from the future?”

  I needed to make sure it wasn’t just the caffeine talking and that he’d go back to logical, realistic thinking in a couple hours.

  “Yeah, there’s no doubt in my mind. But did you leave 2009 because you thought those dudes with guns would kill you?”

  “You read that part of the journal?” He nodded and I took a deep breath before spilling something I hadn’t told anyone, future or past. “Honestly, I don’t even remember deciding to leave, but I know staying would have been too hard … You read about my sister, right?”

  “Cancer, brain tumors, died in April of 2005,” he rattled off from his notes.

  “I wasn’t there when she died,” I admitted.

  Adam lifted his eyes to mine, staring intensely. “I thought the time-traveling didn’t start until years after that.”

  “I mean, I just wasn’t there. Like, in the room with her.” I swallowed the lump threatening to form in my throat. “You know how people always say they wished they could have been there, to say good-bye or whatever?”

  He pushed the notes aside and rested his arms on the table. “Yeah?”

  “Well, I didn’t want to be there. I was too scared. Not so much about talking to her, or being sad, but the actual act of watching someone go from living to … not living. I saw it in my head so many times, her chest moving, taking in deep breaths, and suddenly it just…”

  “Stops,” Adam finished for me.

  “And then I was thinking all these things, like … when does she stop hearing us? Is it after her last breath? Because people hold their breath all the time, maybe she would still hear us or be processing thoughts.” I rubbed my eyes, ridding them of the blurriness. “It’s stupid … I know.”

  “It’s not stupid,” Adam said softly. “But I’m not sure what your theory is … How does this have anything to do with leaving 2009?”

  “Well … Holly was breathing and I didn’t want to see her … stop. And that’s probably why I’m stuck here … why I can’t go back.”

  His forehead wrinkled. “I’m still not getting it.”

  “Karma. Punishment … for leaving.” I picked at the slice of turkey in front of me, keeping my eyes on the table. “But if I could do it over—”

  He waved his hand to stop me. “No, it’s cool. I just needed to wrap my head around your theory.”

  “I’m sure that’s the reason. People shouldn’t get a second chance to do the right thing. And karma is probably going to keep kicking my ass, and Holly’s never going to want anything to do with me. Like last night.”

  “Yeah, you completely bombed.” He busied himself making a sandwich.

  “I was such an idiot. And she’s got guys like Toby asking her out all the time.”

  “Well, guys don’t ask her out often. She doesn’t give off that vibe. That’s how it works. And Toby isn’t capable of looking at a girl without having some kind of sexual fantasy.” He crammed the corner of the sandwich into his mouth. “Seriously, he’s very open about what goes on inside his head and I don’t think he knows how to do the whole ‘friend thing’ with a girl. So, he flirts instead. Besides, he knows she’ll say no.”

  I rested my head in my hands, trying to get some grasp on the idea of this day … of this year … as my new life. When would I ever stop wanting to be somewhere … somewhen else? And what was less selfish—staying here or continuing on with more attempts to get back? And could I even save Holly if I did?

  “You don’t have to answer any more questions right now. I’m sure this is hard for you,” Adam said, breaking me from my thoughts.

  I lifted my head and smiled at him. “Honestly, you can ask me everything on that list. It’s been forever since I could actually talk to someone like this. No lies or cover stories.”

  He tried to hide the excitement on his face, but I wasn’t fooled. Maybe it wouldn’t be fun and games like it had been in 2009 … but at least I wasn’t alone.

  “I think we can be absolutely sure of one thing,” Adam said after sliding the notes back in front of him again.

  “What’s that?”

  “You have definitely changed your home base, but I don’t know how the hell you managed that.”

  “Besides hopping over to another universe.” I grinned at him. “Knowing you, you won’t give up until you find out.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 2007, 8:00 A.M.

  I got to the gym around eight to get my cleaning done early so I could help Holly with the parties. I thought it might make a nice peace offering, since she hated me now. When I opened the door, the lights were already on and two people were in the gym: Holly and Toby.

  She was swinging around the bars, with Toby standing on a block underneath her.

  So this is the sweating and touching he mentioned yesterday.

  Toby gave her a push on one of her swings and I nearly had a heart attack when she let go of the bar and flipped twice in the air before landing with a loud thud on the blue mats.

  “Nice!” Toby said.

  “That was pretty freaky,” I said.

  Both of them jumped, and then relaxed when they saw it was me, but Holly’s face tightened immediately.

  Damn, she’s still mad.

  Holly took off for the locker room to change. I gathered my supplies and started cleaning the front windows. After a while, Toby strolled over.

  “I guess she’s still pissed off,” he said.

  My stomach twisted with grief, but I forced a grin. “You’re probably psyched.”

  He laughed and picked up an extra rag to clean a smudge on the window next to me. “Maybe, but I’m not going to fall apart because Holly Flynn turned me down for a date.”

  “Sure, you won’t,” I said.

  “Seriously, she’s just fun to tease. Don’t get me wrong. Holly’s really cool. But a girl like that is a little more than I can handle.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Too smart—I couldn’t pull any shit with her. She’d see right through me.” He paused in his window-cleaning and tilted his head to one side. “I’d make out with her, though.”

  “So, why isn’t Holly on the team, like you and Jana?” I asked. “She seems reall
y good.”

  “She hasn’t competed in three years, since she moved from Indiana. I think it’s injuries and maybe a money thing.”

  “Money?”

  “She’s not in the poorhouse or anything. But it’s an expensive sport.”

  “Is she good enough to compete?”

  “Yeah, that girl’s got more talent than anyone on our team. She’d never believe me, though, which is why I’d never tell her.”

  “She’ll just think you’re trying to hook up with her.”

  He laughed. “Well, at least I’m not the professional player. Besides, I just met this chick last night at my friend’s party. She’s mega-hot and a total airhead.”

  “Exactly your type, right?”

  “Yeah, but only if the flakiness is genuine. Not that pretend-I’m-stupid shit. You know it’s going to bite you in the ass later. Besides, I love messing with people who just don’t get it.”

  I had to stop myself from telling Toby how lame his dating philosophy was. “She sounds like a blast.”

  Both of us stopped talking when we saw Holly come out of the locker room wearing her staff shirt and tan shorts. Her hair was wet and braided. On the front of her shirt she had pinned a giant button that said PARTY HOST.

  I followed her to the party room. She was placing cups on the table in front of each chair. I grabbed a stack of plates and walked behind her, setting them next to each cup. She ignored me for several minutes, then finally stopped and turned to face me.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m just helping. You’re obviously pissed off and I’m trying to smooth things over.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Why?”

  I tried to respond, but my tongue twisted, holding back words I couldn’t say. What would my Holly have told me to do?

  Jackson, quit being a chickenshit and outsmart me.

  “I’ll tell you why if you tell me why you’re mad.”

  She went back to setting the table with brightly colored spoons and forks. “I’m not mad … just not interested.”

  Ouch. “Why not?”

  “Because I know your type.”

  “Which is?”

  She grabbed a roll of string and a pair of scissors and started cutting long strips to tie on the ends of the balloons. “You know … the type that’s all charming just to get in a girl’s pants.”