by Melissa Faye
I paused a few blocks away from the bar. My head was pounding. Thoughts poured through my mind too quickly for me to track. I’d have to apply for financial aid. Can I even get financial aid after the semester has started? I had to tell my grandparents. But they would panic, and I hated causing them stress. My grandfather, Pops, wasn’t doing well. Ma tried to hide it from me, but I knew something was wrong. I missed so many classes already. Should I even bother finishing the semester if I can’t pay for it?
I swayed on my feet. Harrison caught me. I pushed him away and sat down on the sidewalk, leaning against a wall.
There was one easy solution. I could hack into the bank and replace the money. Hell, I could add more money to my accounts without anyone tracing it back to me. Smith said I only thought I was the good guy. He said that if things got rough, I’d abuse my abilities. Maybe he was right. It was the simplest solution, and who would get hurt? The banks would barely notice; I’d make it look like a glitch in the system. But I had a literal moral compass: June’s Rules for Time Travel. If I abandoned them now, what would that make me?
It would make me as bad as people like Smith.
Harrison was on his phone and wouldn’t look at me. I knew he was texting with Ridge. I made myself stand up, and continued walking towards the nearest subway line.
“We can figure this out, June,” Harrison easily kept up with me with his long legs. I was too angry to speak. “Ridge says he can help get you through the semester. There’s financial aid. Can your family help? You can get a job. There are a hundred ways to solve this.”
I stopped in my tracks.
“There’s one way I can fix this immediately. I can hack into the bank and replace all of the money without anyone knowing about it.”
“You wouldn’t do that. It’s like stealing.”
“You and Ridge didn’t seem to care that Smith has been manipulating everyone around us with his advanced physiology stuff and weird bracelet technology. Why should you care if I fix things the way he would?”
“I know you, June. That’s not how you work.”
“You don’t know me. You just met me.” I couldn’t think straight with a new jackhammer in my head. I wanted Harrison to leave me alone, and I wanted Ridge’s texts to stop buzzing in my pocket.
“I didn’t just meet you, June. I met you last month. You made me forget, right?”
It wasn’t fair. It was a slap in the face that I might have deserved, but not now. Anxiety and shame welled up inside me, threatening to take over.
“I’m taking the train up to Queens. Do not follow me.”
I turned on my heels and left Harrison standing on the street. At least he wasn’t following me anymore.
MY FACE WAS WET WITH tears by the time I showed up at my grandparents’ house. It had been my home since my parents died. As soon as I left for school, though, it felt like this house was a pit stop on the roadtrip between pre-guardian June and new adult-guardian June. I used my key to sneak in.
My grandmother came careening down the stairs. Her face grew soft when she saw me.
“Junebug? What are you doing here?”
“I can’t right now, Ma.” And then the tears really started, and Ma pulled me into a big hug. She poured me some tea and didn’t ask questions. I fell asleep in my old bedroom. My head was still pounding, and I couldn’t turn my thoughts off until early in the morning. At least my professors already knew I wouldn’t be coming to class.
I woke to a constant buzzing on my phone. Lacey was sending text after text.
Where have you been??? Honey said you didn’t sleep here last night.
Are you okay? Missed class yesterday!
Presentation this afternoon – where are you?? You have the data on your computer, don’t you?
I put my phone on silent. It was humiliating; maybe I wasn’t a student anymore. I looked around my childhood bedroom as I got dressed. Most of my tech supplies and gadgets were still there, though everything important was in the trunk under my bed at the dorms. I scanned the room for anything that might be helpful to have nearby. My bookshelves. The plastic containers with retired inventions shoved into the back of the closet. My desk, burned several times over by a soldering iron. I noticed a small piece of paper sticking out of the bottom desk drawer.
It was an old, wrinkled piece of construction paper. June’s Rules for Time Travel. The first few rules were simple: Don’t try to take over the world. Don’t change things. The page was covered in different colored pens and pencils where I’d made additions and edits. There was even the section of rules for myself. “June doesn’t time travel” was the big one.
I slid the paper into an outer pocket of my messenger bag. If nothing else, Ridge would enjoy seeing it again.
I trudged downstairs where my grandparents were already puttering around. Ma was cleaning and Pops was watching TV in the living room on his old recliner. I slid across the cold tile floors in my kitchen with my bare feet. Being in that house was a familiar feeling I hadn’t realized I missed.
Ma clanged dishes around in the sink. She gave me a sidelong glance when I came in but didn’t speak. I poured myself a bowl of cereal, and she joined me at the table.
“What are you doing here, Junebug? And what happened to your head?”
I touched my stitches. I kept forgetting about the stitches, but the headaches were still a constant reminder of what happened in the subway with Smith.
“I fell down some stairs at school.” I gave Ma a weak smile. “I’m ok.”
“So that’s not why you came here last night?”
“I needed a place to crash. That’s all.”
Ma sighed and sipped a mug of coffee.
“You should come here more often, you know. Pops isn’t doing too well.”
I leaned forward across the table so I could get a better view of him in the living room.
“Are you doing alright?”
Ma chuckled. “I’m doing fine. I’m worried about you, Junebug.”
I chewed on my thumbnail. My cereal bowl sat before me, but I wasn’t hungry.
“You know, your mom was like this. Actually, she wasn’t as mysterious as you are until she met your father. Then she stopped telling us everything. You haven’t told us everything in years. You’re always hiding something.” She gave me a weak smile and took another sip of coffee. “I don’t mind you having secrets, Junebug, but I would appreciate if you would tell us something once in a while.”
I never told Ma and Pops about my work. They could have asked, but they never did. I told them I was out late with friends, or riding my bike around for exercise, and they scolded me and let it go. Telling them never felt like a real option. They had other things to worry about. Ridge was all the help I needed.
I changed the subject.
“What would I have done about college if Mom and Dad hadn’t left me all that money?”
“Now why would you ask that?” Ma finished her coffee and put the mug in the sink. “They made sure you had what you needed –“
“Of course! But what if that money wasn’t there?”
Ma placed a hand on her hip. “You’d get some financial aid. That’s how people usually do it. Maybe we would have pushed you to get a job in high school.”
“Yeah...” I kept chewing my nail. I could get financial aid, but I didn’t know how it worked. This semester was paid for. Could I still get it for next semester? I wasn’t used to feeling so ignorant about how things worked.
“What if I needed you and Pops to help?” I couldn’t look at Ma without giving myself away. My head pounded and anxiety clenched my chest tightly. “I mean, a little bit. If I had financial aid but it didn’t cover everything.”
“Oh, Junebug.” Ma considered me carefully, cocking her head to the side. She wore her usual outfit: pants, a long sleeved shirt, and a long open sweater. She wore it every day no matter the season. Now, she pulled the sweater tightly around her.
“Why would you ask somethi
ng like that?” Ma’s face was red now. She returned to the sink and washed out her mug with much more soap than she needed.
“You know Pops and I don’t have much,” she said, her back towards me. “And lately there have been some extra bills.”
I furrowed my brow. “Extra bills?”
Ma scrubbed that mug. It might not have any ceramic left on it once she was done scrubbing. She finally set it in the drying rack and sat with me again.
“Junebug, we didn’t want to worry you.” She gently pulled my fingers away from my mouth. “Pops is having some trouble remembering things lately.”
I looked back over at him. He was watching an old western and humming to himself. Nothing out of the ordinary.
“Remembering things? Like dementia?”
Ma’s voice was lower and scratchy now. “Maybe Alzheimer’s. They’re not sure. But the bills...seeing specialists costs a lot of money.”
I couldn’t ask Ma and Pops for any help. If Pops needed to see doctors, and they were only living off social security checks, then they were already struggling more than I realized. I should be the one giving them money out of my parents’ account. But I was stupid enough to let a traveler steal it from us.
I pushed my chair back from the table. The legs squeaked against the tiled floor. My thoughts spiraled. If I couldn’t help them, who would? Would they lose the house? What would happen when Ma needed help, too? That life insurance money was our lifeline. Ma and Pops never touched it. They said it was for college. But if I still had it, I could share it with them. Make them take it.
My eyes welled up with tears again.
“Will you let me help you with bills?” I felt like a little kid again, getting in trouble for disappearing for all hours of the day. Trudging in the house with muddy feet when it hadn’t been raining. I’d been down by the river, fighting off a traveler. Ma and Pops always looked the other way.
“No, sweetie.” Ma took my hand gently and blinked rapidly. Her eyes were red now too. “We’re supposed to help you. That’s how it works.”
I backed up more, and Ma had to drop my hand.
“That’s not right. If I can help you, I will. You’ve done so much for me.”
“Junebug, I’m used to you keeping secrets from me. You came here last night with that gash on your forehead, bawling, and I didn’t ask questions. If you don’t want to tell me what’s going on, I’ll respect it. You’re worrying about tuition, but won’t tell me why. Fine. But I will not let you use the money your parents set aside for your college education –“
“I have to go.” I edged towards the kitchen door. “I’m sorry, Ma. I shouldn’t have come last night. I’m doing alright. Can you let me know next time you go to the doctor?”
Ma closed her eyes for a beat.
“Yes, Junebug. I will.”
I CHANGED INTO AN OLD pair of overalls and a gray t-shirt for the subway ride back to the dorm. The overalls were oversized, and I could curl up in them in the subway car with my messenger bag squeezed between my knees and my stomach. It was early morning, and the car was packed with commuters. I nestled into my seat.
If I had no money, I’d figure out how to pay for college without my grandparents’ help. I could get a job. I could start a side gig fixing students’ broken phones and computers if I wanted. I could take out student loans. But it wouldn’t be enough to help pay for medical bills.
Smith said I was like him. He said that if things got really tough, I’d use my technology and my skills to my advantage. I would rig the system in my favor. When he said it, I was so sure he was wrong. But maybe he’s right, I thought.
Without money, my grandparents would go into debt. The only way I could help them was by getting that money back. Maybe a little extra for a safety net. No seventeen year old with a part time job, a full time college schedule, and an off-the-record vigilante identity to maintain at all hours of the day could pay neurologist bills.
No one would blame me for doing this.
I got off at the station closest to my class. Before I went into the building, I found a bench and took out my tablet.
It wasn’t hard. This was the kind of thing I did for fun; I liked to ensure my hacking skills were impeccable. In case I needed to break into a heavily secured system like a bank.
I typed the code quickly; it only took a few minutes. The account looked the same as last night: $0.00. But with a little shuffling around of information and a back door someone had all but left open for my little program, the money returned. Nothing extra, I thought. Exactly what it was before. Tuition and bills. The bank won’t even notice I took it.
I pushed my tablet towards the bottom of my bag as if it was dirty. I didn’t want to touch it anymore. My head throbbed as I walked to class. I watched two people die in the last two days, and I couldn’t stop it. Now I’d stolen thousands of dollars out of a bank for my own personal benefit, breaking rule 4-A of June’s Rules for Time Travel. June doesn’t use what she knows for her personal or financial gain. I burned with guilt as I headed towards class.
I walked in a few minutes late. One group had already started their presentations; I had forgotten about those. Lacey waved her hand discretely from the other corner of the room, and I went to sit with her and our teammates.
“Where’ve you been?” one of the other students hissed. “You didn’t practice with us yesterday. You have no idea what we planned.”
“Could have used your help,” the other student said obnoxiously. “You had all the data. We had to recreate everything from scratch.”
Lacey looked crestfallen. The list of people I let down was growing. Lacey hadn’t asked for much, and I blew it.
“I’m sorry, Lacey!” I whispered. “I couldn’t come to class because of the concussion. I should have called you. I didn’t think about the files. Maybe I shouldn’t have come today.” I shook my head to see if I could clear out the guilt, but nothing changed.
“Stay to the side and don’t say anything,” Lacey whispered back. “We’ll be fine.” I tried to apologize again but she looked away.
Chapter 8
After a humiliating presentation where I stood to the side and contributed nothing, I walked back to the dorm. Only Marlene, our fourth suitemate, was around.
“You look awful.” She didn’t possess an ounce of tact.
I groaned and headed into my bedroom. I couldn’t touch my bag; the tablet was in there. The tablet I used to steal a huge sum of money from the bank because I had failed at my job. I covered my face with a pillow and let myself fall in and out of sleep. The mini concussion was a nice excuse.
“Hey, you’re back!” Honey cried as she entered the room. “You ok? You said you hurt your head.”
I lifted up the pillow, and Honey winced when she saw the stitches.
“It’s not bad,” I reassured her. “I won’t need them very long.”
Honey hopped up on my bed next to me, and I scooted aside to make room.
“I heard that guy Harrison has been around a lot in the last few days.” She shut her lips tightly, clearly holding back a laugh. “I’ve been wondering what happened to him. You saw him that one time and then he disappeared for weeks, right?”
I groaned and covered my face again.
“His roommate has a crush on you.” I felt the bed shake when Honey laughed in response.
“Anton? I guess so. I told you about him last week, right?” The laughing stopped. “I heard him talking to some other guy. He thinks I’m hot. They called me ‘that hot chick.’ It’s obnoxious.”
I threw the pillow at her and sat up. “He’s an idiot. What an asshole. You got into CUT. You’re more than a pretty face.”
“Yeah, I’m also curvy, right?”
“Oh, please! I don’t even think you’re particularly good looking,” I teased.
“Well what does Harrison say about you? I bet he actually talks to you, instead of just ogling.”
I considered this. Harrison noticed that I onl
y ever wore my mother’s necklace. He helped me solve a mystery without insisting I give him the details I didn’t want him to have. He walked me to the Emergency Room and stayed with me until I was back at Ridge’s house. He kept helping me even after he found out I erased a whole day from his memory.
“Yeah, he’s not like that...He doesn’t ogle. He’s a decent guy. But it’s not like that between us.”
“Oh sure. Definitely not.” Honey smirked.
We sat together on the bed and I realized how lucky I was to have Honey as my roommate. When I told her I was making jewelry, she didn’t bug me to tell the truth. When I was late, or ditched plans, or let down Lacey, she called me out on it. She expected me to be a better person, but respected my secrets. I never had a friend like that in high school. I suppose I was too busy for that.
“Oh! You also missed U Before I again.”
U Before I was the dumbest, most inane reality show I could imagine existing in the entire world. Somehow they combined all the trashiest tropes of the genre with volunteering and fundraising for needy organizations. Last week they all drank too much and a girl got kicked out for hitting someone else. The next day they served food at a soup kitchen.
“Oh no!” We hated the show, but we couldn’t stop watching. “Was this week the elimination round?”
Honey nodded and laughed at my sudden burst of energy. “Yup. It was a margarita elimination round. The bartender served drinks to everyone one by one until the last person was sent home.”
My eyes opened wide. “No!”
“Yes. It was so stupid. The bartender gave everyone a drink, and then when Stacey was left without one, he actually said, listen to this: ‘Stacey, you put I before U.’ That was her cue to go home.”
“What else happened?”
“They all gave speeches to the camera about who they were voting out. Like someone said how Stacey is flirting with too many guys. Or someone said Dustin should go home because he pretended to be sick instead of going to the soup kitchen. But the best was Johnny – do you remember him? Big guy, huge muscles?” I nodded. Everyone on the show fit a very narrow character trope.