All That and a Bag of Chips

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All That and a Bag of Chips Page 3

by Amber Garza


  “Whoa.” Nick turned swiftly, his arms coming up around my sides. “Careful.” I fell against him, my fingers grappling with his shirt. His eyebrows furrowed, his lips curling downward. “Is it your ankle? Did you sprain it again?”

  “Again?” I bit my lip. “I sprained it before?”

  “Ha!” He burst out. “Good one.”

  Clearly, that was a yes. There were so many things I didn’t know about my own life.

  His arms wrapped around me, holding me tight. My body slid against his. I held my breath, my pulse skittering beneath my flesh. His gaze locked with mine. “If you sprained it, I’ll nurse you back to health like I did last time.” Last time he nursed me back to health? My mouth dried out. I swallowed hard. Man, I wished I hadn’t missed that. His fingers played with my spine. A chill brushed up my back. His gaze lowered down toward my leg. “Want me to take a look?”

  Uhh…let me think about that. Hell yes!

  But my feet were all sweaty. Probably smelled too. And there nothing was wrong with my ankle. I was out of shape, that was all. “My ankle’s fine,” I answered once I could finally get my brain and mouth working in sync. “I’m just tired.”

  “I knew you weren’t feeling well.” He lightly pressed his hand to my forehead, and I melted into his touch. Thank god I didn’t have him check my ankle. This was so much better.

  His lips were so close to mine, I could feel the heat of his breath on my skin. It took all my willpower not to lean forward and kiss him. I wanted to badly.

  “You’re not warm,” he said. “But you should get home anyway. Get some rest.”

  When he drew back, I went cold. How hard would it have been to lean forward and press my lips to his? Why didn’t I take the opportunity when I had it? Who knew if I’d get the chance again. This might have been nothing more than a dream. And even if it wasn’t, this nineties version of me was a fake.

  A fraud.

  An imposter.

  What would happen when Nick figured that out?

  FOUR

  “What are you watching, Pres?” It was getting dark outside. Mom was in the kitchen making dinner, and Preston had plunked down on the couch watching TV for hours. Usually he’d be playing Xbox or games on his IPad.

  Glancing back at me, he raised his brows as if he couldn’t believe I was asking. Was this a show I often watched too? Plopping down beside him, I smiled. Actually, I did know what this was.

  “Oh, my gosh. This is Full House, right? Man, they’re so young here,” I said.

  “What?” Preston’s forehead knit together.

  I clamped my mouth shut. I really needed to keep my comments about the future to myself. “Nothing,” I mumbled.

  Mom walked in the room. “Dinner will be ready soon. I’m dieting again, so I’m sticking to one of my microwaved meals. I’m making you guys some pasta though.”

  Microwaved meals? Mom didn’t eat processed food. She was all about the plant-based organic whole foods. “Is that healthy?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled. “They’re only like three or four hundred calories. It’s awesome.”

  The 2018 version of my mom would be so grossed out right now. But it’s whatever. With the amount of junk food I’d consumed over the years at Ava’s house, I had no right to judge.

  My heart pinched at the thought of Ava. I missed her. It had only been a day, but it was weird not talking to her. We texted and snapchatted all the time.

  I glanced at the old-fashioned clock on the wall. “Hey, when are we facetiming Dad?” It was odd for him not to have called by now.

  “Facetiming?” Mom scrunched up her nose. “I really need to get up with the new teen lingo.”

  My face warmed. “Oh, yeah. I…just meant…when is he going to call?”

  Mom shrugged. “He probably won’t. He’s been having trouble getting through this week.”

  Heart sinking, I bit my lip. “So, we might not hear from him at all?”

  “You act like that’s uncommon.” Mom laughed bitterly, her tone throwing me.

  I felt slightly ill. “How often do we talk to him?”

  Mom’s face scrunched up into a funny expression. “You’ve been acting so strange today. I think Nick is right. You might be sick.”

  I was tired of everyone saying that. I wasn’t sick. I was trying to wrap my brain around this new timeperiod.

  “I’m fine.” I ran a hand down my face. “It’s just been a long day.”

  Mom placed a hand on my shoulder. “Well, I’ll get dinner on the table and then you can go lie down and listen to music or read a book or something.”

  Funny, that was the first thing anyone had said today that sounded normal. Those were things I would’ve done in 2018 too.

  A few minutes later, we were all seated around the dining table, Preston and me with our pasta and Mom with her microwaved diet dinner. After watching my mom eat a diet consisting of raw veggies, quinoa, brown rice and tofu for years, this was very strange.

  “How was your step class?” I asked after swallowing down a mouthful of pasta. I’d been relieved when I came home from school and found Mom in jeans and a t-shirt.

  “Good.” Mom smiled. “Kelly and I had fun.”

  Thank god their relationship was still solid.

  “How was school?” Mom asked me.

  “Fine.” Weird. Different. Sort of awful, but also sort of awesome.

  “Cheer practice?”

  “Same.” I shoved another forkful of food into my mouth, hoping to stop this line of questioning. I wasn’t even sure how I was supposed to answer. How did “nineties Remy” respond? I hadn’t figured that out yet.

  “What about you, Pres? How was school?” I sighed with relief when Mom moved on from me.

  “Good.” He wiped pasta sauce from his face with the back of his hand.

  I’d seen him do the same thing at dinner last night. It bothered me then. Now I found it comforting.

  After dinner, Mom poured herself a glass of wine and sat on the couch with the remote. I headed into my room. Glancing in the corner where my computer desk used to sit, I sighed. What was there to do in 1993? I couldn’t watch a YouTube video or scroll through vines or memes. There weren’t a million Snapchat stories or pictures on Instagram to check out. Sinking down onto my bed, I wished for the millionth time that I could text Ava. I wanted to tell her everything about Nick. How he touched my face and held me. How he seemed so concerned about me not feeling well. It was like a dream. Like an incredibly epic dream.

  But there was no one to tell. My heart sagged.

  Talking with Ava and my dad were constants. It was something I could count on every night. I wasn’t sure what to do without them.

  Reaching out, I touched the Discman that sat on my nightstand. If it was my wish that brought me here, could a wish take me back?

  My phone rang, scaring the crap out of me. Man, that was loud. My cell was much quieter.

  Heart beating erratically, I picked it up.

  “Hello?” I breathed deep to slow down my racing pulse.

  “Hey, Rem.” It was Brooke. Calling me. Voluntarily. Talk about weird. “Are you alone?”

  I glanced around. “Uh…yep.”

  “I just didn’t want to interrupt anything between you and Nick. Seemed like things were getting pretty hot and heavy after cheer practice.”

  My face heated up, remembering the way Nick held me. The way his fingers felt against my back. “Yeah, they were.”

  “Oh, my gosh. Tell me everything.” Brooke squealed.

  I bit my lip. “Well…there’s nothing really to tell, I guess. Nothing happened. We sorta had a connection. I honestly thought he might kiss me, but then he pulled back because he thinks I’m sick.” Frowning, I was surprised at how easily I shared all this with Brooke. It was the kind of thing I usually would only tell Ava. But Ava wasn’t here. We weren’t even friends. And it appeared that Brooke and I were.

  “I don’t blame him. You do seem sick or something,” s
he said. “But I told you he liked you. Now do you believe me?”

  My insides quivered. Nick liked me? It seemed too good to be true. But he kind of acted like he did. “Maybe,” I finally answered.

  “Not maybe,” she mimicked the way I said ‘maybe,’ and for a second was an ugly reminder of the Brooke I’d always known. But then she added, “Trust me. That boy is sprung on you, and he is fiiiine.”

  I laughed, my heart flipping in my chest. “Totally.”

  Only a few minutes after hanging up with Brooke, my phone rang again. This time it was Nick.

  “How’re you feeling?” he asked immediately after I answered.

  He called to check on me? How sweet is that? I swallowed hard. “Good.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah.” Seriously, I was the worst conversationalist in the world. “At least I think I will be by tomorrow. Just gonna get to bed early.” Ugh. Super lame.

  “All right. Well, I’ll let you go then.”

  “Okay.” Disappointment sank into my gut. Why had I said I was going to bed early? No wonder he’d never given me the time of day before.

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, his voice all smooth and low. “Sweet dreams.”

  My mouth dried out. I could barely formulate a response. Oh, I’d have sweet dreams. I was sure of that. And I knew that he’d star in every single one of them.

  My lips were plastered into a smile when I hung up the phone. Lying back on my pillow I stared up at the ceiling. Nick was picking me up again tomorrow. My insides danced. Maybe it wasn’t so bad in 1993.

  Maybe I’d stay a little longer.

  FIVE

  This time I was ready when Nick picked me up. I even wore one of those floral dresses with a pair of Mary Janes and a black choker around my neck, so I’d fit in with everyone else. It still felt like I was playing a part in a play or heading to a costume party, but at least I wasn’t freaked out like yesterday. I wish I could say that I was cool with Mom’s aerobics outfit, but that still threw me a little. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get used to that.

  “Someone’s feeling better.” Nick smiled, his gaze traveling up and down my body after I opened the door.

  My insides went all gooey. “Yeah, I am.” I really, really am.

  “Here’s the paper again.” He held it out.

  “Thanks.” When I folded my hands around it, our fingers brushed. I conjured up the feel of his arms around me, wishing desperately for that to happen again.

  My legs were still sore from yesterday’s practice. I could barely get out of bed this morning. So, I suppose I could end up falling again. I had to fight against the urge to do it right now. It would be so easy.

  I’d land right in his arms….

  “Remy?” He was staring at me funny.

  Oh, man, I was doing it again. Getting lost in my thoughts. Acting crazy.

  I cleared my throat. “Sorry. I was thinking.”

  “About?” His eyes met mine.

  My knees softened. About you holding me; touching me. “Um…I um…” My body warmed. “…thought I forgot my math book, but I’m pretty sure I have it.”

  After tossing the paper inside, I closed the front door and trailed after Nick. It was weird getting used to all the changes. But the one thing that hadn’t changed was Nick’s car. For years, I’d seen him outside tinkering with this vintage mustang.

  I’d never been in it before. Not until yesterday.

  As I slid into the car, he closed the passenger door firmly behind me. While he made his way around the car, it gave me a minute to catch my breath and calm my nerves. I still wasn’t used to being this close to him or riding in his car. It was surreal.

  When he plunked down onto the driver’s side, I caught a whiff of his scent – a mixture of soap and leather – and it made my head spin. Gripping the door handle, I fought to keep myself upright and steady as he pulled away from the curb.

  A song started playing on the radio, and my pulse kickstarted. “I know this song.” Mom and Aunt Kelly were playing it that day in the living room. The day that Ian cheated on me. The day before I ended up here.

  Glancing over at me, Nick’s lips curl upward into an amused smile. “Really? I hadn’t noticed,” he said in a sarcastic tone. Reaching out, he turned the volume up. “You’re the only person in the world who could get me to listen to Wilson Phillips.” He winked, and my belly quivered. “But I know better than to play my Guns n Roses when you’re in the car.”

  I giggled. One more thing that hadn’t changed about me. Rock music had never really been my jam. I was a pop and R & B girl. If only I could remember all the other times we’d been in this car together. Then a thought struck, fast and shocking, like a lightning strike.

  What if something romantic had happened between us?

  What if we had already kissed, and I literally had no memory of it?

  “You okay?” Nick’s eyebrows knit together.

  Geez, I must have been making a weird face as I was having an internal panic attack. Smiling, I nodded.

  “Guess you did end up having sweet dreams, huh?”

  I froze. How did he know that I dreamt about him? “What?”

  “You seem all right today. Must’ve gotten enough sleep.”

  “Oh. Yeah.” I blew out a breath and stared out the window. Pull it together, Rem.

  “And your ankle looks fine, so I guess you really didn’t sprain it this time.”

  “Thank god.” I couldn’t even imagine how humiliating it would’ve been to sprain my ankle at my first cheer practice. At least the first one I remembered anyway.

  “I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Wasn’t so bad last time, was it?”

  My mouth dried out. I seriously needed a cheat sheet. A list of dates with their correlating memories. Like cliff notes, but for my life.

  “I guess not,” I answered coyly, fluttering my lashes.

  His lips shifted slightly downward.

  Wrong answer? Too flirty? Bad use of my eyelashes? I sucked at this.

  “You guess not?” He said. “If it weren’t for your sprained ankle, you and I might not have started hanging out.”

  “Oh, c’mon. You really think we wouldn’t have hung out?” I fished for answers. “We’ve lived next door to each other for years.”

  He grinned in a way that made my entire body hum. “I guess you’re right. Eventually, I would’ve found a different excuse.”

  He’d been looking for an excuse? I always thought it was the other way around.

  After parking in the school lot and getting out of the car, I spotted Ian and a bunch of guys walking toward us. The image of him all over Melissa filled my mind. Anger surfaced.

  “Ian. Ugh,” I muttered under my breath. When he glanced up at me, I involuntarily moved toward Nick. Our arms connected. Ian didn’t seem to notice. He walked by as if I was invisible. Did we not even know each other?

  “What?” Nick’s eyebrows furrowed.

  “Nothing.” I relaxed, feeling silly. In 1993, Ian hadn’t cheated on me. We hadn’t even been together.

  “Wait.” Nick’s eyes narrowed. “Is something going on with you and that guy? Ian?”

  Ian and Nick had never been friends. I was relieved they weren’t in this lifetime either.

  “No.” I shook my head vehemently.

  “Then what was that about?”

  “Um…I don’t know. He just creeps me out, I guess.”

  His expression changed from curiosity to concern. “Has he done something?”

  For a brief moment, I contemplated saying yes. Nick probably would’ve kicked his ass if I had. But what would have been the point? The 1993 Ian hadn’t done anything to me. As much as I hated to admit it, right now Ian was innocent.

  If only my head and my heart could’ve been in sync.

  It sucked. The things I did want to remember – like everything that had happened between Nick and me up until this point – I couldn’t. But the memory of Ian slobbering
all over a girl who wasn’t me – that played on a loop in my mind over and over again.

  Ugh.

  “No. It’s the vibe he gives off.” The cheating, lying bastard vibe.

  “Really?” Nick cocked an eyebrow and moved a little closer. “What vibe am I giving off?”

  A sexy vibe. I swallowed hard. My head spun.

  He laughed abruptly and stepped back. “I’m messin’ with you.”

  Thank god I didn’t answer.

  His gaze bounced over my shoulder. “Oh. There are the guys.” He glanced back at me. “See ya at lunch?”

  “Of course.” As if he even had to ask? Would there ever be a universe where I wouldn’t want to eat lunch with Nick? I didn’t think so. “See ya then.” I stared at his backside as he swaggered off.

  “Hey, Remy.” Brooke walked toward me, wearing a friendly smile. My stomach churned a little. I still didn’t fully trust her.

  “Hey.” I attempted to seem nonchalant and prayed she didn’t notice me checking out Nick’s butt.

  She nodded toward him. “How were things this morning with you two?”

  I shrugged. “Fine.”

  “Seriously? When’s he going to make his move already? He usually doesn’t wait this long.” She tossed a strand of hair over her shoulder.

  Was she speaking from personal experience?

  I opened my mouth to ask her when Melody and Katie ran over.

  “There you guys are,” Melody said, breathless.

  “We’ve been looking everywhere,” Katie added.

  I glanced over at Brooke. She wore that same friendly smile, but there was something in her eyes that made my insides twist. A flash of the girl I’d known for years. Maybe 1993 Brooke wasn’t that different after all.

  ***

  I went to the wrong place at lunch. It was like my body had its own GPS. I ended up in the quad at the spot where I’d been eating lunch for the past three years. Ava was there with her group of friends. She wore ripped jeans and a black t-shirt again. Her makeup was dark and severe to match her expression.

 

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