I know I’m looking at Sela like she’s sprouted a second head. I want to ask her what she thinks she’s doing, asking a guy we don’t even know to go to a party with us. It’s insane, even if he is cute.
Apparently Bridger doesn’t think so. He hesitates for a moment, then says, “Sure, why not?”
20
BRIDGER
APRIL 12, 2013
After Grace deposits me in my room, I collapse on the bed. The fact that I’m an idiot keeps racing through my mind. It’s like I’m trying to see how many stupid things I can do today. Travel illegally to the past? Check. Shoot my professor and a high-ranking DTA official? Check. Agree to socialize with some ghosts? Check.
Everything would be fine if I could shift to moments before I arrived back in 2146. I could warn myself to get out of there before the Space Bender could catch me. I wouldn’t be a prime candidate for nulling right now. But you’re not supposed to change what’s already happened.
This is why I’m having such a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that Dad wanted to prevent Alora’s death. How it that possible without destroying the timeline?
I throw my hand over my eyes. My head could burst into flames and I’m sure I wouldn’t feel any worse.
Then I remember something Alora said when I was dealing with that psycho couple. She told them she met me a few days ago. My hands fist, and I slam them against the blue comforter.
I’m still three months away from Alora’s death date.
So basically I’m stuck here because I can’t risk shifting back to my own time. General Anderson must be wilding out right now. He’ll have the search parameters extended to encompass way outside of Willow Creek. And if I’m caught, he’ll make damn sure I won’t escape again. Not even with Professor March’s help. And why did he help me escape? Nothing makes sense anymore.
I stare up at the ceiling, trying to come up with a way to get closer to Alora’s death date. But of course I can’t. Not without a Chronoband.
I blink back at the heaviness clouding my thoughts. I don’t know how long I’ve been awake. It feels like forever. Time travel requires tons of energy, and I’ve already shifted three times today. I roll off the bed and strip to my Skivvies. The sour tang of sweat is even worse now that I’m undressed. I think about taking a shower, but it can wait. Instead, I fall back on the bed and close my eyes.
It’s not like I’m going anywhere soon.
A loud rapping at the door jolts me awake. I blink several times, taking in the antique furniture. And then I groan.
Before I can say anything, the door opens and Alora peeks in. “Hey, Aunt Grace wants . . .” She stops when she notices I’m stretched out across the bed in my Skivvies. Her eyes seem to double in size. “I’m so sorry!”
She jerks the door shut.
“Alora, wait a minute,” I say as I scramble off the bed. I grab my pants and pull them on as I half hop, half walk to the door.
In the hallway, Alora is leaning against the wall, taking deep breaths. Her hair is pressed behind her, but one strand is stuck against her cheek. My fingers itch to reach over and brush it away. Something I would’ve done with Vika.
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have barged in like that,” she says.
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. Aunt Grace would have a fit if she knew I . . .” Alora trails off as she glances at me. She focuses on my bare chest for a second before looking down.
I feel sorry for Alora. If possible, her face is even redder than it was when she first saw me on the bed. So what if she saw me undressed? She’s acting like she’s never seen a guy in his Skivvies.
Before I can stop myself, I reach out to lift her chin. “Hey, it’s not a big deal.”
I start to tell her something else, but all thought evaporates when she fixates on me with those blue eyes. It’s almost like I’m shifting through time. I can’t breathe. I don’t know what I’m feeling, but it’s not good. I shake my head and drop my hand.
Alora takes a quick step back. “I’ve got to go. Aunt Grace almost has supper ready.”
I don’t know why, but I feel empty as Alora turns to walk away, then I remember she wanted something. “Hey, what did you want to ask me?”
“Oh, yeah.” Alora pivots around and runs her hand across her forehead. “I forgot. Aunt Grace wanted to know if you’d like to join us for supper.”
“I thought I’d have to eat somewhere else,” I say. Am I wrong? These old-style bed-and-breakfast-type places only served food in the morning.
“Usually you would, but Aunt Grace thought you’d like to eat with us tonight. But you don’t have to if you’ve got other plans.” She finishes the last sentence in a rush.
The uncomfortable feeling from moments before disappears. This is perfect. If I’m stuck here for three months, I might as well start trying to figure out why my dad wanted to save Alora from dying. “No, I’d like that. And if it’s okay, could I get you to show me around later?”
Alora bites her lower lip and glances past me. I turn to see what she’s looking at, but there are only more closed doors. “There’s something I need to do, but I guess I could show you around first.”
“Great. I can’t wait.”
Alora’s face glows as she smiles back. “I’ll see you downstairs.”
“Okay. I’ll be down as soon as I shower.”
I watch Alora walk away for a few moments before ducking back in my room. Weird, but I find myself feeling lighter and grinning.
I tell myself it’s because this is the first step toward finding the truth.
Not because I want to spend time with Alora.
“Are you sure you don’t want more?” Grace asks as I finish a huge slice of her strawberry cake.
I glance at the cake sitting on the kitchen counter before declining. I wouldn’t mind having another. But the entire time we were eating supper, Grace asked one question after another. And I had to lie. She’s definitely a nosy ghost.
Alora grabs our empty plates and sets them by the sink. “I’m going to show Bridger around for a little while before it gets too dark.”
“Oh really? And where are y’all going?” Grace asks.
“What’s up with all the questions?” Alora asks.
Grace’s gaze slides over to me. “It’s my responsibility to know what my niece is doing. Wouldn’t you agree, Bridger?”
I know that look. My mom does something similar when she’s in my business. The difference is that I can tell Grace is concerned for Alora’s safety, not because she’s a control freak. So I nod yes.
Grace’s face relaxes. “Well, then, you two go on. I’ll take cleaning duty.”
Alora doesn’t waste any time hurrying outside. I follow before Grace can think of something else to quiz me about. When we’re on the back porch, she says, “Sorry about all that.”
“Why?”
“Because of Aunt Grace. She likes to know everything.”
“Don’t worry about it. She’s just concerned. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Yeah,” Alora says with a shrug. “But she was starting to get on my nerves. I can imagine how you felt.”
“Well, she is letting me stay here for a while and she doesn’t know me,” I say, smiling.
“Oh, please.” Alora rolls her eyes. “That’s not it. We have strangers here all the time.” She then waves her hand around the general area of the backyard. “So, what would you like to see?”
I scan the yard. It looks the same and yet different from the museum setup in 2146. The grassy expanse stretching toward the forest is the same, with a dirt path bisecting it. But in this time there is a large garden full of brightly colored roses. There is also a small, paved area to the left of the porch where Grace and the other guests park their autos.
I remember the article on Dad’s DataDisk. Alora’s body is supposed to be found in an old, abandoned house on the property. I gesture toward a path parting the forest. “What’s that wa
y?”
Alora’s mouth presses to a thin line. “It leads to the river.”
“Can we go there?”
Alora focuses on the path for a few seconds, then says, “I suppose so.”
I watch her as she bounds down the steps, her hair bouncing over her shoulders. The late afternoon sun makes it shine like it’s lit from within, kind of sexy-like. I shake my head, disgusted. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
Alora doesn’t say anything once we’re on the path. She walks fast, like she doesn’t want to be here. I match her pace and check out the forest. Sun streaks through the trees, mixing dark with light. It gives the place a creepy atmosphere. I try to locate the abandoned house, but I don’t see it anywhere.
The silence is getting to me. “So, have you lived here your whole life?”
Her jaw tenses before she says, “No.”
“Okay then,” I say slowly. “So how long have you lived here?”
“Ten years. Why?”
“No particular reason. Just trying to get to know you better.”
“Right.” She folds her arms across her chest and speeds up. “The river’s just up ahead.”
Wondering why she seemed so evasive when I asked a simple question, I decide to leave it alone for now.
The sound of flowing water reaches us before we get to the river. Alora visibly relaxes the closer we get. When we emerge from the forest, she smiles. A genuine smile that makes my pulse speed up. I stop and close my eyes. This is ridiculous. I’ve got to be having this kind of reaction because of her resemblance to Vika. Still, that’s messed up.
Alora runs to a pier jutting out over the river. She sinks on the wooden planks and hugs her legs close to her body. I sit next to her, waiting for her to say something. Dad always told me if a girl doesn’t want to talk, pushing her won’t work.
“This is my favorite place to go,” Alora finally says. “It’s really peaceful out here.”
I nod. “I know what you mean.”
Alora looks at me. “Do you have somewhere you like to go back home?”
“Yes.” I think of the mountains. I remember all the times Dad used to take me and Shan camping. All the times I went with Zed and Elijah. If I hadn’t been so determined to find out what Dad wanted me to do, I’d be there right now. My throat tightens.
“I can tell you miss it.”
A sense of loss hits me. I hadn’t thought about it, being so obsessed with my dad, but that’s a part of my life I’ll never get back. I swallow past the lump in my throat and whisper, “Yeah, I do.”
A muffled sound shatters the moment. Alora reaches into her pocket and withdraws her phone. She peers at the screen and lets out a little yelp. “I’ve got to take this. I’ll be right back.”
She strides off the pier and walks in a crazy pattern, going in one direction and then another. She finally stops near the woods. Her words drift back to me, soft, yet urgent.
While Alora talks, I try to figure out what’s wrong with her. Obviously, she’s not comfortable talking about her past. It has to be the key to why Dad wanted to save her. But what could be so important? I’ve got to somehow draw the info out of her.
But how without sounding like a nosy creeper?
Alora ends the call and walks back to the pier. Maybe I can get something out of her now. I scratch the back of my neck and try to act bored. “Important call?” I ask all smooth-like.
“I thought it was,” she says in a quiet voice.
“Anything you want to share?” I hope I’m not pushing it with that line.
She grows serious, narrowing her eyes at me. “Why do you care?”
Think, Bridger. Dig yourself out of this before she clams up completely. “You seemed a little stressed earlier. And then you were all excited about that call, but now you seem kind of sad again. I’m concerned, that’s all.”
Her expression softens. “I’m sorry. I’ve just had a lot on my mind lately.”
“I know what you mean.”
I leave it at that and hope like hell that Alora will decide to trust me. She just looks at me, then back at the river. My mind screams for me to do something.
Finally, she sighs. “I can’t believe I’m going to do this, but I need to tell somebody.” She takes a deep breath. “That was a guy named John Miller, but not the one I’m looking for. I’ve been trying to contact the one who was my father’s friend. I’ve searched a lot of phone numbers belonging to guys with that name, and I’ve been calling them, trying to figure out which one is the right number.” Alora looks down at her phone like it’s the most important thing in the world. “I’m still looking.”
“Why do you need to talk to him?”
Alora seems unsure if she wants to continue.
“It’s okay,” I say. “If you don’t want to tell me, I get it.”
She closes her eyes for a moment, and then looks up at the sky. “My dad left me with Aunt Grace when I was six, and I don’t know why. I can’t remember much of anything before that. Hell, I don’t even know if my parents are still alive.”
“Why did he do that?”
“I don’t know, and Aunt Grace won’t tell me. She says he never told her, but I think she’s lying.”
“Why would she lie to you?”
“She thinks the truth could damage me,” Alora says with a scowl.
My mind reels. Alora is having a hard time remembering anything from her childhood. And my father wanted to save her. Somehow I think the two are tied together. I wonder if it’s possible that someone used a Mind Redeemer on her. Or maybe it’s just because she was so young.
“So, that’s why I’m looking for answers on my own.” Alora stops and lets out a heavy sigh. “You have no idea what it’s like, going every day not being able to remember my own parents. I mean, I knew them once, but in a way it’s like I never did. And I kind of feel cheated, you know?” Her eyes fill with tears.
Fure, I’m in uncharted territory here. I have no clue how to deal with an emotional female. “Um, well, you could . . .” I begin, but something over Alora’s shoulder catches my attention.
Just inside the tree line, the air in one spot is rippling. Like the air over a flame. I blink, thinking it’s just my imagination. But the ripple is still there each time I open my eyes.
It’s a cloaked person in the forest. And since that technology doesn’t exist in this time, it has to be a Time Bender.
I spring to my feet and run toward whomever it is.
“What’s the matter?” Alora asks.
I don’t respond. What can I say? Oh, it’s nothing, just an invisible time traveler watching us. Someone who could be reporting my location back to the DTA right now.
I get to the tree line, but whoever was there moments before is gone. I turn around, my head snapping from side to side. I don’t see anything. What I’d give for a comm-set right now.
Alora comes up by me, her face pale. “Did you see someone?”
Even though I’m worried about who was spying on us, I can’t help but notice how shaken she is. “I thought I did, but it’s nothing.”
“Are you sure?” She’s peering into the forest, as if she expects someone to pop out at any moment.
I place a hand on her shoulder. Weird, but I feel all protective. “I’m positive. I guess my mind was playing tricks on me.”
Alora’s muscles relax under my fingers. “Oh, okay.” She offers a thin smile. “You know, I need to get back to the house. I’ve got some things I need to do.”
“That’s probably a good idea.”
We talk as we make our way back through the forest. Alora still seems on edge. I try to keep her mind off whatever scared her back there. I can’t help but feel that something else happened to Alora recently in the forest. Something she doesn’t want to tell me.
I don’t know what that could be, but I do know one thing. From now on, I’m staying close to Alora. I’ll try to figure out why her parents apparently abandoned her.
21
ALORA
APRIL 13, 2013
Sela turns in the long, paved driveway leading up to Levi’s house. The closer we get, the harder my heart hammers and the more I wish I’d stayed home. What if Trevor tries to start something? I rub my arm where he grabbed me a few days ago. There’s a small bruise on it.
Cars and trucks line the driveway. Sela parks and pulls her phone out of her purse. Her fingers fly over the screen.
“Who are you texting?” I ask
“Jess.”
Oh, yes. We can’t forget about the Brainless Twins.
After a moment, the phone chirps and Sela reads the message. “Jess says she and Miranda are waiting by the front door.”
“Great,” I mutter. As I climb out of the car, the hem of my dress rides up and two guys passing by notice. One leers at me. I tug it back down, wishing I had on a pair of jeans. I feel too slutty in this thing.
“Do I look okay?” Sela asks, coming up next to me. She smoothes the bottom of her dress and rearranges the top, making sure her cleavage is showing. She’s blessed up there. Sela may have lost a lot of weight, but the boobs stayed.
“You’re gorgeous.” I try to grin, but I’m sure it looks more like a grimace. All I can focus on is Levi’s house and the muffled music drifting from within. A few people are standing around outside, talking and laughing. I wonder where Trevor is.
Bridger climbs out of the back seat and joins us. “So, ladies, are you ready?”
No. And I swear, from the expression on his face, he’s not either.
“Oh, yes,” Sela says, grabbing Bridger’s hand and mine. “Come on, you two. I’m ready to dance!”
My feet move forward, but my mind screams for me to stay at the car. I don’t know if I can do this.
“It’s okay. I’m here with you,” Bridger whispers, his warm breath tickling my ear.
“Thanks.” Funny, but it makes me feel a tiny bit better. I may not know Bridger very well, but I’d rather be with him than most anyone else here.
The Brainless Twins practically assault Sela when they see us. They hug her and gush about how much fun they’re having. Of course, they ignore me, but flash dazzling, plastic smiles at Bridger.
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