Chapter 16
Cassandra
My cell phone rings just after noon. I’m still in bed. Not asleep. I’m lying under the covers with my eyes closed because they’re sore from crying. It’s been a day and a half since I last saw Lawrence. Not even two days since I told him, and yet it feels like two years.
So when the ringtone blasts into the silence of my room, I spring out of bed, hoping it’s him. Then I remember that it couldn’t possibly be him and my heart sinks. It’s Jade. I consider letting the call go to voice mail, but at the last second I answer.
“Hi, Jade.”
“Hey there,” she says. “You haven’t sent me ten texts a day lately. So I figure you’re either finally having a good time or you’ve died in some tragic accident.”
Funny she should mention tragic deaths…
“Please tell me you found yourself some New England hottie to pass the time.”
“Ha,” I say bitterly.
“Come on, Cass. You’re telling me you can’t find one acceptable member of the male species out there?”
“I’m not telling you that.”
“So you found a guy then?”
I flop back on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
Jade interprets my silence. “Oh my gosh,” she gasps. “You did, didn’t you? You totally got yourself a boyfriend!”
“I wouldn’t call him a boyfriend exactly.”
“Cass! This is fabulous!” She sighs. “Summer love. C’est magnifique!”
Her joy only twists the knife in my gut.
“Tell me everything,” Jade says. “I want every minute detail.”
I wish I could tell her. But there’s no point in trying to explain how I’m falling for a guy from 1925. Still, I ache to share this grief with someone.
“He’s amazing,” I say.
Jade gives a happy little squeal. I close my eyes and picture Lawrence. “Trust me when I say you’ve never met anyone like him. He’s smart, deep…different.”
“And hot? Is he hot?”
“Very.”
“I’m stunned. Seriously. I’m so happy for you, Cass.”
“Well, don’t be. It’s all over now.”
“What?”
I turn over on the bed. Through the closed curtains of my window, I can see a single line of sunlight. The same sun shining on the beach. The same sun shining on 1925 and Lawrence.
“We broke up.”
“Why?”
“Because. It’s complicated. Trust me.”
Jade sounds outraged. “You have to tell me. What guy in his right mind would break up with you?”
“He didn’t. Not really. It wasn’t like that.”
“Well, what was it like?”
I search for the words to most closely convey the situation. “He’s…leaving in nine days. And I’ll never be able to see him again. Or talk to him.”
“Why? Is he going to Mars or something? Good grief, Cass, I’m sure he’ll have a cell phone.”
“He just won’t, okay? It’s not his fault. That’s just the way it is. We decided we might as well cut it off now. Before anyone gets hurt.”
Jade is quiet for a moment. Then I hear her scoff in the angry way she does when faced with social injustices.
“That’s ridiculous, Cass. And you know it.”
I flop my face on the pillow. It’s pointless to try to explain this to her.
“If you guys care about each other, you fight for it,” she says. “I don’t know what these insurmountable reasons are for you never being able to see each other again, but A, it’s not for nine days, so why aren’t you enjoying every last second together? And B, since when are you the type to give up?”
“There are some things you just can’t fight, okay?”
Jade scoffs. “The Cass I know wouldn’t let anything stop her if she’d found real love.”
Her words needle right into my heart. I squeeze back the tears.
“I have to go. My mom’s calling me.”
There’s a silence. Knowing Jade, she’s probably forming some final, poignant line that will cut into my soul, and I just can’t handle that right now.
“I’ll call you later,” I say, and I press the button to hang up.
But the screen doesn’t go blank. Frowning, I look down. Another call has come through right as I ended with Jade, and I’ve answered it. I put the phone up to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Cass.”
It’s Brandon. How perfect.
“Oh…hi, Brandon.”
“Just calling to remind you about the lacrosse game. The other night at dinner, you said you’d come. I didn’t hear anything from you this week, so I wanted to make you sure you remembered.”
“Right. Um…about that—”
“It’s gonna be really awesome. My friend Sara’s going to save you a seat right up front. Then we’re grabbing dinner at Reed’s after.”
“It sounds great, but—”
“Then you’re coming?”
“Well…”
“I talked to your mom earlier. She’s cool with it. She said you’d mentioned it and wanted to go. I’ll pick you up at six, okay?”
I smack my hand on my forehead and drag it wearily down my face. This day just keeps getting better. Now Mom’s involved. She’ll carry me out to the car herself if I show any resistance.
“Okay,” I say, trying not to show my irritation. “Guess I’ll see you then.”
“Sweet.”
“Supersweet.”
Setting my jaw, I hang up the phone. Memo to me: Kill Mom when this date is over.
• • •
The lacrosse game ends up being just as dull and uncomfortable as I imagined. Sara’s a reasonably nice person, but we have nothing in common, so we sit through the entire game with nothing but the most basic, necessary words exchanged between us.
Dinner at Reed’s offers the first ray of sunshine in the form of a delightful cheeseburger and strawberry milk shake. My enjoyment is tainted, however, by two things. First, the entire conversation at dinner revolves around a heroic and detailed play-by-play of the game I just sat through. Needless to say, I have little to offer. The second problem is Brandon’s uncomfortable closeness. He’s practically glued to my side. I chalk it up to the tiny booths in the diner but fear that after we part ways with Jake and Sara, the behavior will only get worse.
Further proof of this comes when Brandon drives me back the “long way.” It’s a dark coastal road, barren of civilization. I’m onto his scheme.
“I should get back,” I say, checking my cell phone for the time.
“It’s only eleven,” Brandon says. “Besides, I want to show you this really pretty spot. It’s just up the road.”
After winding around a few more curves, we arrive at a sprawling pullout overlooking the ocean. The dotted lights of mansions sprinkle across an otherwise black landscape. To the right is the shimmer of the ocean. Fragments of the moon lie across the water like broken glass. Brandon puts his car in park.
I turn to him, one eyebrow raised. “Really?”
“What?” he asks, a twinge of nervousness in his voice.
“Taking me to Make-Out Point, huh?”
“No! It’s a great view, that’s all.”
I roll my eyes.
“I swear!” he insists.
“Okay, well, if you took me here to enjoy the view, let’s get out of the car. You can see better outside anyway.”
Brandon hesitates, but when I angrily fold my arms across my chest, he throws up his hands in surrender. “Fine. We’ll get out of the car.”
Slamming the door behind me, I march over to the stone wall. The sight of the ocean in the distance fills me with a flash of sharp joy, followed by familiar despair. I bet
it’s a beautiful night on the beach. What would Lawrence and I do tonight if we were together? A walk out to the point? A swim? Maybe a kiss? Even if we just sat together talking, it would be perfection.
My eyes slide closed. I think of Lawrence’s lips on mine. Why? Why does it have to be this way? Why can’t Lawrence be the one taking me up to the Make-Out Point?
“Nice night.” Brandon’s voice interrupts my sad thoughts. He comes up beside me, leaning against the wall.
“Yep.”
He taps his finger on the rough stone. “Are you pissed at me, Cass?”
It’s a flicker of the insecure, nervous Brandon from the Travis reality. I soften. “No,” I say. “I’m not. I’ve just had a crappy couple of days.”
“Is everything all right? You look…really sad.”
He doesn’t know the half of it. I shrug. “I’ll be okay.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Is it about your stepdad and your mom? It was really hard for me when my parents got divorced. I know how it goes.”
I nod. He might as well think that’s my problem, since I can’t very well say I’m mourning the loss of a boy I met from the 1920s who’s destined to die in a week.
Brandon puts his arm around my shoulders. “I’m here for you if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
He doesn’t move his arm. I give him a sidelong look. It seems rude to tell him to keep his paws off me when he’s being really nice. Besides, as lonely and down as I’ve been feeling the last few days, it’s kind of nice to be hugged.
Noticing my lack of resistance, Brandon goes in for a bit more. He brings his other arm around me and pulls me to him. The strong, sharp smell of his cologne reminds me of Lawrence, and a tendril of guilt tugs at me. I shouldn’t even be here with Brandon, let alone allow him to hold me.
But what difference does it make? I’m never going to see Lawrence again. No one will in a week. Am I never supposed to have another boyfriend out of loyalty to some guy I knew for a month in the summer?
Brandon’s hand slides up my back, cupping my neck. His lips brush against my forehead. My heart aches. Lawrence isn’t just some guy I know. He’s special. I can’t betray that. What I could have with Brandon would be easy, but it would never be real. What I have with Lawrence is real.
Jade’s words ring in my ears. The Cass I know wouldn’t let anything stop her if she’d found real love.
The realization settles upon me all at once. What Lawrence and I have…it’s real. It’s love. And Jade is right. That’s worth fighting for.
This doesn’t have to be the end. I don’t know why I didn’t see it this way all along. Just because the newspaper said he was murdered doesn’t mean I have to accept that. Lawrence is here now. He’s clearly not dead yet. We can fight this. We can make sure he lives.
With a start, I pull away from Brandon.
“Is everything okay?”
“I need to go home, Brandon.”
“Um…”
He looks hurt. I have to think fast. “I feel really queasy. Like…I think I’m going to puke.”
That backs him up quickly enough. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t—”
“It’s okay. I started to feel it in the restaurant, but I didn’t want to ruin things. It was really nice of you to take me out.” I head for the car. “You’d better get me home though.”
It’s possible that Brandon doesn’t buy my story completely, but either way, he gets into his car. I lie back in the seat and close my eyes to sell the sick routine.
We spend the drive back to my house in relative silence. As I play sick, my head spins with thoughts. Can Lawrence really fight this? Can I help? Can the two of us actually change the past? I’m itching to get to the beach and discuss the idea with him.
In the driveway, Brandon jams his car into park. I’m already out of my seat belt and opening the door. It takes everything in me not to run straight for the beach. I bend down to the open car window.
“Thanks for dinner,” I say to Brandon.
He gives me a strained smile, as if he’s pissed that the night got cut short, but he knows he can’t actually be mad at me for being sick. “Talk to you later?”
“Sure,” I say, already turning toward my house. “Bye!”
As I head in, I feel a twinge of guilt for lying and possibly hurting his feelings. But the fact is there are bigger things at stake.
Mom’s sitting with Frank on the couch. They’re both reading. When I come in, Mom looks up with a big smile.
“Hey, there! Did you have a good time?”
“Um, awesome,” I say with a forced smile. “Really great.”
Frank pats a place on the couch beside them. “Well, come on in and tell us about it, Cassie Pie.”
“Actually, I was thinking I’d go out for a little run.”
Mom cocks her head. “At this hour?”
“Yeah. I just need to clear my head. I would have gone earlier, but you seemed so excited for me to go on that date with Brandon.”
“I don’t feel good about it, Cass. It’s too dark and—”
“I’ll stay on our property,” I say, perhaps too enthusiastically. “That was what I was thinking anyway. I’ll run on the beach.”
Mom gives Frank a hesitant frown but then sighs in surrender. “Fine. On the property. Nowhere else.”
“Absolutely.”
To keep from being a complete liar, I run all the way to the beach. I probably would have run anyway, but there you have it. As I burst through the bushes, my heart feels crushed with the weight of a dozen conflicting emotions. I long to see Lawrence again, but I’m afraid of how he might react to me now, knowing what he knows. I’m filled with hope at the thought of fighting his fate, but I’m also filled with pulsing, radiating fear. This isn’t a small thing we’re going up against, fighting the course of history.
The sight of Lawrence will calm me. That’s what I need.
But the beach is empty.
I walk out to the water’s edge with a heavy heart. Part of me knew he wouldn’t be here. If I learned that I was going to be murdered on this beach, I’d stay far away from it for sure. I pick up a rock and toss it into the white-tipped waves. If I knew I was going to die, I think it would change a lot of the things I did. I can’t expect Lawrence to be any different.
Despair pushes against me, though I try to fight it off. Maybe I shouldn’t fight it. Maybe it’s smart to acknowledge that I might never see Lawrence again.
I turn back for the house after a while. In my mind, I can almost see the faint figure of Lawrence passing through the narrow path. My resolve strengthens. Seeing him again would be worth any amount of pain. I vow right then to return to the beach every day and night until I see him again. Fighting for Lawrence means not giving up on him. Not now, not ever.
Chapter 17
Cassandra
I return to the beach the next morning. It’s a hot day, with brilliant, white sunshine. I run all the way to the shore. And this time he’s there. Waiting for me.
At first, I think it must be a hallucination. He’s sitting on the sand in a white linen shirt. His hair looks messier than normal, but in a way so endearing and sexy that I want to bite my fist. When he turns, I know he’s real. He looks pale. Dark circles ring his eyes. This is someone who has come face-to-face with his own death. The sight of him, so vulnerable and alone, breaks down any semblance of control I had over the situation.
I run to him and he jumps to his feet to meet me halfway. We collide in a fierce embrace. For a long while, we do nothing but hold each other. Then, he takes my face in his hands and kisses me. The feel of his lips pressing against mine fills me with trembling heat. I hook my arms around his neck, squeezing my eyes shut and trying to ignore the pain that still sits on my heart. The only
thing that matters right now is this kiss.
Lawrence breaks away, winded and flushed. His eyes scan my face, taking in every detail, and then he presses his forehead to mine.
“I was hoping you’d come,” he says breathlessly.
My voice trembles. “I didn’t know if you’d be here.”
He holds me to him. “I’ve been waiting since before dawn.”
“You have?”
“I didn’t want to miss the chance to see you again.”
I exhale, pressing my face into his chest and wanting to crush my very being into his.
“I’ve decided something,” he says as he kisses my hair. “If I have to die, I’d be crazy not to spend as much time as possible with you.”
My heart beats strong and fast. Being close to him like this, everything feels so perfect, so right. “I’ve decided something too,” I say. “You’re not going to die.”
He steps back to meet my gaze.
“We’re going to fight this, Lawrence. There’s no reason we can’t fight it.”
His brows come together. “Fight it?”
“Yes,” I say firmly.
He sighs. “And how will we do that? I’m going to die, Cassandra. You read the newspaper.”
“But there’s time.”
“Yes, but if there were any way to stop it, you’d never have read about it in the first place. The fact that you saw that article means it will. There’s nothing we can do.”
I grip his shoulders. “I refuse to accept that.”
“Refuse all you like. That won’t change anything.”
I want to shake him. “Don’t be this way! We can beat it, Lawrence. You’re still here. Alive. Talking to me. It’s not over until it’s over.”
I grab his hands and lead him to our favorite spot on the beach. We sit side by side. He squeezes my fingers so tightly it almost hurts. He’s afraid. How can he not be? “Does it say?” he asks, not meeting my eyes.
“Does it say what?”
“Does the newspaper say how I die?”
The question punches me right in the gut. It’s almost as bad as telling him the first time. “Don’t make me…”
“I want to know.”
“I can’t.”
Until We Meet Again Page 12