Until We Meet Again

by Renee Collins

  “Do that.”

  Lawrence starts back to the house. As he passes Brandon, he bumps Brandon’s shoulder deliberately.

  I could kill him.

  Brandon’s eyes flash. Lawrence continues walking, and I hold up my hand, as if I could stop the impending explosion.

  “Brandon—”

  But he’s after Lawrence like the snap of the whip. I fly after them.

  “Brandon, wait!”

  In the thin alley of bushes, Brandon grabs hold of Lawrence’s shirt and spins him around.

  “You want to make this serious, bro?”

  Lawrence pushes Brandon’s arms away. “Take your paws off me.”

  “Stop!” I shout.

  They both ignore me. Brandon gives Lawrence a fierce shove. The bushes shake where he lands, causing a bird to flutter into the sky. I’ve never seen Lawrence look so angry. I grab him from behind.

  “Leave it,” I say. I press my face to his neck and add in a sharp whisper, “Think about where we are.”

  Lawrence gives me a tense glance, but then we both notice Brandon coming at us, eyes blazing. He throws a punch, and Lawrence darts out of the way, pushing me to the side to protect me. Brandon swings again, and this time when Lawrence dodges, he jumps back.

  Too far back. He begins to blur.

  Not realizing this, Lawrence retreats further. He blurs even more.

  “I’m not going to fight you,” he says, but his voice is muffled.

  Brandon freezes, and terror grips me.

  “Lawrence!”

  Only now does he realize what’s happening. His eyes widen. He makes a move toward the beach, but Brandon is blocking the way. Brandon advances, and Lawrence has no choice but to back up another step, becoming even more obscured by the shadows of time.

  “What the hell?” Brandon’s voice is soft with confusion and shock.

  I grab Brandon’s arm. “We have to go back to the beach.”

  He shrugs out of my grip, not taking his eyes off Lawrence.

  Lawrence looks to me. His expression is hard to make out, but I can tell that he’s as alarmed as I am. What can we do? What can we possibly say?

  Then, out of nowhere, Lawrence turns and runs, vanishing completely into 1925.

  This is bad. This is beyond bad.

  I grab Brandon, so that he faces me. He stares at me, waiting for me to explain what just happened. But no words come.

  Brandon steps through the bushes. When he reaches the backyard, he looks around. Looking for Lawrence. But Lawrence isn’t there. Brandon slowly raises a hand to his forehead. Then, after a moment, he speed walks for the house. I’m paralyzed with fear. This is exactly what I was afraid would happen. The worst-case scenario.

  I run after him. “Wait! Brandon!”

  He strides ahead without looking back. I run in front of him, trying to block his path.

  “I can explain.”

  He shakes his head, backing away from me like I’m a leper. “Don’t talk to me.”

  I follow him through the house and out the front door. As he gets in his car, I lean through the driver’s side window.

  “Brandon, please. It’s not what you think.”

  He looks me in the eye for the first time. He’s afraid. I can see it. I touch his hand, which grips the steering wheel, white-knuckled.

  “You need to give me a chance to explain,” I say.

  Brandon fumbles for his keys. His hand trembles as he turns it in the ignition.

  “I have to go.”

  The engine revs to a start.

  “Brandon.”

  Without another word, he pulls the car into gear and roars away. I jump back to avoid getting run over.

  • • •

  I call Brandon twelve times over the next three hours. I even track down his home number and ask his mom if I can speak to him. She goes to get him and then comes back on the line to awkwardly fumble over some line about Brandon being asleep. At four thirty in the afternoon. Hanging up the phone, I flop back onto my bed, unsure if I want to scream or cry.

  A menacing train of what-ifs roars through my brain. What if Brandon tells my mom about Lawrence and she prevents me from seeing him? What if that awful chance meeting sets off the butterfly effect again? But that’s not even the worst of it. What if somehow the bargain we’ve made with fate was contingent on secrecy? I could save Lawrence as long as no one knew we were messing with time. But now Brandon knows. Maybe the deal is off. Maybe I’ll walk back to that beach, and everything will be like it was before. And Lawrence will be on his own to face his death.

  Chapter 28

  Cassandra

  I’m going to lose it. The stress of this whole situation will break my sanity. I have no doubt of this. I pace on the warm sand, waiting. It’s been forty-five minutes. Lawrence still hasn’t come. I refuse to accept what that might mean. My heart couldn’t bear the pain.

  I’m going to kill Brandon. Someone has to answer for this. I’m going to go completely rogue and extract my revenge on the entire town of Crest Harbor. One by one, I’ll—

  “Cassandra.”

  I spin around. At the sight of Lawrence, my eyes slide closed and I exhale with relief.

  “I’m so sorry,” he says, rushing to take me in his arms. “Ned was home and I couldn’t get away.”

  I melt into the embrace. “It doesn’t matter. I’m just so glad that you’re here now.”

  Lawrence kisses me. I can feel the difference in his kiss. There’s an urgency, a hunger to make each embrace count. I recognize it because I feel the same way.

  We hold each other for a long time and then sit together in the sand.

  “So,” Lawrence says finally, “what do we do now?”

  “I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I think we have to accept that Brandon could be a culprit in your murder. Or at least cause a chain of events that will lead to your murder.”

  Lawrence exhales slowly, ruffling his hair with frustration. “I’m a fool.”

  “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. All of this is my fault. At the start of this, Cooper Enterprises was the only plausible suspect. Now, thanks to my meddling, Brandon and this Fay girl’s family have both become possibilities.”

  I want him to tell me I’m wrong, but even he can’t muster the lie. “If I’d just followed my instincts and left things alone. If I’d left you alone.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “Why not? It’s true. If I had never come back to the beach like I promised, you’d have a long, happy future to look forward to.”

  “Don’t talk like this, Cassandra. I won’t hear it.” He holds the side of my face. “I don’t want a future without you.”

  His lips come to mine. My eyes sting. I don’t deserve this rush of adrenaline at the feel of the kiss. I don’t deserve someone to love me so perfectly. It’s an ideal summer evening—golden and warm and fragrant. Everything about tonight, possibly our last night together, should be perfect. And it would be if not for this horrible, sinking fear that I’ve ruined everything.

  “You shouldn’t take this so hard,” Lawrence says softly. “Nothing may come of this Brandon business.”

  “Or everything might.”

  “There’s no way to know, so we might as well not think about it.”

  Lawrence laces my hand in his. “I don’t want to spend our time together like this.”

  “Neither do I.”

  He kisses my cheek, and the warmth of his lips runs through my entire body. But tonight every sweetness is overpowered by the bitter reminder of what Lawrence is about to face.

  “I’d better go in for dinner,” I say, my heart heavy. “Mom’s probably wondering where I am.”

  Lawrence brushes a strand of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “Will you sneak out
when your parents go to bed?”

  I nod, hoping I’ll be able to shake this gloom by the time I come back. If these really are my final hours with Lawrence, I want them to be like last night, not this.

  “See you later,” I say.

  Lawrence pulls me into a hug. “I’ll be waiting.”

  My feet feel like stones as I head back to the house. The last thing I want to do is leave Lawrence. I should be in his arms, not moping a hundred years away. Sitting in the kitchen with Mom, Frank, and Eddie and pretending to be fine. Dodging questions from Mom. Torture. But when I step into the house, it’s not Mom waiting for me. It’s Brandon.

  A zing of terror cuts through me. Is he back to fight with Lawrence? Is he planning to reveal my secret to my mom and Frank? It’s as if all my worst what-ifs are suddenly coming true at once.

  “Who let you in?” I ask.

  The silence in the house rings like a heavy note in my ears. I don’t think anyone’s even here. Maybe they went in to pick up something for dinner and bring it back.

  “Let’s go for a drive,” Brandon says.

  For a moment, I don’t move. What is he up to? Maybe he’s planning to kill me.

  I almost roll my eyes at my own thought. Brandon is many things, but murderer isn’t one of them. Still…I don’t completely trust him. But I need to get him back on my side. Maybe there’s a chance I can make this right.

  “A drive where?” I ask cautiously.

  “Does it matter?”

  “I suppose it doesn’t, provided we avoid dark alleys and abandoned warehouses.”

  Brandon maintains his stone expression and walks away. Tossing a nervous glance at the back door, I discretely text Mom and follow him.

  For the first seven minutes of the drive—I watch each one pass on the dashboard clock—neither of us speaks. Then I stare at the tailored lawns and summer trees rolling past in a green blur. The thoughts in my head seem to be passing in a similar way. What do I say to Brandon? How am I supposed to make this better? He saw what he saw. I can’t feed him some line and pretend that he didn’t. He needs some kind of explanation. Trouble is, when I think about it, there are very few ways I can envision this going well.

  “Brandon…”

  His gaze cuts to me, sharp and yet full of an unreadable emotion. Fear? Anger? I can’t say.

  “I want answers, Cass.”

  “I know.”

  Brandon waits. “Well, what in the hell happened back there?”

  I’m tempted to gaslight him, to pretend that I didn’t see anything, that he’s crazy. But my instincts scream out that if I do, he’ll go searching for proof of his claims. Besides, Brandon deserves the truth. All things considered, he’s not a bad guy. Had this summer gone differently, he and I could have been friends. Maybe even more. It may be the biggest risk I’ve ever taken, but somehow, deep down, I know I need to be honest.

  “Pull over,” I say, setting my hand on Brandon’s arm.

  He hesitates but parks his car on the side of the road. The ocean glows in the early evening sun just beyond the bluff, strengthening me.

  “Logic is going to resist what I’m about to tell you, Brandon. You’re not going to believe it. You’re not going to want to believe it. But you have to trust what you saw. Hold on to that. It was real. You’re weren’t imagining it.”

  “Enough. Tell me what I saw.”

  I steady my voice. “You were right. Lawrence isn’t from around here. Well, he is. But not in the way you’d think. He’s from a different Crest Harbor. One that existed…in nineteen twenty-five.”

  Brandon’s eyes narrow slightly, but his gaze stays on me.

  “I know this going to sound insane. Trust me, I struggled with it a lot at first. I still have to be convinced of it sometimes. But Lawrence is from nineteen twenty-five. He lives in the same house I’m living in now, only almost a hundred years in the past. And for some reason, which neither of us can figure out, I can see him on that beach.”

  More silence.

  “The beach is the only place though. That’s why he disappeared as he walked back to the house. He goes back into nineteen twenty-five. That’s what you saw.”

  Brandon shakes his head slightly, anger flaring in his cheeks. “I’m not stupid, Cass.”

  “I know you’re not. That’s why I’m being honest with you.”

  “I’m not stupid!” He slams both hands on the steering wheel.

  “Then believe me.”

  Brandon huffs. Then shaking his head again, he revs the engine to a start.

  “I told you it would be hard to believe, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t the truth.”

  He jams the car into gear and spins it back onto the road, the wheels screeching in protest.

  “If you give me some time, I’ll tell you everything I know.”

  The car burns back down the street. Brandon radiates fury. I anticipated this reaction, but he’s headed back to my house. Is he going to tell my mom everything I just said? I need time to get him on my side.

  “Give me a chance to prove it to you, at least,” I say.

  White-hot silence.

  “It doesn’t make any sense to me either, okay? But it is what it is. I can’t change the facts to make them more believable.”

  I can’t handle his wordless rage right now. I can’t handle any of it. It’s all too much. I wish I were back in Nowhere, Ohio, wondering what college I’ll go to and what I want to be when I grow up.

  “Are you going to tell my mom I’m insane?” I ask, tears stinging my eyes. “Are you going to turn me in to the police or something?”

  In response, Brandon pushes down on the accelerator.

  “Do whatever you want, okay?” I snap. “At this point, I don’t even care.”

  The sandcastle Lawrence and I have been living in is finally toppling beneath the wave of reality. We couldn’t keep this secret forever. Brandon will tell Mom, who will drag me to some nice shrink, and Lawrence will die on that beach tomorrow. Brandon pulls the car up my driveway. I wipe away the tears on my face. They won’t do me any good now.

  He slams on the brakes and unlocks the doors but doesn’t put the car in park. “Go,” he says, staring out the windshield.

  A flicker of hope lights in me. “You’re not…going to tell my mom what I’ve said?”

  Finally, Brandon looks me in the eye. He doesn’t seem as angry as I thought. More confused.

  “I don’t ever want to talk about it again. And I don’t ever want to talk to you again. As far as I’m concerned, this conversation, that conversation on the beach, none of it ever happened. Deal?”

  I nod, blinking back surprise. “Are you sure you’re not going to tell anyone?”

  “Good-bye, Cass.”

  “I just—”

  “Good-bye.”

  I stumble out of the car. “Okay, bye.”

  Before I can give him a final wave, Brandon zooms away.

  Watching him speed down the driveway, I’m not sure what to feel. I guess it should be a relief, but I also can’t completely relax. It’s almost too good to be true…

  Rubbing the shiver off my arms, I head back to the house. Mom’s still gone, so I go straight for the beach. I just want some time with Lawrence.

  Passing through the bushy path, however, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Something’s off. Something’s wrong.

  Another step and I see them.

  Lawrence and Mom. Standing together on the beach.

  They both look up at me at the same time. Lawrence’s expression says it all. Though Mom’s furious, thin-pressed lips do a good job as well.

  At that moment, part of me gives up. Maybe destiny is involved, just not in the way I thought. Maybe Lawrence is destined to die, and the more I’m in the picture, the more certain that becomes. Everything
I do to help him only seems to get us both deeper into trouble.

  Mom folds her arms across her chest, letting her glare sink in. At this point, though, I’m done. I throw out my arms.

  “I don’t know what to say, Mom.”

  She looks more disappointed than mad. I’ve never been the sneaking out type or one to lie to her. “I think your friend needs to leave.”

  Lawrence and I exchange a tense glance.

  “He lives on the other side of the point,” I say quickly.

  Lawrence gives an imperceptible nod, then bows his head to my mom.

  “Again, I apologize, ma’am. I never intended any disrespect.”

  Mom visibly softens at his politeness, though she still tries to maintain her look of stern disapproval. “I hope to meet you again under better circumstances.”

  “Indeed.”

  Lawrence starts down the beach, casting a glance at me over his shoulder. We’ll see each other later, but even so, I don’t like seeing him leave. There’s so much we need to plan for tomorrow. These interruptions are giving me a serious headache.

  When he’s far enough away, Mom turns to me, and her expression hardens.

  “How long?” she asks.

  I feel sick to my stomach. “It’s a really complicated situation, Mom.”

  “This explains your behavior lately,” she says with a sigh. “You know my rules about lying.”

  “I’ve never really lied.”

  “All that time you spent ‘on the beach’? All those ‘trips to the library’?”

  “I really was at the library! You saw me!”

  She shakes her head. “Don’t make this worse.”

  “Mom, listen—”

  She holds a silencing hand in the air. “We’ll discuss this later, when I’m in a better mood. For now, you are grounded. And I mean at the house. No beach.”

  My whole body tenses. “No.”

  “In your room for the rest of the night. I will be watching the stairs,” she adds. “I know you snuck out the other night.”

  I grab her arm with desperation. “Mom, please. I can’t—”

  “Enough,” she says firmly. “I need some time to think about what I’m going to do with you.”