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by Michelle Madow


  “Fine.” Zac set his jaw. “We’ll consider Robby a suspect.”

  “And he still thinks he’s going with me to that dance.” Claire scrunched her nose. “I need to tell him never mind, and that he should ask someone else—”

  “No,” Zac interrupted, and Claire and I looked at him as if he were crazy. “If you’re supposed to go to the dance with Robby and have a fight with him there, then you have to make that happen.”

  “There’s a chance he’ll go there with a gun!” Claire exclaimed. “I can’t go with him. No way.”

  “You might have to,” he said. “Annabelle, the shooting happened soon after their fight, since I was dancing with Claire to cheer her up, right?”

  “Yeah,” I said tentatively. “Robby was standing to the side glaring at Claire. That was the last time I saw him before Jake and I started dancing.”

  “That fight might have set him off.” Zac rubbed his chin, as if in deep thought.

  “But if he’s the shooter, then Claire’s right,” I said. “She shouldn’t go with him to the dance. Remember—in my world, they’d been dating for months. There’s no way to make it so that’s true here. She can figure out how to fight with Robby without actually going with him to the dance.”

  “I can manage to fight with him,” Claire said. “I like that idea better than going with him to the dance.”

  “Fine,” Zac said. “We can work with that. And I have some other ideas to make it so no one will get hurt on Friday night. I know I’m not a substitute for an actual cop, but my dad put me in summer programs for self-defense, and I’ve gone with him to the shooting range. I can protect both of you. I know it.”

  “I trust you,” I said, surprised by how much I meant it.

  “Me too,” Claire agreed.

  “Good,” Zac said, bringing his hands together. “And as much as I hate to admit this, it’s good that Jake knows the truth. We just have to hope he believes it.”

  “Why?” I asked. “I thought you hated Jake.”

  “I don’t hate Jake,” he said. “What I hate is that for these past few months, you remember dating him and not me. I hate how I’m erased—as if we never happened—and I hate not knowing if you’ll ever get those memories back. You’re right in front of me, but you’re not. And I miss you like crazy.”

  “I’m sorry.” I pressed my lips together and stared at the floor, not sure what else I could say. I couldn’t tell him that it would all be okay, because what he said was true. He might never get Annabelle back.

  The same way that I might never get Jake back.

  “It’s not your fault.” He blew out a long breath. “But it’s frustrating as hell.”

  “I know,” I said, remembering what it was like trying to get through to Jake in his car today. How crushed I’d been when I’d failed. “I get how much it hurts. But… why do you suddenly want Jake to know the truth?”

  “Because we need to have Friday night play out as similar as possible to how you remember it,” he said. “Which means that when that slow song comes on, you need to be dancing with Jake.”

  I closed my eyes, remembering what it had been like dancing with Jake before that night went to hell. How he’d whispered in my ear that he loved me, and how I’d wanted to live in that moment forever.

  “I don’t think that’s going to be easy.” I sighed and hugged my legs to my chest. “He didn’t even want to touch me today. He hates me because a version of myself that I don’t remember was a bitch to Marisa.”

  “Annabelle wasn’t a bitch,” Zac said. “Maybe she said some things she didn’t mean, but she was an incredible person. She was smart, and fun, and lighthearted, and caring.”

  “That hardly describes me recently,” I said. “It’s hard to be fun and lighthearted after everything I’ve been through these past few months.”

  “The point is that your life is on the line,” he said. “Jake’s life is on the line. If he doesn’t help us, then I don’t know what you ever saw in him. And he definitely wouldn’t deserve you.”

  “Yes, he does.” My cheeks heated, and I clenched my fists, leveling my gaze with Zac’s. He had no right to judge Jake. He didn’t even know Jake. “Tell us your idea. I’ll get Jake on board.”

  From there, he told us his plan.

  Wednesday, October 29

  I was almost to my car after school when a familiar voice called my name—Marisa. In her low rise jeans and tight top that showed off a slit of her now-flat stomach, she looked nothing like the girl I’d once considered to be my best friend. She stormed through the parking lot, her hair blowing behind her, and while I couldn’t see her eyes behind her sunglasses, her lips were curled into absolute hatred.

  I swallowed and took a step back. Why was she here? Had Jake told her everything? He said he wouldn’t… but had we grown so far apart that he would lie to me? Did I even know him anymore?

  She reached me and crossed her arms, clearly waiting for me to say something.

  “Hey.” I attempted to be casual, but my voice shook anyway. “What’s up?”

  “You sat alone with my boyfriend in his car yesterday for an hour and now you’re asking me ‘what’s up?’ Seriously, Annabelle.” The way she said my name dripped with sarcasm. “You might be a selfish bitch, but I know you’re not stupid.”

  I flinched at her words. “I’m guessing that Jake told you we talked.”

  “He didn’t tell me.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder. “But did you expect me not to find out?”

  “I was just talking to him,” I said. “It didn’t mean anything—”

  “Save it,” she snapped. “We both know that isn’t true.”

  I studied her, searching for a remnant of our friendship. We’d been friends long before Jake came into the picture. It started in sixth grade, when the “cool girls” kicked Marisa out of their group. She was crying, and I asked her to sit with me at lunch. We’d been friends ever since.

  Now it was like we didn’t know each other anymore.

  “What happened to us?” I asked softly. “We used to be best friends.”

  “Seriously?” She raised an eyebrow. “Friends don’t try to steal each others’ boyfriends.”

  “I was just talking to him.” I stepped back, holding my hands out. “Nothing more happened. I promise.”

  Guilt filled my chest, because if Jake and I ended up back together, I would be proving my betrayal to Marisa. But if I stepped aside, I would regret not doing everything possible to get my boyfriend back.

  Maybe Marisa was right, and I was selfish. Because from everything I’d seen, Jake was happy in this world, with her. If I loved him, I would let him be happy.

  But I couldn’t let him go. The Jake I loved wouldn’t want me to.

  “Don’t play dumb,” Marisa said. “We both know what I meant.”

  She was wearing heels, which made her tower over me, and I shrunk in her gaze. I had no idea what she meant, but what good was telling her that? She would think I was lying. And I couldn’t tell her the truth, because like Zac had said last night, everyone at the dance who I didn’t see during the shooting was a suspect—including Marisa.

  “How do you know I was talking to him?” I asked. “Were you spying on him?”

  “No.” She reeled back. “How insecure do you think I am?”

  “I didn’t mean it like that.” I twisted my hands together. “But if you didn’t see us together, I’m guessing someone else did. Then they told you. Right?”

  “Whatever.” She perched her sunglasses on top of her head, revealing the hatred blazing in her eyes. She’d never looked at me like that before—like she wished I didn’t exist. “All I care about is that you stay away from Jake,” she said. “You have your own boyfriend. Keep your hands off of mine.”

  She flipped her hair and strutted away, and I watched her leave, speechless. Because no matter how I tried to justify it, she was right.

  Annabelle chose Zac, not Jake.

  Jake ch
ose Marisa.

  Maybe now that I had my mom back, I couldn’t be with Jake. Maybe I couldn’t have both of them.

  But that wouldn’t stop me from trying.

  Wednesday, October 29

  Focusing on my homework was impossible. I kept glancing at my watch, waiting for Doomed to end. Jake had to reach out to me afterward. He would know I was telling the truth, and he would realize that I wasn’t the Annabelle from the past few months.

  He would give me another chance.

  When the clock hit 9:00, I stared at my phone, willing Jake to call me. A minute passed without hearing from him. I sat frozen, barely able to breathe. Another minute passed, and another, until it was 9:05. Then five more minutes. 9:10. Still, nothing.

  Finally, at 9:15, my phone rang. Jake.

  “Hey.” I tried to sound as normal as possible, even though I was shaking.

  “You were right,” he said. “I don’t know how, but you were right.”

  “I told you how.” I swallowed, trying to steady myself. “I explained it all in your car yesterday.”

  “I know.” He blew out a long breath. “It’s just so… crazy.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “It is.” I bit my lip, my heart aching from hearing his voice. Talking to him was supposed to feel normal. But it felt like there were worlds between us, and I didn’t know what I could do to bridge the distance.

  “I would’ve called right after the show,” he said. “But I had to get Marisa to leave.”

  “Oh,” I managed to say. “I didn’t know she liked Doomed.”

  “I don’t think she does,” he said. “But she comes over to watch it with me anyway.”

  I rested my fingers on my wrist, searching for the bracelets that weren’t there. I hadn’t worn any bracelets since waking up in this world on Monday morning. It would feel like I was trying to replace the ones Jake had made for me, and I couldn’t do that.

  “Anyway.” He cleared his throat. “If it was just one part of the show that you’d known about, I would have thought you’d seen a spoiler online. But the way you knew every detail like that… it’s impossible.”

  “But you believe me?” I asked, pressing the phone closer to my ear.

  “Can you come over?”

  “Now?” My heart leaped. It was exactly what I’d wanted him to say. But at the same time, it wasn’t for the reason I wanted. I wanted him to want to see me.

  Right now he just wanted answers about this crazy thing that had happened to me.

  Still, at least it would be a start.

  “Yes, now,” he said. “Or I can come over there. Whichever is better for you.”

  “I’ll come over there,” I said, not needing to think twice about it. I didn’t want Jake to see my room now—all the changes would make him see Annabelle, not me. And I missed spending time at his house. After my mom died, his house became a second home to me. I wanted to be there again. “See you soon.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “See you soon.”

  I freshened up, grabbed my backpack, and headed downstairs. My parents were in the library, my mom reading a book and my dad grading papers. I loved seeing them both in there again. My dad had seemed so lonely in there for the past few months, without my mom around to keep him company.

  On the wall behind Dad’s desk was a plaque awarding him for winning a shooting competition last year. I’d never paid much attention to it, but after my experience at the dance, I couldn’t help noticing it now. Going to the range had always been a hobby of his. He went with Danny’s dad, which was how our families became friends. Sometimes they took Eric and Danny with them.

  My eyes drifted to the safe nestled beneath the library shelves—where my dad kept his gun—and I shuddered at the thought of it so close by. I’d always known it was there, and it never bothered me before. But seeing it now made the memories from the dance flash through my mind.

  The crack of the shot. Jake’s blood on my dress. The chaos covering my screams for help. Jake’s blank eyes staring up at the ceiling. Knowing that he was gone. That I’d lost him forever.

  The helplessness I’d felt that night slammed down on me so quickly that my chest felt like it was caving in, and I leaned against the doorframe to steady myself.

  “Annabelle?” Dad asked. “Is everything all right?”

  “Yeah.” I blinked a few times, snapping my mind back into the present. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” I gripped the strap of my bag, steadying myself and reminding myself why I was here. “But I left a textbook at school. Jake said I could come over to borrow his.”

  “Right now?” Mom glanced at her watch and frowned. “Isn’t it late to be going out on a school night?”

  “I need it for a homework assignment due tomorrow.” I shrugged and managed a small smile, as if acknowledging how silly it had been of me to be so careless.

  “Hmm.” Dad quirked an eyebrow and held his pen up to his chin. “You’re just picking the book up, and then you’ll come back home?”

  “Jake also offered to help me with the homework,” I said. “It’s for physics, and I really want to get my grade up. That’s okay, right?”

  “You haven’t mentioned Jake in months,” Mom said. “I didn’t think the two of you were close anymore.”

  “We are.” I pressed my lips together and pulled my hair over my shoulder. “I mean, we drifted apart for a while, but we’re talking again. Sort of. It’s complicated.” I swallowed, wanting to change the subject. I hated lying to them. “But I need to borrow the book, and he got an A on our last test, so he’ll really be able to help me on the homework. Is it okay if I go? Just this once.”

  Mom and Dad looked at each other, doing that thing where they have a conversation without actually speaking.

  “We like Jake, and I’m glad you’re getting more serious about your grades,” Mom said. “So yes, you can go.”

  “But try to get home before ten thirty,” Dad added.

  “I’ll come back right after we finish the homework.” I smiled and gave them both hugs, as if it could make up for the lie. “Love you both.”

  “Love you too,” they chorused, and then I was out the door.

  Wednesday, October 29

  I parked in my usual spot in Jake’s driveway and walked up to the front door, and he opened it before I had a chance to knock. My heart fluttered at the familiarity of it all.

  He flipped his hair out of his eyes, watching me with curiosity. For a few seconds, I pretended he was my Jake and that nothing had changed between us. That I was here on a Wednesday night about to have dinner with his family, and then watch TV with him, and that all was normal.

  “Hey.” His voice was tight. Hearing him be so distant zapped me back to reality.

  “Hey.” I inched my hand toward him, but pulled it back. Even though he’d reached out to me by inviting me over, I had to take this slowly. So I shifted my feet, waiting for him to take the lead.

  “We should go to my room to talk.” He held the door open, and I stepped inside. The delicious smell of marinara sauce still lingered from dinner, blankets were strewn across the couches in front of the TV, and his younger sister Maddie’s toys were in a pile next to the couch.

  “Your parents are getting Maddie ready for bed right now?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said. “She insists on watching Doomed with us, but she always falls asleep right after it starts.”

  “But if your parents try to make her go to bed during the commercials, she throws a fit.” I smiled, glancing back at the toys. “So they let her stay down with everyone until the show’s over.”

  “Right.” He tilted his head, studying me. For a moment I swore he was seeing me—not Annabelle—and I stepped closer to him, my gaze locked on his.

  But then he glanced toward the stairs, and the moment—if I could even call it that—was gone.

  “I would ask you how you knew that, but I think I know your answer,” he said. “Let�
��s go to my room and talk?”

  I followed him upstairs, even though I could find his room with my eyes closed. Once inside, he shut the door, and I made myself comfortable on his bed.

  He sat awkwardly at his desk chair, and I realized Annabelle wouldn’t have been so at ease in his room. We hadn’t hung out in here until after my mom passed away. Only then had he let me come in, lay on the bed with him, and cry until no tears were left.

  He gripped the armrests of his chair, and my cheeks heated. His discomfort was another reminder that I was a stranger to him.

  “You’ve been in here a lot?” he finally broke the silence.

  “Yeah.” I scooted to the edge of the bed, my feet dangling over my discarded flip-flops. “Should I sit on the floor? Or I’ll take the chair, and you can sit on the bed?”

  “No,” he said. “You’re fine.”

  “Okay.” I resituated myself back onto the bed, more tentatively than I had the first time.

  “So…” He leaned back and glanced at his door. “I told my parents that I was tutoring you in physics.”

  “And I told mine that I was borrowing a textbook and you were helping me with the physics homework.”

  “It sounds like our stories were similar.” He cracked a smile—it was the first time that this Jake had smiled at me—and my chest warmed with how close I felt with him in that moment.

  “They were,” I agreed. “My parents want me back home by ten thirty… but if I tell them we were focused on studying, they probably won’t freak out if I get back at eleven.”

  “We should get to the point then, shouldn’t we?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” I nodded, even though I wanted nothing more than to sit here with Jake, laughing and having fun. I wanted to believe that he was my Jake, who loved me.

  But he wasn’t my Jake. And trying to pretend otherwise wasn’t helping anyone.

  “Where do you want to start?” I asked.

  “You were right.” He picked up a pair of aviator sunglasses from his desk and fiddled with the frame. “You knew every detail about what was going to happen on Doomed. Things that no one except the people working on the show could know—and they’re under contract not to leak spoilers to the public. But it’s more than that…”

 

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