Autumn's Wish

by Bella Thorne

  I can do this, I keep reminding myself. My body works. But if I don’t get this right, Sean’s won’t anymore.

  With the image of Sean in the hospital bed fixed in my mind, I haul Schmidt up the attic steps, one rickety stair at a time. Then I clamber back down, leaving Schmidt whining nervously at the top. I’m not worried he’ll try to climb down and fall. He’s too scared for that. I feel terrible, but it’s for a good cause.

  “Sorry, boy,” I tell him. “It’ll only be for a little while, and then I’ll go buy you a burger, okay?”

  The offer doesn’t cheer him. I check the time. I’m cutting it close. On away game days, Sean would already be off with the team on the bus. For home games, the Aventura players have only a short window between the end of classes and when they have to be back with the team to get into their uniforms and warm up. I need to catch Sean now.

  I call his cell. When he answers, I channel Taylor and give the performance of my life. It’s not hard. I just think about how badly I want to save him from the fate I saw and the fear comes pouring out.

  “Sean, oh my God, I’m so sorry, I need your help. I’m all alone and I think he’s going to get hurt and I need a guy and I can’t get anyone else and I know you’re busy and I’m so, so sorry but pleeeeease can you come over?!”

  “Is this Autumn?” he asks, confused.

  “Yes, please, I’m so sorry. It’s Schmidt. Someone left the attic stairs open and he got up there and he can’t get down and he’s really heavy and I tried but I almost fell and I don’t want to hurt us both and—”

  “Easy, easy,” he says so soothingly that I almost hate myself for what I’m going to do. “Look, I have to get to school soon. Maybe I can call someone and get them over there.”

  “No!” Schmidt howls plaintively and I’m suddenly so frantic that this isn’t going to work that my voice gets shrill and I start to cry. “Schmidt freaks out if someone he doesn’t know picks him up. He’ll start flailing and moving and the guy could drop him and—”

  “I’ll be there in five minutes,” he assures me. “I just have to be quick.”

  “Quick is great,” I sob. “Quick is perfect.”

  I hang up and grab some of Schmidt’s favorite dog treats. When I hear Sean’s car outside, I run up to the top of the attic stairs and throw a treat to the farthest corner of the room. Schmidt bounds after it and I dart quickly back down the stairs.

  “You’re here!” I gush as I open the door.

  Sean’s wearing denim shorts and a T-shirt that shows off all his muscles, and for just a second I forget not only why he’s here, but also why I ever stopped liking him. He pushes past me before I can gush. “Where’s the attic?”

  “That way,” I say. I point him to the back stairs, and as I follow behind him, I lightly pull his phone from his back pocket and set it on the floor. He doesn’t notice. “You are the best friend in the world and a true savior of dogs in need.”

  He turns and flashes his melt-worthy smile. “I’m a savior of ex-girlfriends in need,” he says. “I don’t like to hear you cry.”

  It seriously kills me that if all goes well he’s going to hate me in about five minutes, but I remind myself I have no choice. This is my Dad-given mission, and even though Sean will never know it, I’ll know I saved his life.

  Sean jogs up the rickety stairs, and I follow right behind him. Our attic is unfinished. It’s all wooden beams and a zillion random things we stored up here after the move. Thin, high windows let in the sunlight, and Sean bounds toward Schmidt, still in a far corner munching his treat. With Sean’s back to me, I reach into my pocket and toss another treat to the other side of the room. Schmidt bounds after it.

  “What was that sound?” Sean asks.

  “I don’t know!” I shout in fake panic. “Schmidt, no! Don’t run to the stairs!”

  Schmidt’s not running anywhere near the stairs, but I pretend I don’t know that. I pull on the attic stairs, folding them up and pulling the door shut as if in a panic. When I hear the door latch, I don’t know if I’m relieved my plan really worked or terrified about what’ll happen next.

  A minute later, Sean walks over with Schmidt in his arms. “Okay, Autumn,” he says. “I’ve got him. You can open the door.”

  I nod and press down on the door, as if I don’t know it doesn’t open from inside. Then I push harder. I aim for a confused look on my face.

  “Autumn?” Sean asks.

  “I don’t get it,” I say. “It’s not opening.”

  “What do you mean it’s not opening?”

  I push down on the door more frantically, then look up at him as if I’ve just made a horrible discovery. “I don’t think it opens from the inside.”

  “No,” Sean says. He puts Schmidt down and starts pushing on the door. “No, no, no, no, no. This isn’t possible. I have to get out of here.” He reaches for his back pocket. When he speaks next, his voice is shaky. “Where’s my cell phone?”

  “You don’t have it?”

  “I had it. I don’t have it.”

  “Did it drop?”

  We retrace his steps through the attic, even though I’m just doing it for show. No shocker, the phone’s not up here.

  “Are you kidding me?!” he roars. He looks frantically around the attic and grabs a giant golden goblet that was some hideous gift my mom and dad got for their wedding and kept because it was so hysterically awful. He runs it to the attic door and starts pounding the goblet down.

  “Stop!” I scream. “You’ll break it!”

  “That’s the point!” he yells back. “I need to get out of here!”

  “You can’t break a hole in my mom’s ceiling to do it!” I yell.

  That calms him down. A little. Or at least it stops him from destroying things. Sean’s a good guy. He wouldn’t hurt anything that wasn’t his. Instead of pounding, he just paces the room like a caged animal. “Why did you close the door, Autumn? Didn’t you know it locked from this side?”

  I want to tell him I had no idea, but if my mom ends up saving us, she’ll spill the truth.

  “I wasn’t thinking,” I moan instead. “I was just so scared that Schmidt would run down and hurt himself.”

  “I have to get out of here,” Sean says. “If I don’t get to warm-ups on time, Coach won’t let me play. If I don’t play, the FSU scout won’t see me, and there’s no way I’m getting into the school.”

  “I know,” I say. “I’m so sorry.”

  Sean paces some more, then lets out a visceral scream that I’m surprised doesn’t get the attention of everyone else in the neighborhood. Sean seems to think the same thing, because he runs to one of the windows and tries to open it.

  “I don’t think they open,” I say.

  He cocks his fist and looks so furious that I worry for a second that he’ll punch it open…but then he just sighs and sits down on one of my mom’s big storage trunks. Sensing sadness, Schmidt trots to his side. Sean scratches his head. My heart completely breaks for Sean. He knows every second he’s here, his dream is closer to slipping away, but he’s not taking it out on me, or on Schmidt, or on any of our stuff. He’s just dealing with it.

  I move to him and sit down next to him on the trunk. “I’m sorry,” I say, and put my hand on his arm.

  “Don’t touch me,” he says dully.

  Okay, maybe he’s taking it out on me a little bit.

  We don’t talk while we wait. Sean sits and stews, only moving to look at his watch every few minutes. When we finally hear noise downstairs, Sean leaps up and yells down at the door. It clicks open, and as it folds down we see Erick. Sean races downstairs and pushes past him. I follow, but Erick stops me at the foot of the stairs.

  “ ‘Accidentally’ locked yourself in the attic, huh?” he says with a knowing leer. “Been meaning to try that one myself.”

  “Shut up,” I say. “And go get Schmidt. He’s in the attic.” I grab Sean’s phone from the floor and race out the door. He’s already in his car wi
th the engine on, but I tear open the passenger side door and dive in.

  “Get out,” he says.

  “I found your phone,” I retort. “And I’m coming with you. I want to help explain to your coach.”

  Okay, the truth is I want to put on a good show so Sean and the rest of my friends don’t completely despise me, but I’m secretly hoping nothing I say will make a difference to Sean’s coach.

  He drives full speed, his mood getting lighter every second. There’s still a full half hour before the game, so Sean thinks the coach might take pity on him, especially with the scout in the stands. “Thanks for coming with me, Autumn,” he says. “I think it might actually help.”

  “Hope so,” I say, though I’m not sure I sound convincing.

  We screech into the parking lot and run to the stadium, where Sean immediately finds the coach. In a wild rush, he explains everything that happened and urges me to back him up. I try…but the coach doesn’t want to hear it.

  “Rules are rules,” he says. “You’re not playing.”

  “But, Coach!” Sean objects. “You can’t! Not this game. Suspend me for a different game. The FSU scout—”

  “Is something you should have thought about before you went to play hero,” the coach says. “You’re out.”

  The coach walks away. Sean looks after him, mouth open, like he can’t believe the conversation is actually over. Then he deflates.

  “Sean…”

  It’s a sentence I start with absolutely no idea how I’ll finish, which is fine because Sean doesn’t let me.

  “Autumn, don’t,” he says. “Please. Just go.”

  I sigh and look down at the ground as if I’m intensely depressed, when I actually want to skip out of the stadium.

  I saved Sean.

  I think.

  I need to be sure.

  The second I’m out of the stadium, I pull the locket out from under my shirt. I open it up and think a minute, then set it for June, four and a half years from now. That’s right after our senior year of college. If Sean’s okay by then, I’ll know for sure he’s safe.

  I close the locket and squeeze it in my hand.

  Show me what I need to see, Dad. Let me know if Sean’s okay.

  “Heads up!” Sean cries.

  I look up to see him run to the edge of the pool—my pool, in my backyard at home—and execute an absolutely gorgeous dive. He hits the water and I squeal and cringe away as it splashes over me, but of course I don’t feel it or get wet at all. I run-dance with joy as I trail him while he does a perfect crawl stroke across the pool and back again, then hoists himself out.

  “You’re moving!” I scream. “You’re okay! You’re—”

  I take a second to notice his perfectly chiseled body, covered only by a tiny black speedo.

  “Practically naked!” I gasp. “Since when do you wear a bathing suit like that? I mean, I’m not complaining, you totally pull it off, but…seriously?”

  “Seriously, Sean?” Future Me echoes from a chaise lounge. She’s on our deck with Taylor, Jack, and Reenzie. “Get back in the water!”

  I walk over to Future Me to check her out. She’s wearing a turquoise bikini and funky round sunglasses that are so super-cute, I kinda can’t wait the four and a half years until I can buy them. Big smile, long orange hair, great makeup, hanging out with her high school friends…This is looking good!

  Reenzie picks up a bottle of iced tea from our outdoor table. “A toast—to all the graduates!”

  Jack, Taylor, Future Me, and Sean grab bottles and clink.

  “So we all graduated,” I say as they drink. “That’s excellent!”

  “Is it horrible that I’m kind of glad Amalita isn’t here?” Reenzie says as she lowers her bottle.

  “Yes!” Taylor admonishes her.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to see her,” Reenzie clarifies as she sits back on her chaise. “It’s just that it was so hard watching her fall off the wagon again and again. It’s exhausting.”

  “Her parents say the place she’s in this time is really good,” Future Me says.

  “Third time’s the charm,” Sean says, perching on the end of Future Me’s chaise. She smacks him on the arm. “No, I mean it!” he insists. “I hope she gets better this time.”

  “Okay, I get it!” I shout to the universe in general. “I need to deal with Ames and the drinking thing. I’ll get her away from Zander and the parties. That’ll do it, I know.” I move to Taylor and sit down on her chaise with her, and it’s only a little awkward when she stretches out so her legs go right through me. “So tell me,” I say to her. “Are you with Drew? Did that work out?”

  “Hey, everyone! Are we too late?”

  The voice is weirdly singsongy, and I turn to see J.J. coming in from the back slider. He’s bent practically double and holds the hands of a very small person with dark hair just like his. The baby toddles along on wobbly feet and knobby legs, and I’m pretty sure he’ll topple if J.J. lets go.

  I rest my head in my hands. “J.J., tell me that’s not your and Carrie’s baby.”

  “Hi, Uncle Jack!” J.J. says, waving one of the baby’s hands. “Hi, Uncle Sean! Hi, Auntie Autumn and Auntie Reenzie and Auntie Taylor!”

  Everyone coos and calls their hellos, and Taylor and Jack get up to play with the kid on the lawn, which I now realize is scattered with baby toys. Why? Does J.J. bring his kid here all the time? I remember the other future, where J.J.’s parents didn’t have a lot to do with him. Is it like that here too? Did my mom take him under her wing? I wouldn’t be surprised. She’s nuts for babies.

  I, however, am not nuts for babies, either now or apparently in the future. Future Me is all about lounging with Reenzie and Sean and isn’t even looking at the baby on the lawn.

  “Hey,” Reenzie says. “Have you guys seen the Keith Hamilton billboards?”

  “Keith Hamilton billboards?” I ask. “What’s he on a billboard for? Did he invent something?”

  “Yes!” Taylor cries from the lawn. “I cannot even deal with how hot he is!”

  “Seriously?!” Future Me and I ask at the same time.

  “Oh, Autumn, you have missed out,” Jack says. “Boyfriend is an underwear model.”

  “He is not!” she and I again say at the same time.

  Jack grabs his phone and finds something online, then shows Future Me. I, of course, check it out too.

  Wow. The Keith Hamilton I know is cute enough, but he’s a goofball. He’s super smart and, as far as I can tell, hangs out with his group of all-guy friends in the halls, quoting movies that make them laugh. Oh, and he’s in the school a cappella group. But this Keith…this Keith is shot in moody black-and-white, looking sexily at the camera, wearing an open button-down that shows his entire eight-pack and, of course, his Calvin Klein underwear.

  “Keith Hamilton,” Reenzie says in disbelief. “Who knew?”

  “Carrie did,” J.J. calls from the lawn. “She had a huge crush on him. To the point where if he’d shown any interest at all…” He leans closer to his son and says in a high-pitched voice, “I don’t know that you’d even be here, little guy.”

  My pulse speeds up. If Keith Hamilton had wanted Carrie, she’d have chosen him over J.J.? I can make that happen! I can make Keith her Scare Pair!

  “I totally get why Carrie would have a crush on Keith Hamilton now,” Taylor says, “but then?”

  “Come on, look at her taste,” Jack says. “She had a huge crush on J.J.”

  “Thanks,” J.J. says. “You’re a good friend.”

  “Hey, we all had crazy crushes in high school,” Future Me says. “I liked Sean.”

  Reenzie raises her hand. “Guilty.”

  “Doesn’t count as a crazy crush when you’ve both been back to the well within the last year,” Sean counters.

  “Ew,” I say, but Future Me and Reenzie just look at each other and shrug, admitting he has a point. Clearly what Sean said isn’t news to either of us.

 
; “I had a major crush in high school,” Jack says.

  “Somebody ask him who!” I shout to all my friends. “I need to know for the Scare Pair!”

  “Well, yeah,” Reenzie says, rolling her eyes. “You were in love with Carrie.”

  “Hello! Do I need to come out to you again? Carrie was a cover!” Jack says.

  “For who?” Taylor asks. “Who did you have a crush on?”

  “Thank you, Taylor!” I proclaim. Then I move closer to Jack to make sure I hear it right.

  Jack gets a dreamy look in his eyes and smiles. “Tom Watson.”

  “Tom Watson!” Future Me and I shout together. I feel good that I seem to have so much in common with my future self. Then she continues without me. “You could have totally had him! He was out!”

  “Yes, but I wasn’t,” Jack says. Then his smile widens. “He made me wish I was, though.”

  I grin right back at him. I’m totally going to make his high school dreams come true.

  “You know my big high school crush,” Taylor says. “Mr. Ryan Not-Gay-at-All Darby.”

  “Oh, he’s gay,” Jack says matter-of-factly. “I ran into him at a gay bar in Boston.”

  “I knew it!” Reenzie crows. “Up top, Autumn.”

  Future Me and Reenzie are about ten feet away from each other but lift their hands in an air high five.

  “I had a crush in high school,” J.J. says.

  Future Me echoes me again as we both turn bright red. Reenzie rolls her eyes. “Yeah, we know.”

  “No,” J.J. says. “Other than that. I never told any of you guys. Mariah Amhari.”

  “You totally told me that!” Future Me says. “But you said you just liked that her name was an anagram.”

  “Because by the time I told you that, I had other crushes,” he says pointedly. “Freshman year before I dated Carrie? Major Mariah obsession.”

  “Were you still interested in her senior year?” I ask. “Enough to leave Carrie if Mariah was your Scare Pair?”

  “Hi, everyone!” calls an absurdly high-pitched voice. It’s Carrie coming out the back slider. Carrie plus thirty pounds. Which I guess makes sense because while J.J. has one baby, she’s holding another one!