It's surreal, Ty thinks as he stands outside what would have been his high school gymnasium dressed in what would have been his graduation robes holding what would have been the cover to his high school diploma. Despite everything, he still feels that same sense of closure, of accomplishment. It is coming to an end.
Seniors! 1 day left!
Ivy looks terrible. The girls are dressed alike in white robes that balloon out and make them resemble hundreds of marshmallows. She's teetering precariously on heels when she spots him and stumbles toward him, tripping over the bottom of her robe. Ty sweeps in and catches her before she hits the ground.
"Hey there, Tim," she says, grinning brightly. "Pick up your pretend diploma?"
"No point, is there?" Ty asks, propping her back onto her feet. "Never did go to this school."
"Aw," Ivy says, clutching her degree to her chest. "Don't you want a memento from the school you're pretending to graduate from? It's only right. You went through the rehearsals from hell."
"Ivy!" a voice calls. "Ivy Lane, you're a high school graduate!"
A pair of students race over. One is a tall dark-haired girl with blue eyes and the other is a heavyset blond guy in blue robes. In one hand, the girl is carrying her heels and a diploma. The fingers of her other hand are laced together with the boy's.
"Syd! Bryce!" Ivy cries, hugging them both in turn. "We actually made it."
Sydney's eyes lock on Ty, giving him the once-over. "Never seen you before."
"Right," Ivy says, glancing first at Ty and then back at Sydney. "Sydney, Bryce, this is Timothy Langerhanz. He's an undercover agent from a secret government organization that has infiltrated our graduation. Isn't that right, Tim?"
"One hundred percent," Ty says, without batting an eyelash. "Seems Miss Lane wasn't the best confidante."
"Oh, I like him," Sydney says, studying Ty critically. "Little on the plain side, sure, but you can work with that. Where you been hiding him, girl?"
Ivy shakes her head at the absurdity of it all. "Graduation rehearsal." She raises her diploma in a toast. "Here's to Lewis Baker. Biggest school in the state. Funny how I'd never even met the guy sitting next to me."
"That's a shame," Sydney says, looking at Ty. Unbidden, Ty feels a hot blush sweep his cheeks. Sydney smiles. "He's cute when he's embarrassed."
"Should I be worried here?" Bryce asks, looping his arm around her waist. "You looking to make a move on him?"
"Always worry, Bryce," Sydney teases. "I'm still on the lookout for something better."
Ty shakes his head and pushes back his robes far enough to shove his hands into his pockets.
"I'm having a graduation party starting around four," Sydney continues. "It would be excellent to have some people outside of relatives and neighbors attending. You're both welcome to come by."
"Sure thing," Ivy says. "I'll have to put in some family time of my own, but I'll make it. How about you, Tim?"
Ty shrugs, trying to play it nonchalant. "Got nothing better worth doing."
"Fantastic," Sydney says, "See you guys there."
Ivy flashes her a smile. Ty feels a stone drop in the pit of his stomach. A tikker attack at a graduation party. This is how it will happen.
Ivy Lane is beside him now, smiling and happy and alive, her whole future paved out in front of her.
And today is the day she is going to die.
"You know what I think?" says Jones Longwood one night when Ty is in the hazy place between wakefulness and dreams. "I think time's a hell of a lot more flexible than we give it credit for."
It's past four o'clock in the morning. Ty rolls over in his bed, forcing his eyes open. "What are you on about?"
"Think at it." Jones is lying in his bed, hands folded behind his head. His face is bathed in the faint green light that lines the edges of the room. "Look at scrubbing. They tell us scrubbers remove us from the timeline. Never was a Jones Longwood out a 2228. But that's a paradox acause I'm right here, existing."
"What's your point?" Ty asks.
Jones sits up. The whites of his eyes stand out starkly against his dark skin, the only feature Ty can make out through the gloom. "You know why they call it Timewise?"
"Jones," Ty groans. "It's late. Or early. It's—"
"You know why they call it Timewise?" Jones repeats.
"No," mumbles Ty. "Prolly some sort of acronym or something."
"Nah," Jones says. "They call it Timewise acause a guy called Harrison Wise founded the place."
"Never heard of Harrison Wise," Ty says.
"That's acause they don't teach on him elsemore. Had to dig on it to find anything." Jones says, eyes shining in the dim green light. "Harrison Wise founded the place in 2289 and disappeared ten years after. Not a sign of him until some bottom-level research tech finds him in a newspaper obit dating 2034." Jones flops back down on his bed. "Been living pastside for thirty odd years. So much for protect and maintain the timeline."
"What's your point?" Ty asks.
"Figure me that maybe there isn't any dire need to protect the timeline like they say. Maybe the tikkers aren't any danger. Maybe this entire operation is just a way to get a few people up top rich. Because, by my counting, time's a lot more flexible than they preach. Way they say it, you step on a butterfly, you wipe out everything."
"So don't step on butterflies," Ty says.
"That's not my point," Jones says. "My point is we do shitful more than step on butterflies. What do you think on that?"
Ty rolls over in his bed to stare at Jones across the room. "I think you need to get out of the two-twenties and get back to sleep."
Jones is quiet for a long moment. Ty turns back over in bed, facing the wall rather than his roommate. He can hear Jones' breathing, heavy in the still air. Finally Jones says, "Forget it. Night, Smith."
Jones drifts off fairly quickly, but Ty can't, not quite. His roommate's words echo in the depths of his mind until that's all he can hear.
After fleeing the house where his dead father lives and the room that isn't yet his, Tyler Smith spends a day and a half in 1989. For two nights he sleeps in the field outside the newly minted Lewis Baker Secondary school and wakes up with the sun, clothes damp with the morning dew.
He's got a gnawing hunger in his gut. It's been more than a day since he's eaten and he's a little lightheaded. He wants to go home, but he can't yet because home won't even exist for another five years, at least not the home he knows.
He pushes himself up from the damp ground, trying not to notice the musty smell of earth saturating his clothes. Time travel. He still can't quite believe it, but here he is, trapped in the past with no hope of seeing his present.
The girl finds him three blocks outside the school. "Ty Smith!" she calls hesitantly.
When Tyler turns around, there's disappointment etched across her lovely face.
She is older than he is, about twenty if he has to guess, with long honey-blond hair peeking out from the back of a baseball cap. She's got pleasant features, stunning even, with high, sharp cheekbones, cupid's bow lips and eyes bluer than the sky itself.
"I'm Tyler Smith," he says.
"Anne Gallagher." Looking him up and down, she rolls her eyes and says, "Fucking time loops."
"You know who I am?" Tyler asks, because at this point, nothing will surprise him. "Have I even met you before?"
"Yes and no," the girl says, pressing her hands to her temples as if combating a headache. "Listen, Ty, you heard of Timewise?"
"Timewise?" he repeats dumbly. "No. What's a Timewise?"
"If you don't know, I can't tell you," she says. "Listen, I've met you before. Looking for you right now. Just not—" She gestures vaguely with one hand. "Just not this you. Picked up on the wrong Ty Smith, I appose. Both of you out of time."
"My name is Tyler," he says.
"See, what I mean? I'm looking for a Ty Smith. Not Tyler. Wrong guy." She smiles at him, or at very least bares her teeth. "I don't appose you've seen a gr
eat tall fellow 'round. Dark hair, dark eyes. Looks like you actually."
"Only one of me," Tyler says.
"Right," Anne says slowly. "Sure. You probably don't understand this a bit. Skorry to bother you."
She starts moving away from him at a remarkably quick clip. Tyler has to jog by her side to keep up. Not for the first time, he curses his diminutive stature.
"Wait!" he cries. "I'm stuck! I just woke up here and I don't know how to go back. And I have to go back. I haven't even been born yet. I can't stay here."
"Don't see what you're wanting me to do," Anne says, shoving her hands in her pockets.
"You can do it too," he guesses and the look in her eyes confirms it. "You can go back and forth in time. You have to help me get back home."
"I've got places to be," she says briskly. "I've got you — another you, that is — to find. Don't have a tick to spare."
"Please," Tyler says, pleading now. He doesn't think he can stomach another day here. He can't watch these people moving around with the knowledge that this life is nothing but a rerun. "I can't stay here."
Anne heaves a sigh. "Fine. Let's do this. You've got a close your eyes."
Tyler obeys immediately, shutting out the world in favor of the oblivion that is the darkness. Anne's voice drifts slowly to his ears, riding the breeze, syrupy sweet.
"Now, think on your right time," she says. "Should be grounded there. Find it and imagine it's right here. You're going to feel something like slipping and you have to let it start happening. Go down with it. Track it."
"I don't feel anything," Tyler whispers. "Never did. I just woke up here and it was cold."
"Don't appose so," Anne replies and Tyler can hear the frown in her voice. "Had the same trouble getting back pastside. Guessing I could try."
She presses her hand against his back and Tyler can feel it through the dampness of his shirt. Her hands are cold, freezing despite the heat outside. "Down goes nothing," she mutters.
She pushes him with all her might.
And then he's falling, slipping through time, back to the present and the knowledge that he's been missing for two days.
Ivy Lane lives on Harrison Street, a quaint street in the suburbs nestled in the bowels of a neighborhood called the Oaks. Ty used to live here too, in a little house two doors down from Ivy.
He is standing in front of his old house now, staring at the manicured lawn, the oak trees, the redbrick front, the well-worn siding. He used to be part of this little picture of suburban bliss.
Do the Smiths still live in the same house? Can Ty go knock at the door and say hello to his mom and his sister? Can he go back and pretend he had never left? Erica would be graduating college by his count and he's missed it, missed everything.
"Don't know why I'm surprised to see you here," Ivy says. She's changed out of her graduation robes into a pair of jean shorts and a navy tank top. Ty feels out of place still wearing his leather jacket and jeans. He's icy cold. The battle, the attack, it's going to happen soon, and Ty's got to be ready if he intends to make a difference.
He points toward his old house. "Who lives there?"
Ivy shrugs. "Family called the Danners. Moved in three or so years ago after the Smiths left." Her eyes narrow in suspicion. "Why are you asking?"
Ty fights to speak around the lump in his throat. "No reason."
"I don't get you," Ivy says. "Super-secret government agent hanging around a highschool graduation. You're barely older than I am."
"Age eighteen," Ty says.
"No way you got recruited that young," Ivy says. "I'm going to want your story, you know."
"It's a long one," Ty says, "Besides, don't we have to get to your friend's party?"
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he curses them. But then Ivy grabs his hand, fingers linking with his own and everything else flies out of his mind.
Her hands are warm and he likes to think that some of the ice that haunts him thaws at her touch. She's grinning brightly at him, and he can't do anything but smile back and let her lead him down the street.
Sydney King's house is a half-mile walk from Harrison Street. Balloons decorate the mailbox and a sign over the door reads, Congratulations Graduate! Ivy leads him around back and into the Kings' spacious yard. A big wooden picnic table is on the patio, filled to the brim with food. There are watermelons, hot dogs, burgers, deviled eggs, cookies, cake, chips, salsa, apples, strawberries, pineapples, potato salad. . .
"See," Sydney says, coming up behind them. She's wearing a white dress with her long hair half up and half down. "I told you, the more the merrier. There's no way we can eat all this on our own. Ivy, your folks coming?"
Ivy nods, grabbing a slice of watermelon from the table. "Yeah, they'll be here in an hour or so. I think they needed a few minutes to collect themselves. Bigger day for them than it was for me."
Sydney rolls her eyes. "If our folks remembered what kind of hell high school was, they wouldn't be so sad to see us leave."
Ivy laughs her agreement. Sticky trails of watermelon juice run down either side of her mouth. For a moment, Ty can't see anything else.
"Where are your parents, Tim?" Sydney asks, "They're welcome to stop by as well. We have more than enough food to go around."
"They're around," Ty lies. "Not really partygoers. We'll have a quiet thing later acorse."
"Acorse," Sydney repeats. "Listen to this guy, Ivy. I love it. Where've you been hiding him?"
Ivy shrugs. "We just met, Syd. Really."
"Whatever you say, Lane," Sydney says. She grins as she waves at someone over their shoulders. "Love to stay and chat, but I've got to mingle."
Ivy glances to Ty at her side. "You know she thinks we're going out, right?"
Ty feels a hot blush creeping up his neck. "That so?" he chokes.
"She's bat-shit insane," Ivy says. "I'm letting you tag along because I want the story behind this mysterious organization thing. You'll tell me everything eventually."
"Maybe," Ty chokes. "Someday."
Ivy Lane is going to die today. Until now, the situation had been an abstract notion but it is settling quickly into hard fact. Ty watches as Ivy moves away from him and into the crowd of people and the world that should have been his too. He's enthralled with her, the way she smiles, the way she moves.
"How's it on, Ty?" someone asks.
He's jerked back into reality with uncomfortable speed. Annie Gallagher is standing next to him, wearing a baggy white T-shirt big enough to conceal a weapon and an old pair of jeans. Her hair is tied up in a ponytail that sways in the light breeze.
"What are you doing here, Gallagher?" Ty asks.
"What?" She grabs a strawberry off the table and bites into it with a moan of delight. "Think you'd be the only one Spense sent to keep a look at this time? Too big a job for one." She follows his gaze, eyes landing on Ivy. "Is that her? Ivy Lane? Thought she'd be taller if I'm honest. Introduce us?"
"Go hellside, Gallagher," Ty spits.
"C'mon, Ty," she says, mock pleading. "We'll call me your sister. You and Tucker used to pull this con over easy."
"We're on a job, Gallagher," Ty says. "In case you've forgotten, all hell's going to cut loose in a few moments and you want your taste of history."
"Fine," Annie snaps. "It's going to start here. Hell cut loose, like you said. Us two are the first line. Numbers will be up soon. Elsemore, they'll be tikkers as well. I'll get in position and get ready for a fight. You best drop the tryst with dear Ivy Lane and do likewise."
He can feel it now, the cold gathering like a thunderstorm on a warm summer day. He places his hand on the stunner in his pocket, on the switchblade. Annie disappears into the crowd almost as quickly as she'd come. Ty's head is throbbing. He pushes his way through excited graduates and proud parents until he reaches Ivy. He grabs her arm and turns her away from her friends.
"Tim," she tries to shake him off, but Ty won't let go. The physical contact is the only thing keepin
g him grounded. (if he lets go, she'll be gone) "What's wrong, Tim?"
"Ivy," Ty says with much more composure than he feels. "I've got to talk at you. Now."
"I'm busy," Ivy says.
"Please," Ty pleads. "Ivy, it's important."
She turns back to her friends, politely excuses herself from the conversation and lets him lead her to a secluded section of the yard. Only then does she shake his arm off. "I don't have time for this, Tim. So unless you're going to be straight with me, I don't want to hear it."
"You're going to die," Ty says. "Not long now."
"Not exactly inspiring me with confidence right now, Tim," she spits out. "Starting to think I may need to call the cops on you."
"You have to trust me," Ty says. "In a few minutes, things are going to get bad, and you can't be here when it happens."
"Trust you?" Ivy repeats. "What reason have you given me to do that? You haven't told me anything about who you are or what you're doing here, and now you say I'm in danger. Tell me why, Tim. If you want me to trust you, you have to give me a reason."
"Ivy, please," Ty pleads. What can he tell her? That he's a Timewise agent from the future come back to stop her death – that he's risking the fabric of reality, his entire career for her? "Even if I could tell you, you wouldn't believe me."
"So try, Tim," she says, green eyes shining in earnest. "Try."
A crash rings out behind them. Someone screams. Ty looks at her and says, "Ivy, please, you can't go back there."
"Why the hell not?"
"Please," Ty pleads. "Please, Ivy."
"You still haven't given me one reason to trust—"
Ty dips his head, cups her cheek and kisses her. It's nothing like the first time where they were both young and innocent and too afraid to feel anything. Ty closes his eyes and pours everything he can into the kiss: his hopes, dreams, desperations, desires and regrets. He tries to memorize the taste of her lips, the smell of her hair, the feel of his hands on her cheeks. He wants this moment to last forever – no, longer. He wishes he could freeze this moment so it could exist forever like the battle that is starting right now not even twenty feet from them.
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