Forget Tomorrow

by Pintip Dunn

  I reach for the only argument I have left. “If FuMA finds out Logan broke me out of detainment, they’ll arrest him.”

  Mikey’s pupils widen. In them, I see the soul-splitting scream that will tear through us both should such a thing happen. If they know he managed an escape before, FuMA will throw Logan in a cell where there’ll be no hope of breaking him out. He’ll spend the rest of his days rotting in an above-ground grave.

  “He’ll be fine.” Mikey wipes a hand across his brow. “My parents will swear on their lives he’s been sick at home. We have doctors in the Underground who will have no problem coming up with fake documents.”

  “You’ll risk his life on that assumption?” I’m trying to guilt him, and I feel bad about it, but I can’t give Logan up. Not now. Not after I finally let my feelings out.

  “Yes.” Mikey sets his jaw, the hard edges of bone visible through the taut stretch of his skin. “Your future memory has already destroyed one life. Don’t destroy the rest of Harmony, too.”

  I sway, flinging my arms out to hold onto something, anything. I close my hands around a sapling, gasping. Because with those words, he steals my breath, melts my muscles, upends my world. With a single sentence, Mikey wins.

  In my future memory, I will kill my sister. I cannot—I will not—be responsible for the destruction of Harmony, too. Mikey knows this. He knows that with this argument, I’ll have to let Logan go.

  Slowly but surely, I wall myself back up. I begin the long process of blocking away the feelings I had foolishly allowed to run free. It might take minutes or maybe even years, but I can’t allow myself to have feelings for Logan.

  If he’s leaving, I need to be prepared.

  “I could stay,” Logan says uncertainly. “I don’t have to listen to my brother.”

  We’re back at the clearing, sitting on the log. Mikey gave Logan the cattail torch as we left, but there’s no holder out here, so he dug a hole in the ground with his fingers and stuck the torch inside. The flame illuminates us clearly from the knees down. I can see the dirt caked in his shoelaces, but his face is nothing but hazy lines and different shades of darkness.

  Yes! I want to shout with every ounce of my being. Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me the very day I finally let my guard down. Don’t leave me here without anyone to love. Fate’s already ripped away my mom and my sister. Don’t you go, too.

  Just a few hours ago, I might have said these words. I might have allowed myself to beg. But not now. Not when the darkness between us might as well be solid. I want to reach out, see the creases in his forehead with my fingers, but I can’t. The invisible wall between us keeps out more than my sight.

  “Your future’s back in Eden City,” I mumble, trying to convince myself I believe what I’m saying. Trying not to be so damn-the-Fates selfish. “You’re meant to be a gold-star swimmer.”

  “You don’t understand.” His heel moves up and down with so much force that bits of dirt fly off his shoe. “The swimming was always Mikey’s goal for me. Never mine. I only do it for fun. I don’t need the awards or accolades.”

  For a moment, hope flares in me, shiny and bright. The extent of my selfishness makes me dizzy with disgust, but I can’t help myself. Even as I loathe myself for trying, the words pour out of me, searching, reaching, grasping for another solution. One that will keep Logan here with me—and save Harmony, too. “If you stayed, how would we communicate with Harmony?”

  “We could send messages the old-fashioned way,” he says. “We could leave notes for the Underground at the meeting point, and they could fulfill the supply order that way.”

  And just like that, my hope is snuffed out by the weight of logic. “That’s not very practical. Think how long it took for us to travel here. Maybe it’s faster on the way back, traveling with the current, but still, you’re looking at a trip of three days just to leave one note. How often does Mikey send a message?”

  “Two, maybe three times a week,” he admits. “But we could take turns. Set up a rotation system, the way we do with the hot water. We could make it work.”

  I smile sadly. “You’re really going to ask an entire community to sacrifice so that we can be together?”

  His heel stops moving. “When you put it like that, it does seem a little selfish.”

  “A lot selfish.”

  We fall silent. Earlier today, he decided to stay. He asked me not to argue with him. He asked me… The word gets stuck in my chest, and it’s almost too painful to think. He asked me to be his girlfriend.

  And now, we’re nothing. Two people who could’ve meant something to each other, in another world, in another time.

  I shift my body to face him. A gnarled knot on the log jabs me in the thigh, but I stay where I am, trying to separate his face from the shadows. “You know the guilt you felt over not stopping your brother’s arrest?” I ask softly. “Maybe this is your chance to make it up to him.”

  Abruptly, he leaps to his feet and strides to the torch. The fire glows around his body, engulfing him in flames. “I’ll never be able to make it up to him.”

  “Why not? You were just a kid. There was nothing you could’ve done. Surely you can see that now.”

  He turns, and his face emerges in the light of the fire. I see in his expression the ravages of a hundred sleepless nights. Years of self-recrimination. “You know what? I should go back to Eden City. I should do exactly what Mikey says, what Mikey wants. And even then, I’ll still owe him more than I can repay in a single lifetime.” He presses his fingers into the corners of his eyes. “I told you more than I’ve ever told anybody. But I didn’t tell you the whole truth.”

  I still. “What are you talking about?”

  He takes a deep breath. The air stirs the fire, and the flames reach their fingers into the sky. “I was on the racquetball court that day, with Mikey and his friends. They were bigger than me, better than me. I kept getting tossed to the side like a brown paper bag. So I made the ball float high above our heads, spinning and bouncing, tracing figure eights. I thought the others would be impressed. Instead, they backed away from me and Mikey and ran to tell the teachers.”

  My mind whirls. “You mean you were the one who made the ball float?”

  “Yeah. Telekinesis is my preliminary ability, not Mikey’s. He was just covering for me. TechRA came to arrest him, and I stood there and let him take the blame.” His lip quivers. “Don’t you see? It’s my fault he’s here. Because of me, he lost everything.”

  Words have fled me. The only thing left is the knowledge that runs from his eyes, flowing into the lines of his forehead and the clench in his jaw.

  “I’m sure Mikey’s forgiven you,” I say, but the words blow away like fallen leaves in the breeze.

  “That doesn’t matter. Because I haven’t forgiven myself. And that’s why I have to go back,” he says, his voice filled with resolve. “I see that now. I don’t know what I was thinking. There’s no way I can stay. No way I’m going to ruin my brother’s life any more than I already have.”

  I should be happy. This is what I wanted. This is what I was trying to convince him to do. And yet, I feel a hundred times worse than I did before.

  31

  The shore is an empty stretch of mud and grass that slopes into the cloudy water. I search the river’s surface for the reflection of the moon. It would reassure me to see twin moons, round and unblemished, one holding court in the sky and the other one shimmering below it.

  But the water is too choppy and dices up any reflection into a million pieces. My heart aches. How can Logan leave me? How can we accept Mikey’s answer without searching for another solution? I thought we had something special. I thought what we had you don’t find every day.

  I bend down and pick up a flat stone. Pulling my hand back, I launch the rock onto the river, trying to skip it along the water. But the current is too strong and swallows the rock whole.

  Thousands of questions hover in the air. I can pluck any of them from the s
ky, but one pushes its way to the front, demanding an answer.

  Do I love him?

  Yes, my heart screams. I’ve always loved him. Always.

  No, my mind retaliates, determined to keep that wall in place. I don’t love him. I can’t. Logan and I have just reconnected. We have so much more to learn about each other. I don’t even know what love means anymore.

  I thought I loved Jessa. From the time my sister scrunched her wrinkled red face at me, her tiny fists pummeling the air, I loved her. Her hand wrapped around my finger, squeezing with uncanny strength, and I swore I would never let any harm come to her.

  I was wrong. I thought love trumped everything. But now I know there’s something in this world stronger than love. Something out there that can make me decide to take my sister’s life. This force made me weigh everything—the birthmark like a splotch of paint at her waist, the way she alternates bites from two halves of a sandwich, her cat-like whimpers when she has a nightmare—and choose death over love.

  I pick up another rock, tossing it from one hand to the other. A fine dusting of dirt coats my hands, and the rock slips through my fingers and lands on the ground.

  If I can’t understand something as simple as loving my sister, how am I supposed to know what it means to love a boy? And with Logan leaving in two days, is it even worth trying to figure out?

  Dawn encroaches and the darkness fades. The diffuse light turns into actual sunshine. I dry the tears from my face, get dressed, and make my way back to the river. The fishermen are clustered by the shore, yelling and cheering. Spotting Brayden’s lanky frame, I walk to the group. “What’s going on?”

  Brayden turns to me. He’s sewn strips of cloth to his ball cap to shield his neck from the sun. “A race.” He gestures to the river. Two figures slice through the waves, their powerful upper bodies rising above the water like dolphins. The cloudless blue sky shimmers overhead, and a flock of birds flies low over the river, as if they, too, hope for a view of the swimmers.

  “Pride, honor, and a ration of deer jerky are at stake. Before Logan got here, see, Don was king of the water. The first time I met him, he asked me to call him Poseidon. Get it? Posei-Don.” He rolls his eyes. “I told him I’d call him ‘poser.’ I guess he got sick of everyone talking about Logan’s speed in the water, ’cause he challenged our friend to a race. They’re swimming ten laps to the crab traps and back, dragging in a load each time. Whoever finishes first wins.”

  I squint at the water. Is that Logan’s head? The figures are too far away, so I can’t be sure. “Who’s winning?”

  “Who do you think?” He grins. “My man Logan! It’s not even close. He’s already beating Don by over two laps.”

  Well, of course he is. He’s not a future gold-star swimmer for nothing. I always knew Logan was good in the water. But I didn’t know he was this good. Even if his future memory didn’t prove his potential by showing him in the final heat, he would make the national team on his own merit. He’s that talented.

  He has a brilliant future ahead of him in civilization. His memory says so, and if I needed any other proof, it’s right in front of me. He’ll have prestige and power. He’ll be a celebrity with a lifestyle to match.

  My knees feel like the tallow Angela uses to light the lamps. This is why Mikey wants him to return. Not only is he essential to Harmony, but this is the future that would be taken away from him if he stayed.

  A swimmer approaches the shore, a net billowing in the current beside him, and I no longer have any doubt about his identity. Who else could look so beautiful in the water? Strong, steady, sure—like a sea creature that blossoms to full potential in his natural habitat.

  Mikey’s right. It’s not about whether or not we can find another way to communicate with the Underground. This isn’t the kind of talent to be wasted in Harmony. The most he can be here is a really good fisherman. Back in civilization, he could be somebody important. He could single-handedly save Harmony by stocking the backpacks. He could have the entire nation cheering him on to a gold-star win.

  I place a hand on my forehead, as the ground tries to rise up to meet me.

  “Are you okay?” Brayden’s freckles swim in front of my face.

  “Just dizzy.” I stumble, and he wraps his arm around me, holding me up.

  The real danger here is my selfish nature. I wanted to hold him in Harmony, in the middle of nowhere, and I almost begged him to stay. The thought of losing him slices through me. And yet, it’s not about me.

  The dizziness passes, and I look up. Brayden’s face hovers inches from mine. The excitement in his eyes has faded, replaced by an unusual seriousness. He’s read my thoughts.

  “It’s the right thing to do,” he says softly. “He’s going to be a star, Callie.”

  I nod, brushing the tears off my cheeks. For once, I see the advantage of a friend who can read my mind. Brayden knows how I feel, and I didn’t have to say a word.

  Impulsively, I lean forward and kiss his cheek. “Thank you. For understanding me.”

  Brayden blushes. “I didn’t mean to read your mind, but I was worried.”

  “I’m glad you did.”

  The crowd erupts in applause and Logan pulls himself out of the river. He tosses the last net into the pile, and the fishermen converge on him, pumping his hand and slapping his back. Logan steps right through them and walks toward us.

  “Great job, man. That was amazing!” Brayden extends his hand to Logan, his arm still slung around my shoulders.

  Logan takes his hand, but he doesn’t smile, doesn’t respond. His lips march across his face as straight as a ruler. He just won a race. He should be skipping across water. Instead, he looks like his cat just died and was served up in one of Angela’s stews.

  Brayden sneaks a look at me, and I shrug. I’ve never seen Logan like this either. His bad mood fills the silence, creeping into the nook between my shoulder and Brayden’s hand.

  A half dozen uncomfortable beats later, Brayden snatches his arm away. “Oh, well, I’d better get going. Catch you later, at dinner, maybe?” Without waiting for a response, he hurries to the supply shed. Can’t blame him. If it were anyone else, I’d run away, too.

  I face Logan. Water beads on his bare chest, and his muscles look even bigger than usual after the workout. “You were…” I search for the right word. Effortless? Inspiring? Sensational? “Right. Someone as talented as you belongs back in civilization.”

  His upper lip curls, and for an instant he looks just like his brother. “I don’t want to talk about my talent right now.”

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  He opens his mouth, but a gust of wind batters us, stealing his words before they can be said. He gives me a tortured look—one that gathers up my insides and runs them through a meat grinder—and walks away.

  I watch him go. Heat pricks my eyes, but I refuse to cry. I don’t know what just happened. I don’t know why he left. But tears are like the water that drips in a cave. They may seem like nothing at the time, but over the years, the hurt builds up and turns you as hard as the stalactites in a cave.

  I only have one more day with him, and I will not waste it on a misunderstanding.

  “Logan, wait.” I run after him, and when he turns, I don’t worry about putting myself out there. I don’t care about embarrassment or pride. I fling myself into his arms because that’s where I belong, whether or not he’s here tomorrow. “Talk to me, please. Why are you acting like this?”

  His arms wrap around me, thank the Fates. The river on his skin soaks through my clothes, and the plant bracelet on his wrist presses into my back.

  He doesn’t say anything, and it’s almost enough just to be in his embrace. It’s almost enough that the icicle walls have melted between us, almost enough that I can put my head on his chest and sync our vital signs.

  But it’s not enough. Because I care about this boy when he’s at his best and when he’s at his worst. If he’s hurting, I want to know why.<
br />
  “You didn’t talk to me for five years,” I say. “And we lost forever that time we could’ve had. I can’t bear it if we lose today, too.”

  He buries his face against my neck, his breath tangling in the maze of my hair. “I’m an idiot.”

  “Only when you won’t talk to me.”

  His lips vibrate against my skin. I don’t know if he’s laughing or kissing me. I don’t think I care.

  “When I came out of the water, I saw you with Brayden,” he says in a low voice. “And I didn’t even care about winning. All I wanted to do was rip his head off.”

  “I’m not interested in Brayden.”

  “Not yet. But when I’m gone, all these guys will be after you.” He pulls back. His mouth tugs down at the corners. He looks as lost as Jessa the day she misplaced her purple dog, Princess. As sad as I was the night I staked out our driveway and my father never came home.

  “One day, you’ll choose someone,” he says. “And it won’t be me.”

  “Oh, Logan.” I lunge into him. I’d turn our arms into manacles if I could. Electro-cuff us together for the rest of eternity. But I can’t. “I hate this situation so much. But this is how it has to be. You belong in civilization, and I belong here. We have to find a way to live with it.”

  He nestles his chin on my head and we fit together perfectly, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Perfectly, like two halves of a broken heart.

  “What if we can’t?” he whispers.

  I don’t have an answer.

  My life was shattered in an instant, with a single memory sent from the future. Since I came to Harmony, I’ve been trying to put myself back together. Gathering the pieces. Laying the foundation for my new life, the one I was supposed to build with Logan. But just as I let myself feel at home in Harmony, my true home was taken from me.

  And now the boy I love is leaving, and I’m right back where I started—with a million questions and not one good answer.