by D. S. Murphy
The news cycle attacked Tamara for inciting violence, replaying her TV appearance along with a grim photo of Eric, frowning and wearing a dark hoodie. “Civilization will be decimated. Billions of people will die. The man behind it is Kyle Peters, and he must be stopped, at all costs. Stop Kyle Peters, save the world.”
Everyone believed that Eric got his hands on some powerful acid, snuck into Zamonta on his own, and killed Peters in the misguided belief that he was protecting humanity. Tamara’s reputation, meanwhile, was shattered. She was spending less time at home, sorting through her own problems. At least we still had the lottery money. We hadn’t heard anything about a lawsuit since Kyle’s death. When things died down, Tamara could try and appease her conscience with more donations. I didn’t care what she did with it. It didn’t matter now.
The day of winter formal arrived with a halo of uncertainty. I’d left my gray dress hanging out all week—a reminder of what could have been. Sometimes I ran my fingers over the smooth fabric, imagining a gorgeous boy with a heart-melting smile, holding me in his arms as we danced around a finely decorated room with our closest friends. It would be nice to feel beautiful. Not for Brett or anyone else, but for me. Someone to be admired, even loved. But that was a fairy tale. I’d have to get used to being ordinary again.
I sighed and tucked the dress into my closet. Even if Brett didn’t blame me directly, he knew the truth about Tamara’s prophecies. He knew that I was the villain behind his father’s death, even if he didn’t know I killed him personally. That vision I had of us ending up together—that was before. In the alternate future, the one with mods and the destruction of the human race. It was gone now. I’d given up my own happiness and saved everybody. I hadn’t done it on purpose, but it had to count for something.
I’d just nuked a TV dinner when I heard the honking. It started down the street but sounded like it was getting closer. A lot closer. I went to the window just in time to see Brett’s jeep pull up to the curb. Cody was driving, and Chrys beamed at me from the backseat, wearing the princess blue dress she’d bought. Cody looked sharp in a suit and tie. But I barely registered the two of them, next to Brett. He was standing up on the passenger seat like it was a chariot, in a black tux, holding a dozen roses. Before the wheels had even stopped rolling, he jumped off and bowed with a flourish. I opened the door and was halfway across the yard when I realized I was still wearing sweats.
“What’s all this?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious. I crossed my arms.
“A grand romantic gesture,” Brett said, rubbing the back of his neck. “At least I hope it is.”
“I wasn’t expecting you.”
“Clearly,” Brett grinned, nodding towards my sweats.
“I mean, I didn’t think you’d still want to go. With me.”
Brett sighed and took a few steps closer.
“I’m sorry,” he said. He offered me the roses but I didn’t reach for them.
“I’ll admit, I was angry at first. Angry at everything. Eric, Tamara, but you most of all. I always felt like you were asking me to choose, between you and my dad. I felt torn. I’ve been miserable since my dad died, but I realized something funny this morning, I didn’t just miss my dad. I missed you. And when I thought about you and me, together, at the dance—I felt better. Hopeful, almost happy. I don’t have all the answers, but I can’t help the way I feel about you. Plus, what kind of guy would I be if I asked a girl to a dance and then stood her up? There’s no excuse for that kind of behavior.”
“You couldn’t have said all that in a text?” I asked, the tiniest of smirks playing on my lips.
Brett read the humor in my eyes and leaned forward even more, whispering in my ear.
“Some things are better said in person.”
He took my hand and this time I accepted the bouquet of roses from him, lifting them to my lips to hide the smile I was afraid would tear me apart.
“So are we doing this or what?” Cody yelled from the jeep.
Chrys jumped out of the back seat and ran towards us. Her hug was so fierce we almost fell over together. Then she grabbed my arm and tugged me inside.
“Back in ten minutes gentlemen,” she shouted over her shoulder.
“Ten minutes?” I repeated under my breath. “How are you going to pull off that miracle?”
Chrys grinned and shoved me inside. I changed into the dress and let Chrys guide me into the bathroom so she could fix my hair and makeup. I hadn’t talked to her for days, and now she was pretending everything was fine. The silence felt so heavy, like a balloon that was filling up all the space and forcing us apart.
“Chrys,” I started.
“Not now,” she said. The bobby pins she was holding between her lips danced when she spoke. “We’ll have plenty of time to catch up after the dance. Tonight let’s just be the fabulous sophomore girls who’ve been invited to the dance by the hot seniors. Deal?”
“Deal,” I smiled back, linking my pinky finger in hers. I sat still while she fluttered around me with brushes and pencils.
“Perfect!” Chrys exclaimed, putting down the mascara and examining her canvas. “You’re ready.”
She spun me around to face the mirror and my eyes widened. The glass revealed an almost unrecognizable version of me. The strapless gray dress hugged my figure, brushing the floor slightly. It sparkled in the light like silver. My lips were dark red and stood out against my light hair. Chrys smiled and put her hands on my shoulders.
“Who knew you could look this good,” she said, admiring her work.
I turned at an angle and blinked at my reflection. “I look…”
Chrys rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” she said, waving away my words. “You look great. Hurry up and put on your shoes.”
Chrys fastened the straps of my heels and ran downstairs. She said she wanted me to descend the staircase like “in those cheesy teen movies.” I laughed, but she was serious. I walked as elegantly as possible down the staircase, trying not to fall. My dad beamed up at me with a proud expression, and pulled me into a hug when I reached the bottom.
“You look beautiful, Sweetheart.”
Tears welled up in my eyes, but I took a deep breath to hold them in. I had to stop getting emotional about everything. Chrys pulled us apart and slapped dad on the arm.
“You’re going to make her ruin her makeup.”
I was about to thank her when I heard Brett’s voice call from the front door.
“Are you two ready yet—” his voice cut out when he saw me, like someone knocked the wind out of him. His eyes traveled down my body and back up to my face, as if he were seeing me for the first time. My cheeks reddened under his gaze. I fidgeted with my dress and rubbed my arm, feeling exposed for some reason.
Brett walked up to me and smiled. “You look…” He shook his head, struggling to find words.
“Thanks,” I said, smiling back at him. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
That was a lie. He looked incredible. His hair was slicked back and his fitted suit flattered his form. Our moment was interrupted when Cody started honking the horn. We moved towards the jeep and piled in. Brett and I sat in the back, our hands painfully close together. He took my hand and squeezed it when we arrived at school, then got out to open the door for me.
As we walked together through the entrance, I almost couldn’t believe that this was real. Maybe fairy tales could come true after all. Brett held out his arm for me to take, but I was distracted by Crys. “You look insanely beautiful!” I said.
“Finally noticed, did you?” She twirled and bowed with a flourish, then she laughed and tossed her hair. “By the way, who are you and what have you done with my best friend?”
I rolled my eyes. “Stop, you’re embarrassing me.”
“I’m sorry, but you look freaking amazing. If I were a guy, I’d take you home with me tonight.”
We both burst out laughing. Cody and Brett stood a few feet away from us, shaking their heads. I not
iced the stares once we’d made it outside. Narrowed eyes followed us around the room. Some people were trying to be discreet. Others not so much. I was the girl whose sister made a guy kill Brett’s father. We didn’t belong together, and everybody knew it. I hesitated in the doorway, but Brett grabbed my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before pulling me inside.
The hall was decorated in silver and blue. Snowflakes lined the walls and lights shaped like moons orbited the floor. There was a fake snow machine in one corner, spitting out flakes of white confetti in front of a dark blue backdrop. A professional photographer was taking pictures of couples. My eyes lit up when I saw it. Crys noticed and clapped her hands.
“We need pictures!” she shouted, pulling Cody along with her. She motioned for Brett and me to follow and the four of us stood side by side for the photo. Cody kissed Chrys on the cheek right before the photographer snapped the photo. He looked at the camera, slightly unimpressed, and pointed towards me and Brett.
“You two,” he said. “Get a little closer.”
Brett put his arm around my waist and held me close. My skin burned with the touch. I focused on breathing steadily as we smiled for the picture. The camera flashed twice and the photographer held a thumb up. Then Crys grabbed my arm without a warning and dragged me to the punchbowl.
She poured two cups and sniffed the punch.
“Lame,” she said, with a pout. I raised an eyebrow and she pointed at the cup.
“No alcohol,” she sighed.
“Don’t worry,” Cody said behind us. “I’ve got rations.”
He pulled a silver flask out of his jacket pocket and poured a foul-smelling, clear liquid into her cup. He offered me some, but I shook my head. I already felt like I was swimming, with the cool air and soft fabric against my skin. Everything was perfect, just the way it was. Chrys closed her eyes and swayed to a pop song that was playing. She danced slowly, while Cody circled her in jerky movements. Crys opened her eyes and shimmied toward me. I laughed and darted away from her. Just as she bumped me with her hip, the song changed abruptly. A slow melody replaced the fast-paced rhythm. Cody swept Crys away to the middle of the dance floor where they clung to each other like magnets.
“Do you want to dance?” Brett asked.
I nodded a bit too enthusiastically and he took my hand, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. On the dance floor, he put his arms around me and I linked my fingers around his neck. We moved to the music, but I was too hyperaware of our surroundings to relax. I looked over his shoulder and caught Courtney staring at us viciously. Brett held my chin and brought my eyes back to his.
“Ignore them,” he whispered. “We’re the only ones here tonight.”
His green eyes sparkled like emeralds in the lights. They were usually such a mystery, but tonight there was no mistaking the fiery look of desire in them. He looked directly at me, like he didn’t care who saw us together. I was so busy admiring him I didn’t notice the small box in his hand until he opened it and held it up to the light. Inside was a silver bracelet with a heart pendant.
“I’ve been holding onto this for a few days,” he said. “I was waiting for the right time to give it to you.”
I stared at the bracelet. “It’s beautiful,” I said. “But I can’t accept that.”
He smiled and took my hand. “Yes, you can,” he said. “It’s my way of showing my appreciation for you.” He looked down slightly. “And my way of apologizing.”
Guilt twisted in my stomach. If he knew what really happened to his father, he wouldn’t be looking at me like this. And he certainly wouldn’t be apologizing to me. I had to tell him the truth, or I’d be lying to him forever. But could I really tell him here, in front of all of these people?
He held the bracelet up questioningly, looking at me through his lashes. His shy smile sent me over the edge. I finally nodded my approval and he put the bracelet on my wrist.
“Thank you,” I said quietly.
His hand lingered on my wrist. He looked at me so intensely, I nearly forgot how to breathe.
My heart skipped a beat as I matched his gaze. He leaned in, eyes still locked with mine, and before I could prepare my brain for what was about to happen, his lips touched mine. He kissed me in a way I had never been kissed before. His lips were soft pillows caressing mine. I wanted to slow this down and make it last forever. I wondered if I actually could.
As our lips familiarized themselves with each other, a strange sensation washed over me. A soft, almost unnoticeable pink glow appeared at the corners of my vision. I started to wonder if it was because of the kiss, but almost immediately after it appeared, an image cut through my mind, sharp like glass. I tried to block it out—to focus on Brett’s lips—but when Jake’s face flashed in front of me, I broke away from Brett and gasped.
Jake. At Zamonta. Surrounded by mods and mercs. I squeezed my eyes shut, then cried out when I heard gunfire. But that was impossible. That future didn’t exist anymore. It couldn’t.
***
My mind scrambled to make sense of the images I’d seen. The vision seemed different this time. Fragmented, like I was everywhere at once, looking down from different angles. I thought back to the quote I’d read in Mr. Peters’ office. I count the grains of sand on the beach and measure the sea. Did that mean I could see more than what was right in front of me? If it was the same future as before, Jake must have tried to break into Zamonta on his own. And from what I saw, there was no way he’d make it out alive. I jumped when Brett grabbed my shoulder, staring at me with wide eyes.
“What is it, what’s wrong?” he asked. His face was so serious, he reminded me of his father, just before I’d melted his face off. And now I was at a dance with him, letting him kiss me. What kind of monster did that make me? I pushed away from him and ran towards the exit, gasping for breath. I darted between the dancing couples, careening around the floor like I was stuck in a pinball machine. Finally I made it to the door. I ran towards the steps, but didn’t see the foot that kicked out from the shadows. My new dress ripped up to my knees as I tumbled down the steps. I landed hard in the frosted soil and lay there, stunned. I rolled my head and caught a glimpse of Courtney’s smirk, just before she vanished back inside. I crawled forward, pulling myself with my fingers, then stumbled onto my feet. Brett and Cody caught my arms and led me to the side of the building, near the bike racks. Brett wrapped me in his coat and rubbed my shoulders for warmth. That’s when I realized Chrys was talking.
“Alicia, are you okay? How many fingers am I holding up?”
“One,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her middle finger.
She breathed a sigh of relief and hugged me.
“What the hell happened, you didn’t even drink anything, did you?”
“You saw something, right?” Brett asked, frowning. “Something from the future.”
I felt the stickiness of mascara on my cheek and bit my lip to stop the tears. I wasn’t sure when I’d started crying.
“It can’t be real,” I said. “It was the same as before. Mods, Zamonta, all of it.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Chrys said. “Eric killed Mr. Peters. You said he was behind it all.”
“I don’t know. I can’t explain it. Somehow, it happens anyway. Maybe someone else took over the project. Maybe it’s too late.”
Brett squeezed his fists together. I couldn’t imagine how he was feeling—did that mean his father died for nothing? Cody looked nervous, like he didn’t know whether to comfort me or Brett.
“There’s only one way to know for sure,” Brett said.
“I have to go back,” I whispered, locking eyes with him.
“What, right now?” Chrys cut in. “Absolutely not. You just fell down a flight of stairs, and you’re not exactly dressed for the occasion.”
“It can’t wait,” I said firmly. “Defiance was attacking Zamonta, probably to rescue the missing girls. Maybe to blow it up. But they were losing, badly. If I don’t help th
em, they’ll die.”
“I’ve got some phylia in my jeep,” Brett said. “I’ve been keeping it nearby, just in case.”
“You need to go home first and get changed,” Chrys said. “Maybe find some weapons or something? You can’t just show up in a pretty dress and ask them nicely.”
“Jump from my house,” a voice said nearby. I turned to see Tracy. He was only half formal, wearing jeans and sneakers with a white shirt and bowtie. He must have seen the commotion and followed us outside. “You’ll need clothes, weapons, whatever. Say the word and I’ll get it for you. I can get it later, but it should be there when you show up. Right?”
“Right,” I smiled gratefully.
The others helped me towards Brett’s car and I climbed into the backseat. Tracy’s house was only five minutes away. On the drive over I gave him a quick shopping list. Brett parked in the driveway, and I made sure it was inside the boundaries of Tracy’s future house. Then Brett passed me Cody’s pipe with a tiny bit of phylia in it.
“Find out what’s going on. Find out who is behind it, if you can. But don’t do anything risky. Remember, nothing in the future is as important as you coming back safely.”
I nodded and took the pipe, then grabbed the lighter from Cody.
“This is so weird,” Tracy whispered.
Cody nodded. “You learn to just go with it.”
With two quick inhales, my body sank into the backseat upholstery. The familiar pink haze wrapped me up like a cocoon. For a moment, I relaxed into the euphoric sensation and dared to think that maybe everything would be fine.
“Come back safely,” Brett said, squeezing my hand.
“I promise,” I said. Then he was gone—his face blinked out of my vision like a candle being snuffed. I watched as Tracy’s house was torn down and cleared away by bulldozers. In its place, the much larger, modern architecture of Tracy’s gleaming glass cube grew like a plant, then reflected thousands of sunrises. Seconds later, the pink haze cleared and I was alone in the darkness. I raced up the stairs and pounded on Tracy’s door, shouting his name until he opened. His eyes widened at my silvery dress, but I pushed past him.