by Lydia Sharp
I’m happy for her. I really am. I just don’t want to think about it tonight.
After Melody let us in, she pointed out an empty table where we could sit. It was actually a service table of some sort, tucked away in a corner, but with two teenagers sitting there in a tux and a fancy dress, the servers assumed we should be fed. Servers. I’m pretty sure the food at our prom was “served” buffet style, like horses feeding at a trough. Everything here for Whitman’s prom is kind of unreal. From the food to the overly formal, wedding-like decorations to the live band instead of a deejay …
“One dance before we go?” I say. Might as well get the full Whitman experience. One dance here won’t keep us from spending most of the night as we’d planned. When will we ever be in a place like this again?
But Lucy shakes her head. “I’m too full. And we should leave now anyway, before someone notices we don’t belong here.”
“Fine, okay,” I say through a defeated sigh. “You ready, then?”
“Yeah, I just need to freshen up first.”
I nod, and she clacks her midnight-blue pumps with the sturdy heels down a corridor, to the restrooms, leaving me sitting alone on the edges of the main room, watching everyone dance and have a generally good time. Including Melody. She’s surrounded by a circle of friends now, friends she was willing to ditch last night. I mean the other tonight. To be fair, though, I ditched my friends, too. So I get it. We’re both the same in that way. We just go with whatever happens and find a way to make it work.
Still, I wonder what Marcos and Chaz are doing right now without us. And Jenna. Does she think I let her down? I was supposed to be her plus-one. Well, plus-two, with Lucy.
While Lucy’s in the bathroom, I shoot a quick text to Chaz.
Me: Done with dinner leaving now
Chaz: OK see you soon
Melody approaches the table just as I’m putting my phone away. Her forehead is glistening and the rest of her is glowing. Happy. This is where she’s supposed to be tonight, not talking to me in my car, waiting for a tow that will never show up.
“You leaving?” she says. “Where’s Lucy?”
“Bathroom. Then, yeah, we’re leaving. Thanks for this, Mel. It was good. Really good.”
“And see? Nothing bad happened.” She waves a hand. “No one cares. They’re all too worried about their own selves to even notice anyone else—” Her eyes widen as she glances over her shoulder, then she sighs and rolls her eyes. “I’m sorry for whatever is about to come out of this troll’s mouth. Just ignore him and I’ll handle this.”
“Um … okay.” I follow her gaze to a guy coming off the dance floor and straight for us in the corner. He’s blond and beefy, his chest as solid as a brick wall, with a crew cut and sparkling cuff links at his wrists. His cheeks are reddened, most likely from the drink in his hand that I doubt is “virgin,” and his smile is more like a leer. Everything about this guy has me on high alert.
“Melody!” he booms, even though he’s two feet away now, at most. “Babe. I’ve been looking for you all night. What’re you doing over here with … Who’re you?” He slinks an arm around her waist, and she immediately removes it.
She’s not out. He thinks I’m a threat just because I’m male and he wants her. Fantastic.
“Don’t you have some primordial ooze to crawl back into?” Melody says. “Someone let you out early.”
Her jab doesn’t faze him. “Is this guy your date from another school or something? You told me you didn’t want a date for prom. Did you lie to me?”
My muscles tighten and I try to relax them. Just ignore him, she said. She’ll handle it.
“I didn’t lie,” Melody says. “He’s not my date, he’s my friend. And I don’t owe you an explanation. He’s leaving now, anyway, so—”
“Awesome. Let me show you out, friend.” He grabs me by the collar, like I’m a kitten that’s wandered off from its mother, pulling me up and out of my seat, then dragging me across the room so fast I’m tripping over my feet. Melody shouts something, but her words are lost in the blasting music and the din of the crowd.
“Let go of me!” I don’t think; I just start throwing elbows. One of them finds his jaw. I actually hear a crack on impact, and I’m sure I broke his face.
But then my elbow throbs and a million pinpricks sting down the length of my forearm, all the way to my fingertips. It was me who cracked. He’s made of concrete, and yeah, I’ve got muscle, but compared to him I’m a six-foot branch. Thin and easy to snap.
He drops me just short of the exit, tossing me forward at the same time, the force of it knocking my glasses off. They hit the polished hardwood and some jerk kicks them aside. Everything blurs. A colorful blob has gathered around—a crowd. They’re here to see a fight. Before I can plan a block, let alone an escape, Tank Boy rears back a fist and punches, sending me sprawling against the crowd. They so helpfully step away, and I slide to the floor like syrup. My eye throbs and swells shut. Now I really can’t see.
“Who is that?” a girl says. “Is he with someone? How’d he even get in here?”
The questions and murmurs continue as the crowd dissipates, then Melody appears in front of me. “Oh my God, JJ, are you okay?”
I offer a weak smile. “What were you saying about nothing bad happening?”
Chaos personified, Lucy would say. I can’t even be surprised by this.
“That looks bad,” Melody says, helping me to my feet. “You want some ice?”
“Yeah. Thank you. I’m sorry. This is …”
“Not your fault,” she fills in. “Brock and I … have a history. I’m sorry you got mixed up in it, but you should probably leave. People are talking now. I can get the ice and meet you outside?”
“Okay.” My ears are buzzing. My elbow is tingling. My whole face hurts. I can barely make out there are doors ahead of me. I push through the exit, into the dark, cool night air, unable to decipher anything clearly but the giant mermaid fountain. So I follow the sound of trickling water until I find the edge of it, and sit.
The mermaid stares down at me. Her expression is equal parts innocent and judging. This place really is a fantasy world, inside and out. I should have known better than to try to fit in somewhere I was never meant to be. And now, somehow, I have to drive. There’s an extra pair of glasses in my car, but my one eye is swollen shut. I’m sure that’ll work out just fine. Right. But what else can I do? We have to get to our prom and Lucy doesn’t drive. At least not legally. She does know how, she just hasn’t had a reason to get her license yet, not when I’m always available to take her anywhere.
Well … she’s about to get some unexpected practice, and hopefully we won’t get stopped by any cops. I need her to drive us to our prom now.
She’s really not going to like this. But it’s the best improvisation I can think up.
I attempt to text her, and that plan goes nowhere fast with my eye problem. So I call her instead. She picks up before the end of the first ring.
“JJ?” she says through the phone. “Where are you?”
“Outside. By the fountain. Where are you?”
“On my way. I came out of the bathroom and you were just gone, so I was looking for you and then I found Melody instead and she gave me some ice for you.” Her words are breathy, and I can hear the music in the background. She’s still inside. “Why do you need ice?”
“I got punched in the face.”
“What! Why?”
“This guy … he just hit me.”
Something on her end clunks at the same time I see the front door open in my side vision. “For no reason?” she says. I hear her through the phone and also in person. She’s close.
“It’s a long story.”
“Of course it is.” She sighs. “All you had to do was stay where you were and wait for me. Why was that too hard?”
As her breaths pant through the phone, I hear her shoes clacking against the sidewalk. Closer and closer. Until she’s right in fro
nt of me.
“That looks really bad,” she says, more subdued. “Does it hurt?”
“A lot.”
She hands me a small plastic baggie full of crushed ice.
“Thanks.” When I hold it against my eye, it stings. I let out a hiss.
“How are you gonna … ?” she starts.
I don’t need her to finish. I fish the keys out of my pocket and hold them out to her.
“JJ.”
“Please?”
“I can’t drive.”
“Yes, you can. I’m the one who can’t right now.”
“What if we get pulled over?”
“We won’t,” I assure her.
“You don’t know that.”
“I know we don’t have a better option.”
She takes the keys with a resigned sigh and sits next to me on the lip of the fountain, close enough that her body heat warms my side. And I start to relax. But then she says, “Why did I think we could have a nice prom night together without anything going wrong?”
“This was a total fluke,” I counter. “How could I have possibly prevented someone from punching me for no reason?”
“Easy,” she says. “By not being here in the first place. But it’s not like we can go back in time and try again for a perfect prom night. There are no second chances.”
Except I was given a second chance, and it still came to this. I’d take a punch to the face over Lucy in the hospital any day of the week—every day of the week if I had to—but she doesn’t know what happened before, so to her, this is probably the worst-case scenario. I’m half-blind and bleeding, and she, a non-driver, has to drive us to prom. In the dark. On winding country roads. And hopefully not land us in a ditch or hit a deer or something. Really, cops are the least of our worries.
“Stay here,” she says, and stands. “I’ll pull the car up.”
“Okay.” Not arguing with that. Since we were late, almost all the spots were taken. It’s a long trek to my car, all the way across the lot, and I don’t trust my vision right now.
As she walks away, all I can do is shake my head. Why did I get a do-over just to steer it wrong again? Is that how it will always be with us?
We’re too opposite, and it only creates problems.
Lucy didn’t want to have dinner here. It was my idea, and she just went along with it. She wanted us to drop Melody off and leave. Yeah, we were both hungry, but we would have arrived at our prom in twenty minutes, tops. Has anyone ever died of starvation in twenty minutes? Have they, JJ, you colossal screwup?
Looking back, the answers are clear. I wish I could see those things in the moment.
“I tried,” I say to no one. And at least this time she didn’t break up our friendship over it. At least I didn’t lose her. We’ll be okay. We’re still going to prom. We’ll still have our after-prom. Everything will be fine; I’ll just see only half of it.
With my good eye, I notice a small dog, or a cat, or something is walking toward me. I turn my head to look and … it’s not a dog or cat at all. It’s a groundhog.
Out here? In a parking lot? At night?
Headlights snap my attention the other way, and I catch Lucy’s silhouette in the distance. The lights shine brightly, coming straight up from behind her … like they don’t even see her.
Is that person drunk?
This is prom night. The possibility is high.
“Lucy!” I shout at the top of my lungs.
She stops. No. “What?” she yells back.
The car has room to go around her. She’s probably assuming it will. And maybe I’m wrong, thinking it won’t—please let me be wrong—but I start running toward her. The closer I get, the better I can see the disaster unfolding.
“What is that?” she says. “A woodchuck?”
She takes a step toward the groundhog, making shooing motions, and the thing freezes. In the middle of the lane, just like last night when I almost hit one on the road.
Just like last night …
I understand the parallax now. The events of the two nights have merged into one fixed image that’s crystal clear. I’m going to lose her again, but differently this time.
Tonight proved we’d both be better off away from each other.
Lucy said this was preventable, and she was right. We shouldn’t have been here in the first place. Then I wouldn’t have gotten mixed up in Melody’s “history” with that human tank, and he wouldn’t have punched me, and Lucy wouldn’t have had to drive us anywhere, and she wouldn’t be in this parking lot right now, just as this mindless person is behind the wheel.
Still, I try to stop the inevitable. Because I can’t lose her.
I run faster, pumping my legs as hard as I can. “Lucy, move!”
The oncoming car swerves to avoid the groundhog—because that’s more visible than a person?—and swerves right toward Lucy. Definitely drunk. Tires screech and squeal loudly. Lucy’s screaming and I’m screaming and the groundhog’s mouth drops open like it’s screaming, too.
But the crash never happens. Lucy, the car, the pavement, the whole world disappears and I slip into a cold black void.
With a scream still in my throat, I’m no longer outside in the dark, my feet aren’t moving, and I’m staring at my blurred reflection in the mirror hanging off my closet door, a bright white light flashing behind my eyes and the walls vibrating. I look around, get my bearings, and find my balance. I’m back in my room, getting ready to fasten my bow tie, which hangs limply in my hand.
It’s happening again. The same night repeating.
But that means Lucy is okay. Right? We’re back to square one, nothing bad has happened yet. Please, please, please let this mean she’s okay—
Marty lets loose a few blue sparks from where I left him on my desk Friday after school, and the vibrations ease off. I stamp out the sparks in the carpet, then check the bottom of my Cons for scorch marks. Nothing. Good. But the piece of … junk … is … fritzing …
My thoughts slow. I stop and stare at the thing as realization hits me. Is that the reason for this? Could it be possible it’s actually working? Kind of. Marty’s obviously broken, but he did something. He manipulated the passage of time—not just manipulated but totally twisted it back on itself into a loop. More than once now.
Oh my heck. It’s working! Lucy is going to flip. Out.
As soon as I figure out how to tell her, that is. How am I going to explain this when no one else seems to be affected by it? I’m the only one who remembers anything from the previous days. I … I could potentially be stuck in this loop forever, and no one would know because who would believe me?
But I’ll worry about that later. For now, it’s a good thing. It’s given me a chance to make sure Melody makes it to her prom and I get to my own prom, too, with Lucy and Jenna. No sidetracks, just drop Melody off and go. Or … I could save even more time if I call in a reliable tow for her, then stay out of it. She doesn’t need me to drop her off. But then … we’ll never meet. We’ll never have a chance at our friendship. Is getting to my prom on time worth losing that?
I’m the only one who’d be losing anything. She would never know the difference. So I don’t know what the right answer is with Melody.
Lucy, on the other hand … easy. Just get us to prom the way we’re supposed to.
I pull out my phone. The last message from Lucy is the same as it was at the start of the previous nights.
Lucy: Where are you?
Me: Leaving soon
I’m not going to screw this up again. I adamantly refuse to let anything go wrong tonight. But first—
Me: Leaving soon
Lucy: Is something wrong with your phone? The same text came through again.
No, I just had to be sure she’s really okay.
Me: Weird. I’ll restart it. See you in a few
“Knock, knock,” Mom says on the other side of my door. “Are you decent?”
“Yeah, come in.” I pocket my phone and
step back up to the mirror. What the— Oh no.
Mom steps up behind me, and I catch her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes widen with horror. “What happened to your face!”
My left eye is an ugly shade of purple. Not swollen and bloody like before, though, and it doesn’t hurt anymore. Like it’s had time to start healing already. But it’s been less than a half hour, my time. My time. As if that even makes sense. Everything else reset, though, why didn’t my face?
“I … uh … clumsy,” I try. “When I was cleaning stalls earlier, I hit myself with the manure fork. It was … I was overexcited about tonight and wasn’t thinking. I got clumsy.” I force a grin. “You think anyone will notice?”
“Yes!”
“I was kidding.”
“I could put some makeup on it,” she offers.
“Thanks, but no. I’m running late.”
She sighs then, and notices the slip of fabric hanging from my fist. “Did you forget how to tie it? After all that time we spent learning on YouTube.”
“No, I … well, yes, I did … before … but I think I remember now.” I ignore her arched brow and give it a try. My fingers fumble a bit, but then I get it.
I got it. This is the first of many things that will be different tonight.
“There ya go,” Mom says with a smile as big as mine. “Much better.” Then her gaze drops and her smile falters again. “Is that a stain on your shirt? How did you manage to do that, James, for goodness’ sake, what is with you today?” She shakes her head. “I’ll see if I can get it out, hold on.”
The stain from Taco Bell is back, though not fully. It’s more like a shadow of a stain, which is probably why I didn’t notice it until she pointed it out. But it’s definitely the same blob shape I remember from the first night with Melody. And that’s not the only thing—I’m wearing my glasses. I should be wearing my contacts if the night is resetting at this point.
Just when I think I’ve got it figured out, something changes. I need someone to talk to about this, bounce my thoughts off of, and come up with a theory. I need Lucy.