Class of 1983: A Young Adult Time Travel Romance

by Victoria Maxwell

  “Is this really going to be our last drink Jack?” Magz asked sadly. She couldn’t wait to get back to the past, but she couldn’t imagine never doing this again.

  “You tell me,” he said.

  “I hope not.”

  “I didn’t want to say this earlier in case you decided not to come but…” Jack took another swig.

  “But what?” Magz asked, roughing up the back of her hair, she wondered if it was too big for this century.

  “Is my hair too big?” she asked.

  “No. It suits you.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes, can I finish what I was going to say?”

  “Sorry, go ahead.”

  “Hey kids,” said the waitress who had just walked over to their table. Her long dark hair hung over her huge boobs and they weren’t really all that covered up and her shorts were way too short. Magz looked down at the table.

  “What's good?” asked Jack staring up at the waitress.

  “You guys want a couple tequilas over here? We've got a special,” she suggested.

  “No,” said Magz at the same time Jack said “Yes.” The waitress winked at Jack and strutted back to the bar.

  “You so looked at her boobs!” Magz accused, pointing her beer bottle at him.

  “They were massive! How could I not look?”

  “Uh, because you are gay,” Magz said.

  “You’re straight and you looked at them.”

  Magz shrugged. He had a point.

  “Anyway, as I was saying…” Jack continued.

  “That guy over there, do we know him?” Magz asked as she gestured to an older man with long greasy grey hair standing near the pool table. He looked over at Magz and grinned, a gold tooth catching the light.

  “Don’t think so,” Jack said, “could be one of the regulars we talked to last time.”

  “Yeah, must be…” she said as she shook her head and looked back over at Jack who was… looking at the waitress. “You are actually looking at her,” Magz said.

  “I just don’t know how she walks around with those things.”

  Magz rolled her eyes.

  “Tequilas,” the waitress said, putting the shots in front of them a few minutes later with some salt and lemons. Magz gritted her teeth. She hated tequila.

  “You need to do them now, so I can take this stuff back to the bar.”

  Jack licked his hand like a cat, poured the salt and passed it to Magz. “We only just got here and we're doing shots,” she said. “This can only end badly.” She licked her own hand and poured the salt, getting it everywhere.

  “One, two, three, go!” said Jack as he licked, sipped and sucked the lemon. Magz was a little behind but she completed the process, only feeling a little bit like she needed to vomit.

  They ordered some beers to wash it down and the waitress took the stuff back.

  “I was going to say,” said Jack.

  “What?” Magz asked, wiping her hand on her jeans and brushing salt off the table.

  “No,” he said.

  “No what?”

  “No, I don’t think this is going to be our last drink.”

  * * *

  Soon Magz was on the dance floor with two middle-aged women with perms and a middle-aged drunk biker with a balding ponytail. Jack was standing to the side with a beer in hand watching.

  “I love this song!” Magz shouted to Jack. “Come dance with me!” She dragged him onto the dance floor, singing loudly and off-key as she tried to slow dance with him.

  “How’d you get so wasted already?” Jack asked, trying to keep her upright.

  “Tequilas. Tequilas! Bring us tequilas!” she shouted towards the bar. She kept singing along and started acting out the lyrics, running her hands up and down Jack’s arms when the lyrics mentioned arms. He pulled away laughing. She grabbed Jack’s beer to use as a microphone, leaning in close to him, trying to get him to sing into the beer with her.

  “Lucky Sammy Ruthven isn’t here to see you like this,” Jack shouted over the music.

  “Don’t shout about Sammy Ruthven!” Magz shouted. “It’s a secret! Shhhhhhh!” Magz put her finger to his lip. “I need to pee.” And she stumbled off into the ladies’ room with his drink.

  “Cute girl,” said an older guy with greasy grey hair slithering across the dancefloor straight towards Jack. He was the same guy Magz had asked about earlier.

  “She’s not mine,” Jack said.

  “Sucks to be you then man,” he said looking at Jack a bit too closely for comfort.

  “Tell me about it.” Jack took a swig of his warm beer and a slight step back.

  “She reminds me of someone,” he said looking Jack up and down.

  “Oh yeah?” asked Jack looking around the bar. He needed another beer.

  “Yeah, a girl I knew a long time ago.”

  “Uh huh.” Jack didn’t care for this sad story from the past, love lost all that sappy crap.

  “I mean she really looks like her.”

  “I don’t think you know her dude. We used to come here sometimes though, so you’ve probably seen us around.”

  The man kept staring at Jack. He had these dark eyes that were kind of intense, like he’d probably killed someone.

  “When I said she’s not my girl, I meant, she’s not my girl, yet. So, like, back off… or whatever.” Jack did not want to get into a bar fight. Not with this guy, not with anyone in this place. Big Mick and Jim were one thing, but these guys had knives, and guns. Jack did not need to get stabbed or shot, but he also didn’t like this guy.

  “If I wanted her, I’d have her,” the man said, grinning and showing off a creepy gold tooth,

  and with a force he didn’t know he was capable of, Jack punched him in the face. But the guy didn’t go down, he barely flinched, and then he began laughing. “What’s with you guys?” he said, wiping a little blood from his lip.

  “Don’t move!” yelled the waitress.

  Jack threw his hands up, finding himself suddenly looking into the barrel of a shot gun. “Get outta here,” the waitress said.

  “Isn’t this a bit extreme?” Jack asked, trying not to wet himself.

  “Come on Jayne,” said the man. “He didn’t mean any harm. He couldn’t do any harm,” he laughed.

  “You know the rules,” she said. “No brawling, and this is brawling.”

  “He threw a punch and I didn’t even touch the kid!” the man said.

  “You? You threw a punch at Jonas?” the waitress asked, looking at Jack with a mix of surprise and respect.

  “He was being a dick,” said Jack, looking at his hand which was already swollen, and really, really sore.

  “You still have to leave,” she said, shrugging. “Both of you.”

  “Sure thing babe,” said Jonas as he began shuffling his boots across the wooden floor.

  “I gotta get my… friend,” Jack said, pointing towards the toilets.

  “I’ll get her,” the waitress said. “I’m Jayne by the way.” Why was she introducing herself while she was still holding a gun in his face?

  “Jack,” said Jack.

  “Hi Jack,” she said, finally lowering the shotgun.

  “Hi,” he said.

  Jonas grabbed his jacket and headed out the door barging past Jack and giving him a creepy golden smile on the way past.

  “That was pretty cool,” said Jayne.

  “What was? Almost getting shot and getting kicked out of my favorite bar?”

  “This is your favorite bar?” laughed Jayne.

  “It used to be. Before I nearly got shot here.”

  “It’s not loaded you nerd.” She yanked on the gun and aimed a shot at the floor.

  “Jesus!” he said, jumping out of his skin.

  “And I meant throwing a punch at Jonas was pretty cool, he’s kind of a tough guy.”

  “I hardly even scratched him.”

  “Can we get some more tequilas?” Magz asked the waitress as she drunke
nly returned to the dance floor.

  “I think you guys are going home,” said Jayne.

  “Going home? It’s too early, we just got here,” Magz said holding onto Jack’s arm to steady herself.

  “We gotta go, I got kicked out,” Jack said.

  “Jack, why does she have a gun?” Magz’s eyes went wide.

  “It’s not loaded,” Jayne said rolling her eyes.

  “I got in a fight, but don’t worry, he didn’t hit me back.”

  “You hit someone? Who did you hit? What’s wrong with you Jack?” Magz whined. She just wanted another tequila and some more bad music to dance to.

  “This guy, he was talking about you, so I hit him.”

  “What guy?” she asked.

  “That guy that you said looked familiar a few tequilas ago.”

  “What did he say about me?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Jack said.

  “Jonas is all talk,” said Jayne.

  “What did you just say?” Magz asked her.

  “He’s all talk.”

  “Who is?” asked Magz.

  “Jonas,” said Jayne.

  “Jonas? Oh no,” said Magz. “That’s where I knew him from.”

  “Who is this Jonas?” asked Jack, looking into Magz’s unsteady gaze.

  “I’ll tell you later,” said Magz, unable to work out if the world was spinning because she was drunk or because she’d just created some kind of time paradox.

  “Hey Jack,” said Jayne.

  “Yes Jayne?” he asked, trying to keep hold of Magz and himself.

  “Can I call you sometime?” she asked casually.

  Magz began to laugh. “She wants to call you!”

  “What’s so funny about that?” Jack asked.

  “It’s so cute, but he’s gay!” Magz said.

  “Oh, right,” said the waitress. “Well, whatever, you guys need to get out of here.” She walked off, shotgun in hand, back to the bar.

  “She liked you!” Magz said, grabbing his hand and leading him out the door.

  “Jeez, Magz!” Jack shrugged off her hand as soon as they were outside.

  “What?” she asked innocently.

  “You don’t have to announce that… like that.”

  “I thought you were out? I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

  “Well, maybe I’m not out, and maybe it is a big deal,” Jack said.

  “It’s not like you were going to call her,” Magz said defensively.

  “It’s nice to be asked, when was the last time a girl wanted my number?”

  Magz couldn’t think of any time a girl had wanted his number.

  “Exactly,” said Jack. “Now who the hell is this Jonas guy?”

  “He’s a guy Sammy punched out saving me the other night in 1983.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Jack rolling his eyes.

  “Only Sammy knocked him out cold.”

  “Of course he did.”

  “He knocked out his tooth.” Magz added.

  “Well, now he has a gold one, all thanks to Sammy, and not even a light bruising thanks to me.” Jack looked down at his hand that was going to have a bruising.

  “Hey,” she said, flinging her arms around his neck. “Sammy’s like, the guy I want, you are like, the guy I have.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jack asked, shoving his hands in his pockets and pushing her off him.

  “You are my best friend, nothing is going to change that.”

  “We can’t be best friends any more Magz, you’re going away, and it sounds like where you wanna go we can’t even call each other, or text or email. Nothing. You won’t exist to me.”

  “Wow, that’s harsh,” she said sobering up a little.

  “Well what did you think was going to happen?”

  “Maybe when I’m older, I’ll come find you. Like the old me will come hang out with you and watch movies and stuff.”

  “Cool, I can hang out with the fifty-year-old version of you. Sounds amazing.”

  “I’ll still be me,” she said, nuzzling her head into his shoulder.

  He took his phone out of his pocket and called the taxi.

  Thirty

  Google

  “Two stops,” Jack said to the taxi driver as they slid into the back seats of the car.

  “One stop,” Magz said.

  “Two,” said Jack.

  “Don’t be stupid,” said Magz. “It’s one stop.”

  “No, it’s two,” Jack said, finally giving the taxi driver his address, demanding he be taken home first.

  “Just stay at my place, I don’t want to be alone tonight,” Magz said.

  “Jeez Magz, it’s always about you, and you not wanting to be alone, what about what I want?”

  “What do you want?”

  “Maybe I don’t want to be alone either,” said Jack.

  “Stay at my place and you won’t be.”

  He didn’t answer her, he just stared out the window into the dark desert night. He wanted to rip her off like a Band-Aid. Feel the pain once, feel it now, just stop being her friend right here and now so that when she left for good, he’d already have started to get over it. He was just lying to himself. He’d probably never be over it. She was his best friend. The one real friend he'd had since he was a kid.

  “One stop,” Magz said and Jack didn’t stop her when she told the driver her address.

  Jack resigned himself to another night on Magz’s couch, getting paid in taxi fares and drinks to be her confidant.

  * * *

  Walking into her house he kicked off his shoes and threw himself on the couch. “Are you happy now?” he asked.

  “I’ll be happier if you came to sleep upstairs.” Magz didn’t know what it was but she felt a little excitement inside of her at the idea of having him in her bed. She silently admonished herself, it had never been exciting to have Jack close to her, it had just always been normal and nice, but tonight felt different somehow. Jack seemed different. She blamed the tequila.

  Jack sighed, got up and walked up the stairs. He unbuttoned his shirt lazily and Magz looked away. She heard his jeans drop to the floor and the bed move under him. She switched on the fairy lights and switched off the main light and pulled her own pajamas from under her pillow before taking them to her en-suite to change and wash her face. When she returned, Jack was a drunken snoring mess. His mouth wide open, arms and legs spread out all over the bed. She tried at first to gently move him, then, giving him a big shove, he rolled over and began snoring again.

  Alcohol was not Magz’s friend on this particular evening, so it was a pretty stupid thing to do grabbing her phone out of her purse and tapping on the browser. She knew she wasn't meant to do it, but a couple of beers, a bunch of tequilas and a fight with Jack later all she could do was go to Google.

  Google

  “Sammy Ruthven”

  She scrolled through numerous results which seemed to be of no relevance.

  Google

  “Sammy Ruthven, Santolsa”

  Her finger wavered over the search button for a moment. Her heart thudding wildly.

  “Fuck it”, she whispered and hit it.

  Sammy Ruthven, 18, student at St Christopher's High School was found dead in the early hours of Saturday Morning. His car was located by Police after it hit a tree at speed on the highway heading South. Police suspect he was driving under the influence on his way home from the Senior Prom...

  There was no air.

  She could not breathe.

  She could not move.

  ... students from St Christopher's said Sammy was a great guy, always looking out for others.

  Looking out for others. She thought of the night he had punched someone out for her, without even knowing her.

  Magz tried to get air, heaving it into her lungs, silently screaming before the sobs took over.

  Jack woke up immediately and reached over to comfort her.

  “W
hat is it?” he asked her softly, all the anger and resentment from earlier in the night gone.

  “Sammy’s dead,” she whispered through heart wrenching sobs.

  “Huh?”

  She held the phone in her shaking hands and looked at him with terror in her eyes.

  “Dead,” she said again.

  “Maybe it’s a mistake,” he said, holding her as he read the article off her phone.

  She stared at the fairy lights above the window, motionless.

  “Magz, this article is from 1983.”

  “That's where I've been remember? The Twinkies?”

  “Oh sure, sure, the time travel thing.”

  “How can I explain this to you when you don't even believe me?” She made a fist and punched the back of his shoulder while he held her.

  “Let's pretend for a minute I do believe you and I'm not saying I do, I mean the Twinkie thing was pretty convincing, but you have to admit it's all a bit freaking nuts Magz. But let's say it is real... why can't you just change it? Stop it happening?”

  “Stop him dying?” she asked, pulling away and looking at his face in the soft twinkling light.

  “Sure, if you can time travel you can stop it.”

  “Maybe you're right,” she said through her sobs.

  He held her a little while longer and soon the two of them were holding each other under the covers, Magz crying herself to sleep and Jack holding onto her tight as he could until they both fell asleep.

  Thirty-One

  Nightmare

  Peggy ran towards the flaming vehicle. She had no sense of time or space, all she knew was that the boy she loved was burning up inside. She sank to her knees in the middle of the highway, completely unaware of cars speeding towards her from the direction he had been heading. A direction towards a destination he would never get to.

  She tried to scream but there was no sound. The heat enveloped her, smoke engulfing her lungs as she struggled to her feet. Her vintage heels abandoned on the road as she began running towards him again, oblivious to the burning and bleeding of her feet on the asphalt. She could run no longer. She was held in place by arms. Arms of people who didn't know anything about her, or about him, or about what this meant.