Class of 1983: A Young Adult Time Travel Romance

by Victoria Maxwell

  “Oh my god,” said Peggy. “Sammy and Rochelle nearly got married?”

  “Tricia was at her house and saw the pregnancy test in the bin. It was negative, even though she'd just told Tricia it was positive and was crying into a pillow,” Lacey said.

  “Why didn't anyone tell me?” Peggy shouted over the music which seemed to suddenly get a whole lot louder.

  “It didn't really matter Peg,” Lacey smoothed down her dress. “We all saw how Sammy looked at you when you turned up, and Tricia ended up telling him that night we all went out to Super Pan, that it was fake and then it was so totally over.”

  “But she denied it of course,” Ben added. “And Sammy didn’t want to believe she would do something like that, but he eventually realized it was true.”

  “It might explain some things,” Lacey shrugged.

  “You should have told me.” Peggy looked at them both.

  “Sammy told us not to.” said Ben.

  “Oh, really?” Peggy raised her eyebrows.

  “He didn't want to get you involved in his chaotic life,” said Ben. “He didn't even want to date you. I mean his sister, his mom, Rochelle. Things haven’t been easy for him.”

  Peggy nodded. His life was a little more complicated than hers, but she wanted to be a part of every bit of it. She thought about his dad and how sweet he had been when she'd met him, ordering pizza and wings for her. After everything Sam Senior had been through, she couldn't imagine him having to lose Sammy too.

  “Hey,” Lacey said. “He loves you, he just wanted to protect you, and besides, it's Prom. You can't be mad at him tonight. Be mad at him tomorrow.”

  “If there is a tomorrow,” Peggy mumbled under her breath.

  * * *

  “You should have told me,” she said softly when he had finally asked her to dance when their song had come on.

  “Told you what?” Sammy's breath on the back of her neck was making it difficult for her to stay mad at him.

  “That you thought Rochelle was pregnant... and that you were going to marry her.”

  He laughed. “I was never going to marry her Peg. It seemed like the right thing to do for a very short moment, but when I saw you that day, I knew...”

  “What day?” She pulled back to look at him.

  He smirked. “That day in class, when you introduced yourself. Then again at the record store.”

  “That day? I was a mess that day.”

  “You weren't a mess, you were just you. Real. Honest. A little unsure of yourself maybe. But you. It was refreshing after spending a lot of time with people who constantly try to be something else.”

  “You knew what?” she pushed.

  “I knew I wanted you.” He kissed her neck softly and she melted.

  “It was the day I was considering marrying her. That morning I left my house and I thought, screw it, if this is what life has in store, I'll marry the girl, look after my family, work on cars. What's wrong with that? A lot of people get a lot less. I was content with my fate.”

  “And then?”

  “And then I saw you drop that record,” he smiled. “And in that moment, it was as if everything I planned for my life was wiped clean. My future was a blank page that I wanted to fill with you.”

  “I'm not from Canada,” she said suddenly.

  “I know.”

  “No, you don't,” she had been waiting months to tell him. “I’m not from Canada, I'm from the future,” she said seriously.

  He laughed, just like she thought he would. But she loved him too much to lie to him.

  “I know you are meant to die tonight because I read it online. On the internet.”

  “On the what?”

  “It's where we get our news, it's hard to explain.”

  Sammy looked confused.

  “The story was reported that you died on the way home from Prom, the Firebird hit a tree at speed, and you died on impact.”

  “Peg, we'll walk home, I don't care, but you’re kind of acting crazy. And I’ve had enough crazy in my life.”

  She shook her head. “Sorry, I just…”

  “Relax, it's prom, and I promise I’m not going to drive the Firebird tonight, OK?”

  “OK.” And she believed him. And in that moment, she knew, she just knew in her heart of hearts that he was going to live and that they were going to end up living happily ever after together.

  * * *

  “How awesome was that Prom?” Lacey asked, as if they went to a prom every week. She smiled, taking a sip from Ben’s flask they were sharing around under the old tree behind the school buildings.

  “Even my date didn’t end up being quite so bad,” said Ben and Lacey thumped him.

  Sammy lit a cigarette. “So, what's the plan now?”

  Lacey shrugged.

  “There's loads going on,” Ben said. “Party down in Salt Canyon?”

  “In the canyon?” asked Peggy who was resting her head on Sammy lap. She was feeling much more relaxed now that she’d had a couple cups of punch and knew Janet was probably home in bed. But was still a little on edge. She wouldn't completely stop worrying until she woke up tomorrow morning and everyone was alive.

  “By the canyon,” he corrected himself.

  “You think drunk people and canyons go together Ben?” asked Sammy.

  Nick walked over and threw himself down on the grass next to Sammy.

  “Hey, Rochelle get home OK?” asked Sammy.

  “Yeah,” said Nick, tussling his hair. “I put her in a taxi, I wanted to go with her, but she didn't want me, she only wanted Leigh. I've never seen her so messy.”

  Sammy looked down at his cigarette.

  “Dodged a bullet there Sammy,” said Ben who took a swig from his flask.

  Nick gave him a look. “It's good though,” Nick said, “that she's finally dealing with stuff.”

  “You guys are cute together,” Lacey said.

  “We're not together.”

  “But you want to be together,” she continued, “and if you did officially get together, I think you’d be cute.”

  Nick shrugged.

  “Maybe wait until she's over Sammy,” suggested Lacey. “You don't want to be rebound guy. Rebound sucks.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Nick took a drink, finishing the flask. “We need more alcohol.”

  “And where are we getting alcohol at this hour?” Lacey asked.

  “The Fire Station?” suggested Peggy.

  “Yes!” said Lacey, “and I have it on good authority Jonas isn't working tonight.”

  Sammy gave her a look.

  “I saw Greg at the mall when I ran down after school to get this nail color,” she held up her coral nails. “He said there was some Crazy Eights thing happening in Reno or somewhere this week and it's been dead at the bar.”

  Before she'd even had a response, there was movement. Sammy gently nudged Peggy up and Lacey was skipping towards the parking lot holding Ben's hand.

  “How are we going to get there?” Peggy asked nervously allowing herself to be dragged along.

  “I can drive, I've only had a few drinks,” Sammy said.

  “Sammy,” Peggy grabbed his arm forcefully and stopped him. “After everything I've said about tonight, you want to drive drunk?”

  “No. I just want to get us there. We’ll have to wait ages for a taxi tonight and no one wants to walk, and the car is right there,” he said pointing towards the lot.

  “No,” she said, refusing to let him take one more step forward.

  “Nick!” Sammy called ahead. Nick stopped and turned around.

  “How much have you had to drink?” Sammy asked.

  “Man, I've been on Rochelle duty all night. I had maybe two cups of punch hours ago, and one swig of Ben's vodka just then.”

  “Great.” Sammy threw him the keys and they all started heading towards the car.

  “What are you doing?” asked Peggy, grabbing his shirt sleeve.

  “Was there anything in y
our dream about a whole group of us in the car heading through town and Nick driving? Or was it just me?”

  “It was just you.”

  “Then I am getting us to the Fire Station safely.”

  * * *

  Peggy sat squished in the middle of Lacey and Ben in the back, terrified. She wondered if in all her effort to change the future she'd actually changed the future for the worse. Maybe in the future they'd all be dead. Maybe she was going to create an alternative future that was worse. Where Rochelle owned the Fire Station and ran the world.

  “Hey guys,” she began, alcohol clouding her thoughts. “You know how Marty creates the alternative 1985...”

  “What?” asked Lacey.

  “Alternative what?” asked Ben.

  “You know, when Marty goes back in time...”

  “What are you talking about?” Lacey shook her head. “And I thought I was drunk!”

  “It's a book I read,” Peggy said grimacing. She must've sounded completely nuts when she accidentally said this stuff.

  “Peggy has a thing about time travel,” Sammy said, raising an eyebrow as he turned to look at her.

  “Yeah, I know,” said Lacey elbowing Peggy in the ribs. “Shut up,” she whispered.

  “Time travel is cool,” said Ben. “I'd love to see the future, like see if there's flying cars and stuff like in The Jetsons. I used to love The Jetsons.”

  “I love The Jetsons!” said Peggy. “But there’s no flying cars in the future,” she shook her head.

  “I love The Flintstones,” said Lacey, “I always thought I was Wilma.”

  “You are Wilma,” said Ben.

  They were only moments away from the main road and Peggy gripped onto her knees and closed her eyes until they were safely parked opposite Super Pan. Peggy let out a massive sigh of relief.

  Greg had been right, it was pretty quiet. They had their choice of booths, but they took their usual one anyway.

  “I'll get the first round,” said Lacey, skipping towards the bar where Greg was throwing around bottles.

  “Now will you relax?” Sammy asked Peggy as he took her hand under the table.

  “Man, I don't even know if I should have left her.” Nick folded his arms and leant back.

  “Hey, it's not your problem,” Sammy started, “what could you do? She's drunk, let her sleep it off. Call her tomorrow.”

  “That's good advice Sammy. Thanks man.” Nick ran his hands over his face.

  Lacey returned with a tray of toxic waste and purple shots.

  “What is this?” asked Peggy, flicking one of the shot glasses with her bright pink nails.

  “Purple people eater, it's Greg's new creation. He’s going to come have a drink with us when he gets a break.”

  Ben looked over at the bar and downed his shot and toxic waste in seconds.

  “Looks like someone already drank it and spewed it back up,” said Nick, picking one up and then shooting it straight down. He shrugged. “Not bad.”

  Lacey made a face when she'd finished hers and reached for her other drink.

  “Tricia!” she shouted, jumping up and pulling her friend, dressed in skintight black jeans, stilettos and zebra print top to a seat at the edge of the booth.

  “Why the hell weren't you at Prom?” Lacey accused.

  “Why the hell would I be at Prom?” she asked, her dark make-up adding at least five years. She looked like a grown woman and Peggy suddenly felt very young in her puffy turquoise dress.

  “Because it was awesome. Rochelle got so trashed and tried to attack Peggy!” Lacey made fists and punched the air.

  “Sounds stupid,” Tricia said, looking bored.

  “You’re stupid if you think Prom is stupid,” Lacey said.

  “I'm going to dance, there's some serious hot stuff here tonight.” Tricia got up and headed for the dance floor. Lacey and Ben followed.

  “Lacey's cute huh?” asked Nick.

  “Don't Nick,” said Sammy.

  “Don't what?”

  “Don't go there,” Sammy warned.

  “Why not?”

  “She's our friend, she's not a girl, she's Lacey.”

  “What about Peggy?”

  “What about Peggy?” asked Peggy.

  “She's a girl. She used to be our friend.”

  “I am your friend,” Peggy said.

  “It's different with Peggy,” said Sammy, lighting up a cigarette and blowing the smoke towards Nick instead of Peggy and offering him one.

  “Oh yeah, how's that?” Nick asked, taking a cigarette. “How are you and Peggy any different than Lacey and I would be?”

  There was an awkward silence. Peggy stirred her toxic waste.

  “Just, seriously man. You like Rochelle. Don't mess around thinking about Lacey.”

  “Lacey's only interested in one person anyway,” Peggy said, looking over at Lacey who had left the dance floor and was dancing by the bar for Greg who was finding her only mildly amusing.

  Nick slammed his drink on the table and walked over towards the bar. He began dancing suggestively with Lacey, putting his hands on her waist and trying to dirty dance with her.

  Sammy began to get up, but Peggy grabbed his wrist to pull him back.

  “She's not interested in Nick,” she said, “so, don't worry.”

  Sammy looked at her. “I know. I'm kind of done protecting people anyway. Mom, Jessie, I spent so long trying to protect Rochelle, now I’ve got to protect Nick from this stupid crush on Rochelle? Why can't I just worry about myself for once?” He looked defeated. Exhausted. Peggy knew how he felt. The last few months had felt like years. She had never loved harder or been more terrified in her life. Every day was taking the energy of a year. She was exhausted too.

  “Do you wanna get out of here?” asked Peggy.

  “Where do you wanna go?”

  “Anywhere,” she shrugged.

  “I can do anywhere, he said.

  “Ben!” shouted Peggy over the music as she put a hand on his strong shoulder. “Look after Lacey, we're going.”

  “Oh sure, you lovers go do your thing,” and he waved them off.

  Peggy and Sammy walked past the Firebird which was still very much in one piece. Peggy ran her hand across the shiny blue paint.

  “I'll come back for you later,” Sammy said, tapping the car's roof gently.

  “Do you ever wonder where everyone is going to end up? Like after school?” Peggy asked him as they strolled through the deserted streets.

  “Sometimes.”

  “What do you think will happen to Lacey?” she asked.

  “Lacey's a loose cannon. She's completely unpredictable.”

  “If you had to predict?”

  “A stripper, or a nun... or a soccer mom.”

  “A soccer mom?” Peggy laughed.

  “A rich housewife?”

  “I can't believe you just said that.”

  “What's wrong with being a housewife?”

  “Nothing, but, you know, this is the... eighties. Women can do a lot more than clean your house.”

  “My mom was a housewife,” Sammy said.

  “Sorry, I... I'm sorry. I just, I don't know, that was just a stupid thing to say.”

  “No, I get it, you want to do more with your life than be a housewife. But being a housewife could be great. Your life is your family and your home, and you don't have to go to work and slave away doing something you really hate for someone else. It's a pretty cool job when you think about it. Hard, but good.”

  “My parents are highflyers. Literally. I don't even know what they do really. They own things. Property, businesses. They go to meetings. I don't even know. But they are never home. I don’t even remember the last time we all sat and ate dinner together, I think it might have been when I was twelve.”

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “I honestly just think they never wanted to have children, I know I was never planned. I was just an accident.”

  “You
were serendipity.”

  “Serendipity?”

  “A happy accident.”

  She laughed. “Not for them.”

  “Well, for me.” He brought her hand that he was holding up to his mouth and kissed it gently. Then he dropped her hand and kissed her nose, and then he looked into her eyes for a moment.

  When he didn’t kiss her, she reached up and ran her hands through the back of his hair and pulled him towards her, kissing him hard and urgent.

  When she eventually pulled away her senses were so heightened that the pain in her feet became unbearable. She slipped off her shoes and stood barefoot on the pavement. Sammy slipped off his black dress shoes and offered them to her.

  “I'll look ridiculous.”

  “Maybe a little, but you’ll thank me in the morning.”

  Slipping on his shoes they began to walk again, him stepping carefully in his socks, holding her shoes in one hand and her hand in the other as she shuffled along.

  “Would it be OK if I asked you about your Mom?” she asked. His mom was one of the final Sammy Ruthven secrets.

  “She lives in Salt Valley.”

  “Oh, I thought something had happened to her.”

  “She’s a drug addict,” Sammy said.

  “Oh,” said Peggy.

  “She lives in a rehab facility, well, she lives in and out, and she stays with my aunt when she’s out.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Sammy shrugged. “She couldn't handle it.”

  “What?”

  “Jessie, being a mom, me, my dad, life.”

  “Do you see her?”

  “I try to go see her a couple of times a month. Dad goes when he can. Jessie comes with me occasionally, but it's hard for her.”

  “I had no idea. I don't know what to say,” Peggy said.

  “You don't have to say anything. Just be with me.” He took off his jacket and put it over her shoulders.

  “Always,” she said. And she wouldn’t have wished she was anywhere else than walking through the night, through the streets of Santolsa with Sammy Ruthven’s hand in hers.

  * * *

  When they finally reached her front door, he kissed her gently again, sending warm shivers of heat through her body. She slipped off his shoes and jacket and took her heels back from him.