Happy Death Day & Happy Death Day 2U

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Happy Death Day & Happy Death Day 2U Page 11

by Aaron Hartzler


  Tree pressed herself into the space behind the door. Moments later, Tombs burst into the tower and roared at the top of his lungs.

  “There’s nowhere to hide, little girl.”

  How wrong you are, Tree thought, and she sprang from the shadows behind the door, the crowbar already raised in the air. It was a direct hit straight to his skull.

  Tombs went down, and Tree stepped forward to finish the job. She raised the crowbar for one final blow but froze as she watched Tombs writhe on the ground.

  “Carter.” She said his name aloud.

  If I don’t reset this day, then he’s gone forever.

  Tree lowered the crowbar and loosened her grip. It slipped from her fingertips and clanged against the floor.

  She stepped over Tombs and ran up the stairs, disappearing into the bell tower. She climbed up the stairs to the very top, and soon she heard Tombs groaning as he followed. By the time he arrived at the top of the stairs, she was ready.

  “Hey!”

  Tombs stopped and looked up. Tree had climbed onto a thin railing in front of the stained glass clock at the top of the bell tower. She balanced there with the rope to the bell tied around her neck.

  “See you tomorrow, asshole.”

  Then she took one deep breath and jumped. The rope jerked taut, snapping her neck like a twig and pulling the giant bell above. The last thing she heard was the first chime from the bell tower.

  When she opened her eyes, she was back in Carter’s bed again, and the bell was still ringing.

  21

  Tree sat up and took a deep breath, adjusting her neck with a soft crack. The scene around her was the same, but she smiled to herself because it was almost like everything inside her was different. She knew who her killer was. Better yet, she had a pretty good idea of who she was.

  Carter crawled out from under the desk and smiled nervously.

  “Oh, hey. You’re up! I wasn’t sure—”

  Before he could finish his sentence, Tree jumped out of his bed and threw her arms around him.

  “I can’t believe you tried to save my life!” she said. “Thank you so much!”

  Carter patted her back cordially, surprised by her sudden enthusiasm. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, no biggie. I just brought you home.”

  Tree thought it was so cute the way he didn’t remember anything, but he would. She was so excited to get started on one more round of this day. She pulled on her pants while he averted his eyes for what Tree hoped would be the final time.

  “Don’t know if you remember my name—”

  “Carter!” she said with a big smile.

  “Yeah,” he said with that grin of his that told her he was pleasantly surprised.

  She was already running out the door with her shoes in her hand when she stopped short and went back to the bed and grabbed a pillow.

  “Do you mind if I borrow this?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  “See you at lunch.” She winked at him and turned to go, pausing for Ryan to enter.

  “Dude! You hit that fine vagine or wha—?” Ryan froze like he always did when he saw Tree. She ran over, turned him around to face the door, and spanked his butt with her hand.

  “You naughty, naughty boy!” she said. Then she stepped into the hall and raised one hand over her head. “Fine Vagine out!” she yelled, and then she headed down the hall, leaving Ryan stunned and Carter laughing.

  Tree stepped out of Williams Hall and stood for a moment, surveying the campus before her. She smiled, tossed her heels over her shoulder, and started to walk. As the judgmental art student peeked at her over the top of his sunglasses, she reached over, grabbed them, and put them on.

  “Stop global warming?”

  The girl with the clipboard held out a pen, and Tree stopped to sign.

  “Of course.” She scribbled her name and handed back the pen. “You save that planet, gurrl.”

  She hurried down the sidewalk and yelled at the couple in the grass, “Yo! The sprinklers are about to go off!” They scrambled out of the way in the nick of time, waving and smiling their thanks.

  “You’re welcome!”

  She pointed at the car, and the alarm seemed to start by her command. Tree laughed and hustled toward the frat boys to get in place. As the guy in the baseball cap bit the dust, his head landed squarely on Carter’s pillow. Tree even leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek. As she walked away, every pledge stopped singing and stared at her with their mouths agape.

  As she approached the covered walkway, she called out Tim’s name.

  “I know you’re back there,” she said with a smile.

  When he poked his head around the pillar, she ran up to him.

  “Hey, Tim!”

  “Hey,” he said. “You haven’t returned any of my texts.”

  She stepped up close to him and lowered her voice as if they were planning a top secret mission. In a way, Tree thought, maybe they were.

  “Look, Tim, let’s get real. I know you don’t like girls,” she whispered. “Stop trying to be someone you’re not. Love is love, right? Now! You go out there and get yourself a fine piece of man ass!”

  She patted him on the shoulder and skipped on toward the Kappa house, barefoot and loving it.

  She ran up the front porch steps, and when Emily waved at her, Tree waved back.

  “Good morning!” she shouted just loudly enough that Emily could hear it through her headphones.

  As she reached the stairs to her room, she heard Danielle’s voice behind her.

  “Oh. My. God. You sneaky little bee-yotch.”

  Tree turned around.

  “His name is Carter. No, we did not have sex, but if I finally make it through this day somehow, I’m gonna have his babies. Lots to do. Gotta go.”

  She ran up the stairs, leaving Danielle to wonder what the hell was going on. In her room, Lori sat at the vanity in her scrubs as always. Tree poked her head in quietly and said Lori’s line herself:

  “She finally rolls in.”

  Lori looked up and closed her journal. Tree walked over to where Lori was sitting at the vanity and took a knee on the floor next to her.

  Lori braced for the worst. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Tree smiled. “Look, Lori. I have been the worst roommate. You’ve always been there for me, but I’ve been way too selfish to appreciate it. Can we start over? I promise not to be such a loser.”

  Lori’s eyes narrowed. “Are you high?”

  “On life.” Tree laughed and pecked her friend on the cheek. She was halfway out the door when she suddenly remembered and turned around. “Oh! By the way! I want to hear about your mystery guy!”

  Lori looked a little baffled as Tree winked at her and hurried to class.

  * * *

  —

  Tree threw open the squeaky door at the back of the science lecture hall and poked her head in. This time, instead of slinking to a seat in the back, she interrupted Gregory in the middle of his explanation of extreme agitation.

  “Dr. Butler!”

  Every head in the room swiveled her way en masse, including Gregory’s. He paused with a marker still poised over the whiteboard.

  “Can I have a word, please?”

  Tree smiled and waited to make sure he was on his way, then let the door close and waited for Gregory in the hall. A moment later, he exploded out of the lecture hall, glowering as he spotted her.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m ending this.”

  Tree waited as the words sank in and watched his clear blue eyes cloud over.

  “Wait. What?”

  “I never should have started seeing you,” Tree began. “It was wrong, and I…” She paused. This was harder than she had anticipated, but she
knew it was right. “Anyway, I can’t change what I’ve done, but I can start being a better person today.”

  Gregory laughed—a short, condescending chuckle. “What lame self-help book did you get that from?”

  Tree silently thanked him for making this so much easier.

  “You know, you have a wife who loves you so much. So if you can’t be faithful to her, at least have the balls to leave.”

  Tree didn’t wait for a response. She was already walking away when Gregory shouted after her, “Don’t expect me to let you coast by in my class now!”

  Tree laughed but didn’t turn around. “Already dropped it!” she yelled back, flipping him the bird as she kept walking. She pushed through the front door of the building without looking back.

  22

  The Kappa lunch meeting was in full swing by the time Tree arrived. Danielle was holding court, discussing how “totally sad” it was that certain people couldn’t even bother to show up for a “mandatory house meeting.” Tree rolled her eyes but stayed hidden over near the booster tent full of baby masks.

  When she saw Becky arrive with her tray full of food and the infamous glass of chocolate milk, Tree made her move.

  As Danielle shamed Becky for her chocolate milk, Becky began to apologize. “I skipped breakfast,” she said, the embarrassment written all over her face.

  Before Danielle had a chance to respond, Tree plopped down a tray loaded with options far less healthy than Becky’s. She immediately began shoveling french fries into her mouth by the fistful.

  Danielle stared at Tree as if she were a leper, her mouth hanging open in horror.

  “Mmmm.” Tree groaned with pleasure as she crammed fries into her mouth. “Oh. My. God. This is so good.”

  Finally, Tree saw Danielle regain the power of speech.

  “What’s up with the fat-fest?” she sputtered. “We’re Kappas.”

  Tree picked up a pack of Hostess Ding Dongs and tossed them onto Danielle’s table.

  “Live a little, hon,” she said with a mouthful of fries. “A few calories won’t kill you.”

  “No.” Danielle’s retort was ice cold. “They’ll just turn me into a chunker like Becky here.”

  Becky was mortified and looked like she wanted to die. She quickly stood up to flee with her tray of food, but Tree touched her shoulder gently and kept Becky in her seat.

  Without saying a word, Tree picked up the glass of chocolate milk from Becky’s tray and walked over to Danielle. She took the straw out of the glass and dropped it on the patio. Locking eyes with the Kappa president, Tree smiled as she raised the glass over Danielle’s perfect hair and slowly poured the entire thing on her head.

  Gasps of shock and delight rippled through the assembled sisters as Danielle’s disbelief yielded quickly to shrieks. Tree laughed as she watched Danielle turn and run away, mortified.

  In the midst of her insurrection, Tree heard someone call her name and turned to find Carter standing behind her. She smiled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out her bracelet.

  “Hey,” he said. “I just came by to—”

  But that was all Tree let him get out. She reached for him with both hands, pulled his face to hers, and gave him a big kiss on the lips in front of everyone.

  When she finally pulled away, Carter was smiling, surprised. “What was that for?” he asked.

  “I have to run,” Tree told him. “But what are you doing later tonight?”

  “Nothing.”

  “You want to take me out for my birthday?”

  “What’s the punch line?” he asked.

  “Look,” she said. “I know it’s really random, but I promise I’ll explain everything tomorrow. Well, assuming there is one.” She leaned in and whispered, “Just say yes.”

  “All right. Yeah.” Carter couldn’t contain his smile.

  Tree took her bracelet out of his hand. “Great,” she said.

  She couldn’t contain her smile either.

  * * *

  —

  Tree was over a half hour late to the restaurant where she was supposed to meet her father. He was already waving for his check from his seat on the patio, ready to pay for his coffee.

  Tree watched her dad fish out a ten before he looked up and saw Tree standing in front of him.

  “Hi, Daddy. Sorry I’m late.”

  She slipped into a seat across the table from him. Tree could tell by his silence he was hurt. This was the part she didn’t know how to handle: the hurt that they shared. Her own hurt she had learned how to manage—not well, perhaps—but enough that it wouldn’t sweep her away. Since her mother died, whenever she and her father got together, their burden only seemed to double, and she didn’t know how to change that. She tended to grasp for anything safe they could talk about, but safe usually meant unimportant, so they’d usually suffer through as much time as they could endure, talking about nothing at all.

  “I like your tie.”

  Tree regretted the words as soon as she said them. All she could think of was how her mom used to say, Old habits die hard.

  Her father looked down at his tie and seemed almost surprised by it—as if he’d forgotten he was wearing one.

  “Thanks.”

  The uncomfortable silence filled the air.

  “How’s school?”

  “Fine,” she said.

  “Like your classes?”

  “They’re fine. Dad—” Tree paused. It’s now or never, she thought. “I don’t want to do that anymore.”

  “Do what?”

  “Small talk,” she said. “It’s just that this day is really hard for me.”

  Tree felt the sadness well up inside her, but instead of trying to push it down or hide it from her dad, she just let the tears fall. “I miss Mom. You know I miss her so much. I miss the way that she smelled. I miss that crazy horselaugh she had.”

  “Yeah. Me, too.”

  A smile passed between them as they shared a memory, and Tree wondered if this was how people helped each other with their pain. She hadn’t thought about her mother’s contagious laughter in forever. She hadn’t allowed herself to. Maybe actually talking about the things that hurt was the way to find goodness in them. It felt wonderful to remember her mom’s laugh and share it with her dad.

  Tree decided she would try to tell him that, the best way she knew how.

  “I thought if I avoided all of it—if I avoided you—it’d be easier. But it’s been so much worse. All this running and hiding has made me so miserable.” She stopped to brush away the tears. “But I think I finally figured it out.” She laughed as she said, “It took something totally crazy. But I’m here, and I love you, and I’m so sorry that I hurt you.”

  Her dad was dabbing at his own eyes now. He reached across the table and took her hand in his.

  “Happy birthday, baby.”

  They sat like that, holding hands across the table and chatting about only big things for another hour or so. Some of the big things were her mom’s favorite joke and the time Tree lost her contact lens in the carpet the night before picture day in eighth grade.

  These were all little moments.

  But none of them were small.

  23

  When Tree got home, it was time to prepare.

  She sheathed a knife that was now tucked into the waistband of her jeans, the handle hidden under her T-shirt.

  She synchronized the clock by her bed and the timer on her watch.

  She pulled her hair back in a ponytail. Sleek. No-nonsense.

  She stopped to check her appearance in the mirror and saw reflected back the eyes of the person she’d discovered herself to be as she lived Monday, September 18, more times than she cared to remember. Her eyes held a message of grit and determination—a message that said she was ready to take con
trol of her destiny.

  Teresa Gelbman was going to make it to Tuesday the nineteenth.

  Even if it killed her.

  * * *

  —

  The police officer stationed outside Tombs’s door didn’t have any idea she was standing there until he felt the blade of her knife at his throat. She saw his eyes go wide, and every muscle in his body tensed.

  “Shh,” she whispered. “Stay calm.”

  “Take it easy,” he said. “Take it easy.”

  Tree could hear the fear in his voice. She’d been over and over this plan in her head, and she wished there were some way to make the officer understand that she was on his side in this scenario, but there wasn’t time. And even if there were, no one would believe her.

  Tree whispered her instructions to the officer. “Stand up, slowly.”

  He did as he was told. She followed him up, the blade of her knife pressed gently against his throat. “Slowly,” she repeated.

  “This is a really bad idea,” he warned her.

  Tree nodded grimly. “And so is dying for the sixteenth time.”

  Tree moved quickly, sliding the officer’s gun out of his holster. “Turn around!”

  The officer looked back at her right down the barrel of his own gun. Tree saw the terror in his eyes.

  “I need you to listen to me,” she said firmly. “He’s going to escape.”

  “We can talk about this,” the officer pleaded. “Just put the gun down.”

  “He’s going to escape,” she repeated, louder this time. “Go get help. Go!”

  The officer backed away slowly at first, then turned and broke into a sprint. Tree sheathed her knife again.

  So far, so good.

  She trained the gun on Tombs as she slowly pushed open the door and entered his room. He was sleeping, his wrists buckled into restraints at his side. But Tree had been killed by this man fifteen times. She could not trust her eyes.

 

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