Chapter 21
“This is all a hallucination,” I suggest.
“I assure you, sweetheart, I’m very real,” says Austin.
I drag down the skin under my eyes and groan at him.
“Okay, let’s look at the facts here,” says lawyer-Matt. “What do we know?”
There’s silence for a second before I say, “We all remember yesterday.”
“Which would make sense if today is Sunday. So what evidence do we actually have that … something is—you know, something is—”
“That we’re living through the same Saturday a second time?” asks Sammie, walking back into the room from the garage, unwrapping what appears to be a second key lime MoonPie.
“Where did you get that?” I ask.
“Same place as yesterday.” She gives me wide, telling eyes.
“Wait,” Matt says, “you guys found MoonPies yesterday and you didn’t tell me?”
“Just the one,” Sammie corrects. “Do you want today’s?”
“Today’s?” I repeat, stunned at the ease with which some people can accept something that is literally impossible and absolutely not happening.
“Eh,” Matt hesitates. “It’s cold, right? Babe was never able to convince me that way was better.”
“And I basically had dibs,” Austin interjects, snatching it from Sammie’s hands. “I would have called dibs yesterday if I’d known that today would also be yesterday. You can get yours tomorrow, we’ll just leave it on the counter until it’s warmed up.” He winks at Matt.
Matt seems to accept this before shaking his head like a cartoon character escaping hypnosis. “We’re not just going to assume that tomorrow will also be Saturday.”
“Well, today is,” Sammie says.
“And so was yesterday,” Austin helpfully adds.
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Okay. The same things happened twice. Gladys came by and brought the basket. She said the same things. Unless we changed what we said,” I say.
“Mr. Kelly,” says Sammie.
“Everyone in town, even the dumbass kids, thinks it’s Saturday,” says Austin.
“Taylor Rae was talking about yesterday and how Friday is her and her husband’s date night and how she has to go do Sunday-night dinner with her in-laws tomorrow, but she hasn’t cooked anything yet,” says Sammie.
“Wait, what about the guy—her brother,” I say. “He didn’t come again.”
“We were in town,” says Sammie. “I don’t know exactly what time anything happened yesterday or today, but I don’t think we were home.”
“Okay, that one is up for debate. Reasonable doubt,” says Matt, with a flat smile.
“Oh my god.” I sit down and collapse rag doll–style over my knees. “What are we even saying?”
“I think,” says Matt, “we’re wondering if we’re stuck in a time loop.”