Chapter 2 #2
I took the bottle from Bryony, then took a long drink. “I’m okay,” I said slowly. I looked between the two of them, my wheels turning, assessing the situation. “So—we just got here, right?”
Bryony and Ms. Mulaney exchanged a quick, worried glance. “Do you maybe need something to eat, Cass?” Bryony asked. “Would that help?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m okay. But we did just get here, didn’t we? We’ve only been in the park for a few minutes?”
“Yeah,” Bryony said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Like, fifteen minutes, maybe? Tops?”
I nodded, a bit relieved that this wasn’t some giant prank that was being pulled on me. However this was happening…it was happening.
“Okay, cool,” I said, realizing they were both still looking at me, worried. “Just checking. The clock on my phone is acting kind of weird. That’s all.” I smiled at them—a real smile. “I promise I’m all good. We should go check things out, right?” I asked Bryony.
Bryony frowned, her head tilted slightly to the side, like she was trying to figure me out. “Are you sure?” she finally asked. “You looked really pale, Cass. Like, even more than usual.”
“Hey!” I said, laughing. It was a joke between us—how Bryony would tan whenever there was sun, and I would inevitably burn, no matter how much SPF 75 I put on.
But I didn’t even mind the teasing. Just to get to laugh with Bryony again—when only a little while ago it had seemed impossible—felt like the most amazing, unexpected gift.
“Well,” Ms. Mulaney said, looking between the two of us, “if you’re sure you’re okay, you two should go have fun. But if you start feeling sick again, come find me in the chaperones’ lounge.”
“Is that where you went?” I asked Bryony.
She shook her head. “I caught up with Ms. Mulaney before she’d gotten there.”
“It’s by the Trattoria,” Ms. Mulaney said. “You’ll be able to spot it because it’s full of teachers trying desperately to stay awake. As you head toward Pixar Pier—” She gestured and the tote bag on her shoulder slipped off and fell to the ground, its contents spilling out. “Agh,” she muttered.
“I’ll help,” I said, bending down. I gathered up stray pens, a lip gloss that was rolling away, and a big pile of paper bound with a rubber band.
Hurricane Madison was typed on the first page, with Ms. Mulaney’s name underneath it.
But before I could see anything else, Ms. Mulaney scooped it up.
“Here,” I said, holding out the pens and makeup.
She put the papers back in her bag, and I couldn’t help asking, “Was that—Are you writing a novel?”
“Wait, really?” Bryony asked, her voice going high and excited.
“Well,” Ms. Mulaney said, her cheeks turning pink. “It is. What I hope will be a novel, at any rate. I’ve been working on it for so long. I’m actually waiting to hear from an agent about it. They promised they’d let me know if they were interested by the end of the week, which is…now, basically.”
“Of course they’ll want it,” Bryony said.
“Absolutely,” I agreed.
Ms. Mulaney gave us a smile. “Thanks, girls. Well, go have fun. But take it easy, Cass, all right? Don’t push yourself.”
“I promise.”
“Okay, then.” She gave me a nod, then shouldered her bag and headed off, melting into the crowd of seniors and chaperones until, a moment later, I couldn’t pick her out anymore.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” Bryony asked.
I nodded emphatically. “I’m fine.” And then a wave of joy overtook me. “You know, I’m better than fine. I’m great! Because we’re best friends!”
Bryony laughed. “Well, that’s certainly true. So, what should we do first?”
“Bry!” I looked over to see—like before—the Emmas coming toward us.
I made a mental note of it—that everything, truly everything, seemed to be happening the same way it had happened before.
Somehow, I knew what was going to happen and could make different choices.
But everyone else seemed locked into doing the same things they’d done the first time around.
“Look!” Emma R. said as she reached into her plastic Disney bag and—just like I knew she would—pulled out the Mickey ears with the mortarboard. “Isn’t this so—”
“Cute, yes,” I finished for her. “But where did you get it? We looked everywhere.”
“Uh,” Emma R. said, looking taken aback. “You did?”
“When was this?” Bryony asked.
“I mean,” I said, trying to cover, feeling my heart beat harder, “I looked…online. Beforehand.”
“I might need that one,” Bryony said.
“Why don’t you show us where it is?” I asked. “You guys are going back that way, because you’re thinking about doing the Incredicoaster, right? Or Soarin’?”
The Emmas all exchanged a surprised look. “We are,” Emma J. said. “But…”
“Great!” I said. “Let’s all go!” In addition to wanting to track down these Mickey ears, I also didn’t want to hang around this area longer than I had to.
This was where we would eventually run into Reagan and Zach, after all.
But then a second later, I realized that this, my do-over, meant that I wouldn’t have to see Reagan or Zach tonight.
Or Greta and Nora, either—and certainly not Bruce.
I could press a reset button on all of it.
I realized, with a wave of relief, that this would be better for all of us.
They’d be happier not to see me, I’d be happier not to have an awkward interaction, and Bryony wouldn’t start to ask the questions that would lead to our fight.
This redo meant it was a chance for everyone to have a better version of tonight, not just me.
I felt a spring in my step as the five of us started walking together.
Everything around me seemed better, and brighter, and shinier.
I felt fond of everyone as I looked around at them, even all the Emmas.
And I noticed that all the people surrounding us had that beginning-of-the-night energy—running past with their friends, laughing and excited about what tonight would bring.
Everyone’s slates had been wiped clean, set back to the beginning again—even if I was the only one who seemed to realize it.
“So,” I said with a smile as I turned to Bryony. I was still beyond grateful that we could do this, that we didn’t have to sort through the wreckage and aftermath of the fight. “After we get the ears, want to go on Soarin’?”
Bryony raised an eyebrow at me. “Sure you can handle it?” Soarin’ wasn’t really a roller coaster, but there were some dips in it, to the point where the initial time we’d gone on it, I’d shrieked the first time we dropped down.
Bryony had never let me forget it—especially since the very small child strapped in next to us had been completely fine.
“Yes,” I said a little defensively. “I mean, I got through the swinging cars on the Ferris wheel, remember?”
“You did? When was this?”
“Oh,” I said, trying to think fast. “It’s…um…”
“Chip!” Emma Z. yelped, pointing. And sure enough, I saw that once again, the chipmunk was walking toward us in his graduation robes. He waved at all of us as the cast member hurried him along, and everyone around us pointed or tried to get pictures before he passed out of view.
“It’s Dale,” I said. “You can tell because of his nose.”
“I think it’s Chip,” Emma Z. insisted, her voice firm. I took a breath to argue with her, and then remembered about how she’d lost her scholarship. I decided not to push it—maybe she needed this win, even if she was incorrect.
“The characters are in graduation outfits?” Bryony asked, looking delighted. “I had no idea! This is the best thing ever!”
“I know!” I said. “So, we’ll get your ears, we’ll do Soarin’…
maybe Radiator Springs…” I decided not to suggest the Ferris wheel—just in case we saw Greta and Nora there.
Though I was pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen.
Enough things had already been different tonight.
This was the butterfly effect, right? The tiniest changes rippling out and altering everything.
But I wasn’t entirely sure. I suddenly wished that, over the years and all my various schools, I’d paid more attention in physics.
Bryony and I followed behind the Emmas, who were walking three across, despite the fact this meant other people—including Thor—needed to dodge around them.
“Oh!” I said, turning to Bryony, remembering the intel I’d gotten at the end of the night. “It turns out Sheridan is right. There is a celebrity here tonight.”
“There is? Who is it?”
“I’m not sure,” I said, looking around. “But it’s definitely a she.”
“Well, that narrows things down,” Bryony said, deadpan, and I laughed. “Wait—how did you know that?”
I was saved from having to reply when a guy walked past us, and I realized with a start that I recognized him. “Oh my god!” It was Freddie, from Eton Mess—without a soda in his hand this time.
“What?” Bryony asked, looking at me curiously. “Do you know him?”
“It’s Freddie! He spilled a drink on me!”
“When did he spill a drink on you?” Bryony asked, looking baffled. The Emmas stopped walking as well, and all three of them looked at me, waiting for an answer—and I realized a second too late what I’d done.
“Oh, nothing,” I said quickly. “Never mind. I—don’t know him.
I thought it was someone else. From before.
Anyway. Let’s see if we can find the Mickey ears!
” I started walking fast, silently admonishing myself.
I wasn’t used to having to think this carefully before speaking, forgetting that I had knowledge that other people didn’t.
I’d just have to be more careful, that was all.
As I passed Freddie, my feet slowed slightly. And before I even knew I’d made a decision, I was changing direction and running toward him. “I’ll catch up with you!” I called to my friends as I hurried after Freddie.
“Wait, what?” I heard Bryony call.
“Hi,” I said, as I got closer to him. “Um. Freddie?”