Chapter 145
The plan was coming together.
I was going into each loop now with a sense of purpose—a different goal I needed to accomplish each time.
I’d even taken to buying a notebook from Johnny and a pen—the notebook had the Sleeping Beauty castle on it, the pen had Stitch—so I could write things down.
My lists were turning into complicated timelines and graphs, and even though it would have been really nice to be able to take these with me, I was doing them often enough that they were getting burned in my brain.
Just like the Freddie list, or his song lyrics—at this point, I could have recited both from memory.
But each night, I picked someone new. I parted from Bryony and the Emmas and then fanned out over the park, focused on that night’s goal.
I did one loop where I trailed behind Reagan, Zach, and McKenna, making note of where they spent most of their time, and when they moved to different parts of the park. I had a pretty good idea of what I was going to do to make things right with Reagan, and I noted it on my list.
Greta and Nora were a bit trickier, if only because they were more observant, both of them spotting me a few times before I learned just when I needed to hang back, look away, keep flying under the radar.
But once I figured that out, and I’d been able to get a handle on where they were going and when, I devised my plan for them, too.
Bruce was a little bit harder, because seeing him always made my heart clench a little. I no longer had a crush on him. But just watching him laughing with his friends, or getting snacks, or waiting on rides, was enough to remind me of what I’d done, and how I hadn’t taken responsibility—yet.
I spent one loop dashing around the park, verifying that people were where they were supposed to be, making the final adjustments to the plan, confirming that the diagrams were all lining up.
I was reminded of my dads, the way that they always got before a house was being shown, when they checked and double-checked everything that could possibly go wrong, and made contingency plans for every outcome.
Now, I flipped through my notebook one last time, even though I didn’t need to—I knew these plans by heart. I dropped the notebook into my bag and walked toward Pixar Pier. I crossed the bridge, looking at the lights on the water—it had never, in all these loops, stopped being magical.
I knew that in the greenroom, Freddie was preparing to go on.
In the bathroom, Tabitha was crying, having already been betrayed by someone she never would have suspected.
I knew where Reagan was, and Greta and Nora.
I knew where Bryony was. I knew about the Emmas, and Ms. Mulaney. Even Amy and Carlos.
I’d spent so many nights here, it had all led to this.
To the next loop—when I would try and make things better for everyone. When I’d say what I had needed to say for a long time. When I would actually pay off what Sheridan had been saying this whole time—and attempt to give everyone the best night ever.
I knew that I might have missed something—and that maybe I wouldn’t be able to pull it off.
But I was going to try.