Chapter 5 #2
If she was in pain, he should be, too. Without much warning, he hooked his hands under her arms and bent down low and close.
Unlike his sour demeanor, he smelled buttery and sweet. That was also unfortunate, seeing as butter reminded her of happier,
yummier times. And this was absolutely not one of them.
“On the count of three. Here we go. One, two . . .” He grunted on the three as he lifted her up. His arm deftly wrapped around
her legs, but his other hand had accidentally landed on her boob.
“Umm,” she said at the same time he said, “Oh, God.”
His hand hurriedly moved to her shoulder, but he couldn’t meet her eyes. “So sorry,” he said as he turned toward the wheelchair.
And now she had some ammunition. She thanked whatever sick fuck of a god had trapped them in this loop, then said, “I can’t
wait to tell everyone that we hooked up.”
“That’s . . .” Adam bitterly chuckled. “Please don’t do that.”
She sensed his discomfort and launched in again, “We’ll see how the day goes, funeral boy.”
His jaw clenched and she noticed the hint of auburn stubble around his face. “I’m going to gently put you in this chair now,”
he said. “Tell me if anything hurts.”
He started to lower her, so she said, “It hurts!”
“Where?” Adam stopped while holding her midair.
“My boob,” she said with great relish. “She’s in pain! A ginger grabbed her!”
He pinched his lips together and then, not as gently, put Carly in the chair. Admittedly, being able to sit on something cushioned
rather than on pointy rocks was much better, in general.
Carly waited for pain, but didn’t feel the stinging surges she’d been having. Sure, her back was stiff and her neck ached.
If she tried to twist in any way her body screamed that it was a bad idea . . . but this sure beat the ground.
“This is great,” she lied. “I can wheel myself around.” Carly tried to move the wheelchair, but the wheels sputtered through
the gravel and refused to budge.
She could almost feel the smugness in his voice as he said, “I could, ya know, get you into the funeral home—”
“No.” She wasn’t going to spend the day in there.
“Okay,” he tried again. “We could get you to my car and I’ll drive you somewhere?”
“I can’t handle two boob grabs in one day.” She hadn’t meant that joke to be as biting, but his cheeks flushed all the same.
“What if I walked you to the main road where the surface is flat? Easier to maneuver.” Adam finally looked at her.
“Okay,” Carly acquiesced. What other choice did she have?
He pushed her over the gravel and each jostle and bump caused her to tighten with pain. Eventually, they landed on the dirt road that led to town.
“I’m all set.” She gave him an exaggerated thumbs-up. Then placed her hands on the wheels, pushed them forward, and— “Fuck.”
Her back seized up all over again, and even the Vicodin haze couldn’t stop the way it tore across her muscles like a hot poker.
“Woah.” Adam was next to her, one firm hand on her shoulder.
She gritted her teeth. “Just leave me alone.”
“It’s at least a mile into town. If you try to push yourself there, you’ll mess up your back even more.”
Carly had agreed to let him get the chair onto the road, but Adam taking her the whole way wasn’t going to happen. Still,
he began to push.
“But . . .” She tried to come up with some perfect excuse to get out of this, though none came.
“Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. Just let me help you. We don’t have to talk,”
he said.
“Good.” She exhaled and turned her focus to the wooden fences that ran parallel and sectioned off the farmland they walked
past. Thick oak trees with overflowing fat branches of green leaves shaded a pasture. She was working out whether it was best
to hurl herself out of the chair or stage a silent protest, when a tan cow sauntered toward the fence. Carly had never left
the funeral home and seen a cow on her walk. The thing must have arrived because it was later in the day.
Had she known there would be cows—creepy giants with enormous eyes and gooey mouths—she would’ve vetoed the endeavor entirely.
“Are cows aggressive?” Carly gave the cow some serious side-eye.
“What?”
“They can’t jump the fence, though,” she told herself for reassurance. “Right?”
“No, they can’t jump the fence. And no, they aren’t aggressive,” Adam said.
The cow mooed at no one in particular.
Carly shivered. “Terrifying.”
Adam waited a beat. “I don’t even know how to respond to that.”
“You can add my fear of cows to the list of reasons why you hate me,” she said.
He cocked an eyebrow. “Hate is a very strong word.”
“So you just mildly dislike me, then?”
“I don’t dislike you,” he said. “Why would you say that?”
“So, you don’t hate or mildly dislike me.” Carly didn’t wait for him to respond. “You’re just deeply unfriendly?”
“Something like that.” He smiled.
And then, instead of going back to perfectly acceptable silence, she began to make small talk. She’d never been great with
the quiet. “Where do you go during the day? The last loop was the first time I’ve seen you in town.”
“I go to my parents’ house,” Adam said. “They have a big piece of land. I can be there on my own.”
Carly often daydreamed about the place she used to love being on her own—her studio apartment in Burbank, where she could
eat boxed macaroni and cheese straight from the pan while editing a screenplay on the couch.
“Where do you go?” he asked. “To your dad’s?”
Her dad had an apartment close to town, but she didn’t like to spend time there.
The air still smelled like his Head it was something she didn’t really want Adam to know. Intellectually, she knew that
there was nothing to be ashamed of, but she was also deeply aware of the stigmas that often surrounded her diagnosis. She
cleared her throat of the self-conscious feeling that had knotted there.
Adam didn’t seem to notice, though, as he popped up the front wheels of the chair so they could land safely on the sidewalk.
They were at the top of Main Street. Carly wasn’t sure how she’d fill the time until the loop reset, but at least she’d have
a lot of people-watching readily available.
She had to give Adam some credit for helping. He certainly didn’t owe her anything. “Thanks for the help,” she hesitantly
said.
“Sorry I tackled you,” he said. “I imagined we would kind of fall away from the car safely, versus me just pinning you to
the ground.”
And then the memory of him on top of her, of his weight over every inch of her . . . She unexpectedly tightened her knees
together. She was horrified. Downright baffled by her body’s betrayal. Had her hormones no shame?
All right, fine . . . Adam was attractive.
In a hot alien kind of way, with the shock of hair, and the glowing vampire skin, and the pointy cheekbones and the full lips, and the height and the surprise biceps.
But he was still Adam the Asshole, despite helping her up and getting her medicine and making sure buzzards didn’t peck her to an impermanent death.
So the sooner she got away from him, the better.
“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said. But would she? Hadn’t her whole purpose this morning been to avoid him? So she added,
“I mean, if this is hell then I will see you tomorrow.”
His lips tightened into a familiar line. “Right. Bye, then.”
As he turned to leave, the sound of shattering glass pierced through the air. The last thing Carly clocked was Adam ducking
down next to the wheelchair. And then the world went dark.