Chapter 15
Carly
Carly smelled worn books and dust immediately upon entering the sliding doors of the Julian Public Library, the kind of comforting
scent that brought her back to childhood trips with her dad to their local Buena Vista Library in Burbank. The little blip
of nostalgia distracted her just enough that she tripped over the olive green carpet. Adam, to his credit, caught her elbow
before she fully fell. And she managed to utter a muffled “thank you” as she righted herself.
“What was that?” Adam’s red hair had fallen over his eyes and he watched Carly through the fiery curtain. “I couldn’t hear
you. Was that a thank you?”
“It’s about to turn into a fuck you if you keep that up.” She gave him her widest, most insincere smile and was delighted when he laughed.
The loop reset had been fairly normal. But Adam had insisted they take a trip to the library to do research.
Which was fine. She could focus on Adam’s shadow bands, and that would buy her time to figure out an organic, non-embarrassing way to ask Adam if he was all right with yet another awkward kiss.
Awkward because, apparently, she had no idea how to kiss someone, as evidenced by the way she’d planted her face onto his and nearly bitten his lower lip off in the last loop.
“Haven’t been here in ages,” Adam said as he scanned an aisle of books. “This library was basically the school library, too.”
He leaned against a desk and crossed his arms. Annoyingly, Carly couldn’t help noticing the toned muscles straining against
the thin fabric of his button-down. It didn’t seem fair that he was smart enough to know all the constellations on top of
how to attractively lean. “The only time I’ve seen you sit still is when you eat. Maybe I should’ve brought a snack with us.”
“Well, I am neurodivergent. ADHD, remember?” She didn’t mind the excuse to make him feel a little bad. “Sitting still isn’t always easy
for me.”
She was giving him a hard time, but Adam’s observation that she was in constant motion wasn’t incorrect. She’d always prioritized
work above all else. And now that she was stuck in this loop, she felt that if she stopped moving, even for a moment, she
had too much time to focus on what she’d lost. Moving meant that she was going forward, not back into her old memories of
how things had been.
“I’m just wondering if the library is going to inspire or stifle you,” he continued. “Because I need your creative brain to
help me figure out how to block out the eclipse.”
Carly stopped tapping her foot and eyed him. “You need me?” she said. Obviously, she knew they were working together, but she’d always felt that Adam more or less tolerated her
presence versus required it.
“I have facts.” He sighed. “And while I’d like to think that’s enough to get us out of this loop, so far it hasn’t.
You, on the other hand, have the kind of creativity that will lead us to a breakthrough.
That’s what all great scientific discoveries have in common—someone smart enough to think beyond the science. ”
Carly got the kind of wicked grin reserved for Disney villains. “So, you admit it. I’m smarter than you.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “Do you want out of this loop or not?”
She did want out. She’d wanted out from the beginning. Only now, the days hadn’t felt nearly as long or lonely as they used
to. If she admitted that, though, she’d never hear the end of it. So instead, she said, “Okay, let’s give the library a shot,
and if it’s not working, we can move on.”
“Sounds like a plan.” He pushed off from the desk and started toward the book stacks.
Carly followed. “What plan? There’s a plan? Do we just pick up a book and quietly read in a cozy nook?”
Actually, now that she’d said that out loud, it didn’t sound so terrible. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d done something
like that. She was used to reading scripts for work, but a book?
“We measured the shadow bands yesterday. There’s a working theory that they’re caused by a sliver of light that escapes the
eclipse, which I happen to agree with. I’m just wondering if we can research a way to effectively block that light.”
Adam traced a finger down the spine of a book, and Carly had to look away, because it made her wonder what his finger would
feel like trailing down the length of her. “You want to block out even more of the sun?” she tried to clarify.
“We’d need to block out all of it to eliminate the shadow bands, yes.” Adam took a sharp left down a row of books whose spines
were all worn cloth and gold lettering.
“This looks like the fancy section!” she said, then spotted one with an almost plum jacket cover, slightly worn, but a little painted rose danced up the spine. What was that one? She got on her tiptoes to reach for it.
She wasn’t tall enough, though, so turned to Adam. She was surprised to see his eyes not on the books, but on the hem of her
dress, which had ridden up slightly from her reach. “Rhodes?” she asked.
His eyes snapped up to hers, and he cleared his throat. It was only then that Carly considered the possibility that Adam had
been checking her out. She furrowed her brows as she processed this information.
Adam wasted no time in grabbing the book she couldn’t reach and handing it to her. The cover read Romping Through Mathematics. Scientists were funny.
“The eclipse has changed four times,” he said as she thumbed through the pages. “It’s shorter by forty-five seconds. But nothing
else that we’ve noticed so far has changed. There’s still fourteen hours in a loop day. Sunset still occurs at 7:29 p.m. The
question, then, is why the eclipse and why four times?”
“But why not the eclipse?” she hedged. “It’s this super-special and rare thing that only happens once, maybe twice for a person
in their lifetime. It’s what everyone in this town has to stop and take notice of each day. If the universe is trying to tell
us something, wouldn’t it use the most obvious thing? It’s like that rule of eating berries in the wild. If they’re orange
or red—bright colors—you should avoid them. Nature almost makes them stand out as a warning.”
Adam leaned a shoulder into the bookshelf and studied her. And this was why Carly really liked him: She could almost never tell exactly what he was thinking. He looked just as likely to try
to devour her as he looked ready to turn and walk away. A mix of disbelief and desire that put her on edge.
“You’re right. Why not the eclipse? I like where you’re headed. The eclipse is a warning—something we have to pay attention to—and the change that’s occurring is telling us information.”
“I feel a but coming,” Carly said.
“But what I’ve told you is the extent of my knowledge. I own a telescope and have dabbled in scientific hobbies, but I’m not
an actual scientist.” Adam pursed his lips. “Which is why we need to read up.”
Adam walked down an aisle, and Carly followed closely behind. “Here’s the math and science section. That should help narrow
it down.”
“What should I look for?” Carly asked.
“Kip Thorne is one of these scientists who’s kind of cornered the market on gravitational physics. There might be something
in those pages around light sources. He teaches at Caltech. That’s where I wanted to go to college.”
Carly watched Adam almost stutter over the last words.
“Did you not get in or something?” She found that hard to believe, considering Adam prided himself on being better than everyone
else.
“No. I mean, I didn’t even apply. My dad talked me out of it.” Adam avoided meeting Carly’s gaze and studied the spine of
a book.
She was confused, though. “Talked you out of it? Isn’t it, like, one of the best schools in the world?” Caltech was a thirty-minute
drive from her place in Burbank, and a school she’d never considered because it was specifically for geniuses.
“It’s the hardest school to get into in America,” Adam confirmed.
“And your dad didn’t want you to apply?” She simply wasn’t following.
Adam sighed. “It’s complicated. It’s not that he didn’t want me to apply, but he asked a lot of questions. Like, what would I do in astronomy? And how competitive was the school? And how many jobs are there for people who study the stars?”
Carly inwardly cringed; she hadn’t considered that she might be stepping on an emotional land mine.
“And then there was the family business, of course.” Adam cracked his neck, as if just discussing this had built up tension
in his body. “If I wanted to take over the funeral home, I needed a specific degree. The business was solvent, lucrative and
would allow me to have an easy go of it, job-wise. And with me dating Shireen, she didn’t want to leave Julian. I guess I
just thought the easier route would be to stay here, too.”
Easier wasn’t always a bad thing. Lots of great things could come when something felt easy. Like for Carly, it was easier
to sit down and write a scene of a script than do anything else. But she got the sense from Adam’s resigned tone that while
he’d chosen the path he was on, he’d questioned whether it was the right one.
“What about you?” she asked. “What do you want?”
His gaze briefly met hers, before he looked away and pretended to study the books. “Whatever’s best for everyone.”
“So altruistic,” she said. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. His jaw twitched, but there was otherwise no tell
of how he genuinely felt. Carly knew he was quite good at hiding things, though, so she decided to poke. “Right before the
loop began, I got the biggest break of my career. There’s this screenwriter who is a total legend, and I adore her writing.
Marilyn Montgomery?”
Adam shrugged in response.
“She read a script I wrote and apparently thinks there’s promise to it. I got the email from her on April twenty-third. The first April twenty-third.” Carly felt the ghost of a smile on her lips as she remembered the email.
“So when we get out of this loop, you’re going to get your big break. That’s amazing.” He gave her a look like he was happy