Chapter 8
EMMA
I don’t want to believe history is going to repeat itself, but the way Myles talked has me convinced there’s something going on between him and Mallory. I’ve always been able to catch him in a lie.
Part of me is still waiting to close my eyes and be back in my own timeline when I open them, but somehow I stay put here. I think it’s a sign the universe wants me to save Mallory.
I sit, fully ignoring the class I’m in as I try to come up with a plan. I’ve managed to remember my schedule from last year, but I can’t pay attention. I couldn’t care less about my classes. I have more important things to do. I have a life to save.
But how am I supposed to save her?
I’ve never done anything remotely “good” in my life. I don’t think it’s in my nature. I have the abhorrent skill of always messing up like it’s written into the code of my being.
I could always kidnap her. Lock her up and force her to stay home, but I doubt the others would go along with it. Someone would notice, and then I’d be the one grounded until who knows when. Not to mention that my sister is strong, and I don’t think I’d stand a chance of tying her up.
I need another plan. An actual plan. Something that could convince Mallory to stay away from Myles, and vice versa.
But I have nothing to prove I’m from the future.
I look relatively the same. I don’t remember any meaningful sports game scores or news events.
I have nothing but the words out of my mouth.
Or . . .
A seedling of hope pops into my head.
I’m here from the future, which means past Emma, the Emma that belongs in this time, is still here. She’s my proof.
The bell rings, releasing us for lunch. Before any of the other students have time to react, I’m out of my seat with my backpack draped over my shoulder, aiming for the door. I beeline straight to the cafeteria, waiting under the arched entrance for Mallory.
I need to get her attention before she sits down so I can talk to her without her friends around. Otherwise I’m sure she’ll react the same way she did earlier. She’ll be too embarrassed to talk to me.
My stomach growls as the smell of chicken alfredo and garlic bread fills the air.
I was so focused on Mallory I didn’t realize how hungry I was.
I haven’t eaten since yesterday, but this is so much worse than it should be.
My appetite has been suppressed lately, but right now I’m so hungry I’m considering getting in line and ditching my plan of attack.
Concentrate, Emma.
I turn away from the food, but it doesn’t stop the garlic from reaching me. I lean against the wall and hug my middle as my stomach growls again.
Lots of students filter in, lining up and filling the seats one by one, but Mallory is taking her sweet time. Watching each person go through the line and exit the other side with a full tray is torture.
I have to focus. This is serious and I’ll have plenty of time to eat later.
Minutes tick by, the line dwindling. Maybe Mallory isn’t coming after all and I’ll miss my opportunity for pasta.
It’s already seven minutes into the lunch period.
There’s no reason she’d be at her locker for this long.
What if she brought her own food and is eating somewhere else?
I’ll have to forfeit the rest of lunch to search the school and find her—
Her rosy pink cheeks and dark hair pulled into a ponytail walk by.
“Mallory,” I say, stopping her.
She turns, eyes narrowing. “What’s wrong now?”
“I need to talk to you about something,” I blurt out.
Her eyes dart over to the line. “Can we get lunch first?”
“No,” I say, placing my hands on her arms. “I know you’ll think I’m being dramatic, but you have to listen to me. You’re in danger and if you don’t listen to me, you’ll die.”
She throws her head back and groans. “Emma . . . I’m tired and hungry. I can’t handle one of your stories right now.”
I tighten my grip, refusing to let her go.
“I realize how this sounds—” I bite my lip, trying to figure out where to start.
“But I’m from the future, and I know that seems unbelievable but it’s true.
The other Emma—the Emma that belongs here—ran away yesterday after you fought with her.
I don’t know how I ended up here, but I’m telling you that someone is going to kill you, and if you would come with me to find the other Emma, that’ll prove I’m telling the truth.
She’s heading to Lancaster as we speak.”
Mallory blinks a few times, no doubt processing all of this new information. “So let me get this straight. You traveled from the future to warn me that someone is going to kill me.”
I nod. “Exactly.” She’s following my logic quite nicely.
“And you want me to take you to Lancaster?”
I nod. “It’s the only way for me to prove it to you.”
“Naturally.”
“So will you take me?”
“No.” She tugs my hands off her and steps forward.
“But—”
“I already told you I’m not taking you to see Mom.”
I reach for her again, grasping her hand tightly in my own. “That’s not why I want to go. I’m telling you the truth! You have to stay away from Myles!”
Her head snaps up. “Myles?”
“No—yes—I mean, he’s dangerous.”
“Have you been following me?” Her eyes narrow at me.
A stone sinks in the pit of my stomach. Did she just admit that she’s been spending time with him? Does this confirm I was right about Myles lying to me?
“Please,” I beg. “Stay away from him.”
She leans closer and lowers her voice. “Leave me alone.”
My thoughts swim around my head like soup, all of them jumbled together, and nothing makes sense.
How did I go all this time not knowing Mallory was spending time with Myles?
That’s something I should’ve caught on to.
I’ve thought about every second I spent with Mallory before she died, mulling over every detail, trying to figure out what I missed until the memories were worn out.
I hoped I’d find Myles’s motive somewhere along the way, but they were—they are—spending time together and I didn’t notice.
There’s a raw pull at my heart thinking of them together. How close are they? Nausea strikes and my head spins at the thought of them in the same room. In my mind, the lights are low and they sit next to each other. Their hands touch—
“Are you dating him?” I blurt out. It’s less of a question and more of an accusation.
“What? No.” Her nose scrunches up and she grimaces. “It’s Myles. He’s like my brother.”
Some brother. He kills you.
“Then what’s going on?”
Mallory pries my hand off her again. “Nothing’s going on.”
If only she could understand the gravity of the situation. Whatever she’s doing with him right now is going to lead to her death.
“Please.”
“If you don’t believe me, go ask him,” she says, twirling me around by the shoulders so I have a clear view of him sitting across the cafeteria, surrounded by the rest of the baseball team.
Go ask him? The murderer?
I already tried that. He doesn’t want anything to do with me. Talking to him is like talking to a wall. Useless. Besides, every time I’m around him I feel sick.
“I’m going to eat.”
“But—”
I spin around to face her again, but she’s already walking off.
I stomp, and pinch my lips together to keep from yelling at her. It wouldn’t do any good. If I want any chance of her listening to me, I have to get on her good side. I tug my sweater, grip tightening by the second as heat rises to my ears.
Myles sits on the end of the bench, and Sam is in the spot closest to him. They’re laughing about something, twisting a knife in my heart. How can he sit there smiling and laughing when he’s planning on hurting my sister?
I march forward, focused on him like a missile ready to explode on impact.
He catches a glimpse of me and covers his face with his hand like it’ll keep him safe, and the rest of the table grows quiet in my presence.
“And she’s back,” Sam says.
“Shut up,” I sneer. I’m not here to make friends. Not to mention, I’m still sore about how he vandalized my locker and his unwavering disbelief of Myles’s guilt.
I hit the table with two hands, leaning my weight forward. “Myles, I need to talk to you.”
Myles groans as his friends holler like a bunch of animals.
“She needs to talk to you,” Sam echoes.
I roll my eyes at their ridiculous behavior. I can guarantee they have no idea what I’m planning to talk to Myles about.
“Come on man. She’s waiting,” says the boy sitting across from him.
Myles lowers his hand to reveal his bright red face and his glaring eyes. “Go away,” he says through clenched teeth.
“I’ll go if you promise to stay away from Mallory.” I like that I’m looking down at him, where he belongs. He’s so used to walking around this school with everyone looking up to him, but he doesn’t deserve it. He deserves to be the gum on the bottom of a shoe, unwanted and destined for the trash.
“I already told you I never talk to her,” he says.
“Stop lying!”
“Oh Myles, what did you do?” one of the guys says. They smile and snicker, but it doesn’t ease my mood. If anything, his friends boil my blood even more. They are the same people who made my life a living nightmare after Myles was arrested.
“I know you’re seeing her. She told me—”
“Stop it already,” he says. “Nothing’s going on. Stop overreacting and relax.”
Did he really have the audacity to tell me to relax? My jaw falls to the floor. “Relax?”
His fist hits the table and his eyes meet mine, sending a shiver down my spine. “Yes, Emma! Relax! Are you capable of that? I went three years without hearing your irritating voice, and it wasn’t nearly long enough!”
I grab his flavored water and dump it over his head before I have time to think.
“Emma!” he yells, mouth falling open. His shoulders tighten and he freezes with horror on his face. Water coats his face and his lashes. The back of his hair is dry while droplets drip from his curls in the front.