Chapter 27 Noelle
27 Noelle
I stare in shock at the snow on my balcony. It’s clearly not June 20 anymore, but what the hell is going on? It sure doesn’t look like June 21, which is where I thought I’d be when I got out of the time loop. I grab my phone from the kitchen table and check the date.
Saturday, January 24. More than seven months have passed.
I let out a scream, then cover my mouth with my hand.
Okay, self. Calm down. You can figure out what happened.
At least it’s a Saturday, which means I don’t have to go into the office. I scroll through the contacts on my phone. Cam’s name isn’t there, nor is Avery’s. I add her number.
ME: Hey. Is it January 24 for you?
AVERY: Oh thank god. You’re here.
ME: I’m freaking out
AVERY: Me too
After arranging to meet Avery at eleven, I load Wordle. The word isn’t “happy,” though it does have a p , but not in either of those spots. I solve it in three: “plumb.”
I didn’t do anything special on the last June 20, so what got me out of the loop?
However, I first need to figure out what my current reality is like. I look inside my messenger bag and see my Woods no, a different version of me was living this life, and I have no idea what she did. How does that even work?
Next, I check my text history with Madison. There’s nothing in the last four months. My sister and I aren’t super close, but usually we exchange at least a few texts a month, so this is unexpected. I send her a message, but she leaves me on read.
Hmph.
I almost head out without a jacket—I’m used to June weather—but as I’m about to lock my door, I remember to check the temperature. It’s below freezing, so I pull out my winter coat and a hat before leaving. I make a quick stop at a bookstore before going to meet my friend.
When I arrive at the coffee shop, I get a black coffee and head to the back corner. Avery joins me a few minutes later, and I hand her the book that I promised to buy.
“I can’t believe I forgot about this! Thank you.” She strokes the cover, and I’m distracted by the ring on her finger.
“Oh my god,” I say. “Are you engaged?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” she says dryly. “I’m engaged to Joe. I have to end it, of course, but before I do anything, I’ll wait to see if tomorrow is actually January twenty-fifth.”
The man next to us gives us an odd look before returning his attention to his phone.
“Which version of June twentieth was the real one?” Avery asks, dropping her voice.
“The first one,” I reply. “Based on my credit card statement.”
“That’s smart. I had no idea how to figure it out, except clearly, it wasn’t one where I broke up with Joe. Although I guess we could have gotten back together.” She looks at the ring on her finger and shudders. “How did you make a mess of your life in the last seven months?”
“I’m not sure yet. My sister might be mad at me, but other than that, it’s hard to say. Still at the same job. Living in the same place. My sister-in-law had her baby.” I show Avery the latest picture. She makes appropriate cooing noises, but I can tell she’s preoccupied. I don’t blame her.
“I have no idea how long we’ve been engaged. Or how it happened.”
The guy next to us clearly thinks we’re off our rockers. When he shifts to another table, I wonder if he thinks we’re contagious.
“Look through the pictures on your phone,” I say. “Your texts and emails.”
She covers her face with her hands. “How can I just not remember ? It seems impossible.”
“It’s like how nobody else remembered the previous versions of June twentieth in the time loop.”
I think of Cam. I assume he won’t know my name, but will I look familiar to him?
After leaving the coffee shop, I wander the neighborhood. A restaurant that I liked has closed. It was there just a few days ago—well, a few June 20s ago—and now it’s gone. After living so long in a world where such things didn’t happen, it’s disorienting. I feel like a small-town girl who’s overwhelmed by the sights and sounds of the big city.
I consider going to see Cam, but I’m a little afraid of what I’ll find, and I’m already dealing with a lot.
When I get home, I spend some time catching up on the news, then scroll through the pictures and videos on my phone. I come across a video of Lenora calling me “Auntie No.” I smile, but there’s an ache in my chest. Though I can see records of what happened, nothing can make up for the fact that I wasn’t there.
Except some version of me was there. It’s all very confusing.
That night, I go to bed in my flannel pajamas and don’t set my alarm.
When I wake up, it’s January 25.
It appears time is moving normally, but there’s a seven-month gap in my memory. I assume that corresponds to the number of days I was stuck in the time loop. Though I’d lost track, the number seems about right.
Yes, I’ve gotten out of the loop, which is what I wanted, but I’m not as relieved as I thought I would be.
Because now, it feels like I have amnesia.