SIXTEEN
P lease work. Please work,” I plead to whatever cosmic force is to blame for this mess. Beads of sweat pour down my forehead as I scan my pass on the school door for the fifth time. No dice.
Renner sighs from his perch, slumped against the door. “It’s locked, Char.”
After the bathroom at Ollie’s, Renner and I went straight to the school with an unspoken urgency, entirely forgetting that it’s locked after hours for security purposes. I learned this when Ms.Chouloub and I got locked out after Halloween dance prep. We had to store the leftover decor in her car overnight.
I rattle the door again, kicking it for good measure, as if it will magically open with my rage.
“We’ll have to come back tomorrow morning. Students will be here to finish decorating before prom,” Renner says.
“But we can’t wait until tomorrow morning. I can’t stay here!” My voice echoes into the dark night.
I can’t stay in a world where I’ve lost thirteen years and I’m marrying Renner. And I can’t stay in a world where Kassie isn’t my friend. It feels criminal that she wasn’t at my bachelorette. And even more criminal that I didn’t choose her as my maid of honor. She should be by my side, taking pictures with me, holding my bouquet during the ceremony, telling me to straighten my back, and giving a charming speech about how she’s my real other half.
“You think I want to stay here?” Renner counters.
“There has to be another way. We could go through an open window.”
“All the windows are closed. I already looked,” he says.
“Well, if we can’t go through ...” Panicked, I hastily scan our surroundings for anything. Literally anything. My sight zeroes in on a large rock in the garden along the pathway. I like to think I’m the opposite of impulsive. I always think before acting, probably too much. But right now, that cautious side of me is drowned out by desperation. Before I know it, the rock is in my hand and I’m flinging it toward the window.
Renner screams something I can’t hear as the glass shatters into a million pieces, shards of all sizes clattering to the pavement.
Holy crap. I just shattered a window and tried to break into the school like a common criminal.
Who am I?
A piercing alarm sounds, and we both cover our ears to block the screeching.
Renner is taken aback, his eyes wide and body still until he snaps into action. “Run!” he bellows before sprinting away from the school premises.
We’re off like a pair of bats from hell, tearing down the dimly lit street at full tilt. The cool night air stings my lungs. As we round the corner for our car, a police cruiser comes out of nowhere, speeding down the street toward us.
We have a split second to decide if we should go left to the walking trail or right into a six-foot arborvitae privacy hedge. We both dive right.
A branch pokes me in the eye as I huddle into a small alcove of bush next to Renner. It’s kind of cozy, except I’m wheezing and dried shrubbery prickles my knees. The scent of damp wood and cedar elicits a violent sneeze.
“Shh!” Renner warns, shooting me a furious glare.
“Oh, like I did it on purpose,” I whisper, brushing my forearm frantically at the tickle of something crawling across my arm. I don’t even want to know what evil lurks in here.
Renner’s arm grazes mine as he parts the branches to peek out. “The police cruiser is going by super slow,” he whispers. “I think ... I think it’s Cole.” He says Cole like he’s his close drinking buddy, and I remember that Renner’s dad is the chief of police. Or at least, he was, thirteen years ago.
“I forgot. You’re above the law,” I snap, while also letting out a sigh of relief. Renner’s connections could come in handy.
“Nah, I’d still rather not get grounded.” He sits, knees to his chest, as the cruiser does yet another slow drive-by.
“Grounded? Try arrested . We’re adults, Renner. I wouldn’t fare well in prison.” I’m far too frail to make my own shiv and use it with any amount of gusto. This is the last thing I need.
“Ugh. Neither would I.”
I shrug. “True. You’d be in for it. Your face kinda screams privilege,” I say out of pure frustration.
“Well, in the end, you’re the one who broke the window,” he notes.
He has a point. But I can’t let him have it. “You’re the one who—who—”
“What? What else are you gonna blame on me now?”
I contemplate rattling off my list, which I have committed to memory for moments like this. But I don’t have the energy.
A couple silent moments pass before he peeks through the greenery again. “I think they’re gone.”
I scramble to follow Renner out of the bush, looking both ways to ensure the police cruiser is gone before trotting back to our car.
We drive in silence for a few minutes before Renner finally clears his throat. “Want me to drop you off somewhere for the night?”
The coldness of his question catches me off guard. “I like how you assume I’ll go somewhere else while you get the house. Besides, where am I gonna go?”
“Your mom’s?”
“No.” I’d contemplated staying with Mom, but from the looks of her texts ( Are you sick? Do you need anything? It’s normal to have cold feet! I’m sorry if mention of Dad upset you. Let’s talk! ), she’s already worried about me after Ollie’s. The last thing I need is her trying to counsel me out of what she thinks is some sort of quarter-life crisis.
“Nori’s? Kassie’s?”
Mention of Kassie’s name feels like a knife twist to the heart. “Kassie and I aren’t friends anymore,” I say, turning my gaze to the passenger window. Renner is heading toward our house.
“Not shocked.”
“Excuse me?”
He scoffs. “You really have no idea why you wouldn’t be friends with Kassie anymore?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He rolls his eyes. “Never mind.”
“Is it really that big a stretch to think Kassie would be friends with someone like me?”
No response, which somehow angers me even more.
I growl, unfastening my seat belt the moment we pull into the driveway, desperate to get Renner out of my sight. “You’re unbelievable. Can you ever just keep your judgments to yourself?”
He juts his chin out, exiting the car. “That’s rich, coming from you. All you ever do is judge people.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is. And you’ll never admit it. You refuse to listen to anyone else and see things from different points of view.”
I steel my spine as I follow him into the house, slamming the front door behind us. “And you do? You fight me on everything. Every. Single. Thing. You’ve made student council a living hell.”
He pinches his brow. “And you haven’t made it hell for me too? I hoped it could be something we did together, and instead, you’ve made it World War III.”
“Because you don’t deserve to be president!” I bellow, shocking both of us, before stomping into the kitchen. It doesn’t feel right to yell at him, but it’s like the dam has finally burst from four years of pent-up anger toward him. I can’t hold it in, as much as I want to. “You just breeze through life on your personality alone. King of Maplewood High. You even found a job that allows you to never grow up. Some of us don’t get the luxury of playing with condoms all day, Renner!” My voice cracks with regret as soon as it all comes out.
I’m about to utter an apology when he says, “See? You just proved my point. Judgy. Do you even hear yourself?”
Sensing it’s too late to put the genie back in the bottle, I revert to defense mode, my default around Renner. “I’m not in a good headspace. My life just imploded. I’ve involuntarily traveled through time. We’re somehow getting married.”
“I’m in the same situation as you, Char. You’re not the only one stuck in this nightmare. Why would I ever choose to get engaged to you, of all people?” he practically hisses, though the softness of his brow doesn’t match the anger in his voice.
“Believe me, the feeling is mutual.”
“You’re impossible to talk to.” He turns on his heel and waltzes out of the kitchen.
I barely have time to let out a breath before he stomps back in like a petulant child.
“I’m still hungry,” he says, pulling the fridge open. He lets out a frustrated groan at the state of it. “And we have no food. Great.”
I shrug. “What am I supposed to do about that? I’m not your mother.”
“I’m not asking you to make me anything.”
“Good! Because I’m not!” I shout. Now it’s my turn to march out of the kitchen. “You’re sleeping in the guest room tonight.”
“Gladly.”
His blasé attitude doesn’t sit well with me. “Go to hell, Renner,” I call over my shoulder.
“Yeah, I’ll save you a seat,” he calls after me.