Chapter 19
nineteen
Chris
I lean against the door and close my eyes, taking deep breaths as I listen to the thump of Percy’s retreating footsteps. God, what had that been all about? The way he’d stared at me…
Nope. Nope. Definitely not dwelling on it.
We’re both tired and out of sorts, what with the whole ‘proof we’re trapped in a time loop together’ thing.
Some wires got crossed—nothing more. And if, for a second there, I’d considered dropping my towel, dragging Percy into my room, and slamming the door, well…
that’s even more proof of temporary insanity.
When the embarrassing situation in my towel has settled down and I mostly feel like my usual grouchy self, I toss on some clothes and trudge next door to fetch Quinn like I had that original Saturday.
Quinn answers on the third knock, already dressed and ready to go. She gives me a wide grin. “I was starting to worry you’d chicken out, and I’d have to come drag you downstairs myself.”
I’d fully intended to act like nothing was amiss, but hearing her repeat basically the same thing she’d said the last two times I’d done this makes me reconsider. If I have to listen to identical conversations all day, I might go insane.
Instead, I reach out, grab her by both shoulders, and lock my eyes on her surprised gaze.
“All right, I’ll keep this brief. I’m stuck in a time loop à la Groundhog Day.
So is Percy, that guy I got into an argument with on the ferry.
” And many more times since then, but you won’t remember any of those.
“This is the third time we’ve both lived through Saturday the fourteenth.
The first time, we went through it normally.
The second, we teamed up with you to investigate what’s happening and found out squat.
So today, we’re going to retrace our original steps and see if we find anything weird. Any questions?”
A single, quick blink. Then, her grin widens. “Cool. I’m in!”
Just like that. I resist the urge to shake my head. God, I wish I had anywhere near that level of chill. If only I could let things go that easily. If only Percy could—
No. No! Still not thinking about him. Or the way his eyes had widened when he’d seen me standing in my doorway. Or how he’d been chewing on his bottom lip like he wished it was mine…
Nope, not going there at all.
“Great,” I say a touch too cheerfully. “Then, let’s head down and meet up with Percy. If this is anything like that first Saturday, we’ve got a long, boring day ahead of us.”
“Only you could be so blasé about experiencing the impossible,” Quinn says. “I, for one, can’t wait to see what happens!”
“And you say I’m being blasé?”
She glares at me without any heat as she tugs on her coat and meets me in the hall. “Keeping myself open to the world and its myriad wonders hardly counts. Better that than shutting them out.”
“I don’t shut the world out!” She gives me a disbelieving look, and I backtrack. “I don’t shut you out.”
Her face softens, and before I can stop her, she reaches over and pinches my cheek affectionately.
I swat her hand away. “What the hell, Quinn?”
“Sometimes you’re just so precious, I can’t resist.” Blushing slightly, I make to move past her, but she slides in front of me, her face turning serious. “You know I care about you, right? All I want is for you to be happy.”
“I’m happy,” I mutter, looking away to disguise the lump in my throat. She doesn’t reply, so I add, “And I’ll be even happier once I’m free of whatever the hell is going on with this stupid trip.”
Poor as it is, my attempt at humor breaks some of the tension, and she grins, her eyes dancing as she steps back to let me pass. “Hey, you could’ve done a whole lot worse than Mackinac Island for eternal purgatory.”
Despite my lackluster grumbling, she’s got a point.
My beef is less with the location itself and more with my fellow prisoner—the guy I seem to flip-flop between wanting to punch and wanting to kiss so often that it makes my head spin.
Things were so much simpler when I could keep my distance and hate Percy Wentworth from afar.
Apparently, seeing him sad and vulnerable is my kryptonite.
Percy’s already outside when Quinn and I join the procession, Oshkoff checking us off on her obnoxious clipboard. He gives me a tight smile but otherwise keeps his distance. That’s probably for the best. And not just because it more accurately follows the original timeline.
Shoving down a vague feeling of disappointment, I follow Percy’s lead, sticking with Quinn and mostly giving him a wide berth as we follow Oshkoff to fetch our bikes and set off on Lake Shore Drive around the island.
Quinn even keeps up a steady commentary like she had that first Saturday, though instead of historical facts about the island, I’m treated to a ceaseless list of potential ‘clues.’
“Ohh, look at that rock! Was that an arcane symbol?”
“It’s a stone with a scratch on it.”
“Or how about that boulder there? Is that blood? Do you think it could be a sacrificial altar?”
“That’s sunlight reflecting off the limestone, Quinn.”
“Oh my god! Did you see that? What was that? Some sort of dark omen?”
“It’s a bird, Quinn. You know, the animal with wings and a beak?”
And so it went.
With anyone else it might’ve been obnoxious, but Quinn’s too sincerely enthusiastic for me to stay mad at her.
It’s like she’s genuinely thrilled to be part of our grand adventure.
Her enthusiasm proves contagious, and I follow her lead after a while, shouting out my own inane observations.
We draw a few wary looks from nearby students and a mocking laugh from Devon but screw them.
None of their opinions matter to me anyway—not anymore.
From the sidelong looks Quinn occasionally gives me, I have a feeling that cheering me up was her real objective all along. For all my whining and complaining, I truly am lucky to have someone like her in my corner.
Percy, for his part, hangs back like he did on that first bike trip. Seeing his downcast eyes, I almost ask him to ride with Quinn and me. But what excuse would I give him? It’s not like we’re engaged in any real investigative work at the moment. So, I let him be.
We stop once again at Dwightwood Spring, and without any prompting, Quinn waits until Oshkoff’s back is turned to sneak a sip.
Count on her to consistently defy authority for fun, no matter which version of reality we’re in.
This time, I don’t bother arguing with her, grinning and doing the same.
The water’s cool and crisp but with a hint of extra minerals.
“Move, Rawley. The rest of us want to see the spring up close, too.”
Aaand there’s Devon, come to stomp all over my good spirits right on cue.
“Beat it, Jackson,” I growl. I don’t look at him, knowing that’ll piss him off. “You can have whatever’s left when Quinn and I are done.”
“Chris…” Quinn says, the warning clear in her voice.
But I just tighten my hands at my sides and bend down for another sip of spring water while pointedly ignoring Devon.
A rough hand grips my shoulder, spinning me around to see Devon looming over me, a snarl on his face and his cadre of buddies at his back.
“What the hell is your problem, Rawley? Do you get off on pushing everyone’s buttons?”
I bat my eyelashes. “Just yours, hot stuff.” I blow him a kiss, and his grip on my shoulder tightens. I suppress a wince, staring him down.
Screw walking away.
He hates the fact I’m gay that much? Then maybe we should go ahead and get this fight over with. A crazy laugh bubbles up inside me. It’s not like it’ll matter if he beats the shit out of me. Nothing matters—not when the fickle universe will erase it all and start over again tomorrow anyway.
Before we can duke it out, a new voice interjects. “Is there a problem here?”
I jerk my head up, momentarily forgetting the stare-off I’d been having with Devon.
Percy stands there, one eyebrow raised as he glances between Devon and me.
I might’ve thought him the perfect picture of cool confidence if not for the slight tremble in his lower back and the way he keeps clenching and unclenching his left hand.
Out of anyone who might’ve stepped in to defuse the situation, I’d have expected it to be Oshkoff. But one glance shows she’s completely oblivious, talking the ear off a bored-looking student.
Devon squints at Percy. “Do I know you?”
A faint blush colors Percy’s neck. “We met once or twice freshman year at a couple of the track events. I’m Percy.” He doesn’t offer a hand to shake. Neither does Devon.
Devon studies him a moment longer before his eyes widen, flicking to me. My stomach sinks, already anticipating what’s coming. “You were friends with Rawley, right?”
Percy nods stiffly. “I was.” Was. Past tense.
That probably shouldn’t bother me as much as it does.
“Now,” Percy continues, “is there a reason you two look like you’re about to bash in each other’s skulls in the middle of a school trip with a professor right there, or can we all behave like reasonable adults? ”
Devon snorts, puffing out his broad chest. “Whatever, man. Enjoy your stupid contaminated spring.” With one last glance at me, he stalks away, his friends trailing after him.
The instant Devon leaves, Percy deflates as if all the air’s been knocked out of him. He adjusts his glasses, seeming at a loss.
My instincts scream at me to comfort him, but I nip the impulse in the bud. Instead, I say, “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know.” The words come out quiet, laced with hidden meaning I can’t parse.
I want to demand why he did, then. Inserting himself into the middle of a tense situation like that is the exact opposite of his usual MO. But I refrain. Judging by the lost look on his face, I’m not sure he could have given me a clear answer regardless.