Chapter 26
twenty-six
Percy
Maybe we should try going on a date.
The words hang heavy between us. I’m staring, I know I am, but I have no idea how to respond. My first instinct is to laugh it off. It’s gotta be a joke, right? Chris is just trying to lighten the mood after his last terrible suggestion to kill ourselves.
I start to grin, opening my mouth to say…
I don’t know what. Something to make it clear I’m in on his poor attempt at humor.
But the look on his face stops me cold. There’s a slight flush to his cheeks, his hands practically throttling his coffee cup.
His eyes rove over the cafe, focusing on anything and everything except me.
Holy shit, he’s serious.
My heartbeat quickens, though whether in a good or bad way, I’m not sure. Fuck, it’s my turn to say something. The silence is stretching too long now, going from uncomfortable to downright painful.
But what are you supposed to do when your ex-boyfriend asks you out in the middle of an unending time loop?
My first instinct is to flee—bolt from the cafe, run up the stairs, and barricade myself in my room until this cycle resets with a brand-new day. A do-over. Except, of course, that won’t work—not where Chris is concerned. He’ll be swept along with me, and we’ll be right back here again tomorrow.
Chris’ hands slowly unclench from his cup. His eyes finally flick to mine, and he smiles. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You asked for crazy, out-of-the-box ideas, and I obliged. Forget about it. I was only kidding.”
Except he wasn’t. I may not be the best at reading people, but even I can tell he’s lying.
And it occurs to me in a sudden flash of understanding that this is like that winter break all over again.
The instant I’d started to feel overwhelmed, I’d shut down and pulled away.
Chris put himself out there, and I’d just slammed the door in his face as surely as if I’d actually bolted upstairs.
But what else am I supposed to do? I don’t want to hurt him again by rejecting him, but how would entertaining his insane idea lead to anything but the same outcome?
I’d let him down once before—what’s to say I wouldn’t do it all over again?
Not to mention the crippling anxiety that churns through me whenever I even consider coming out.
When I set out to repair our damaged friendship, this was not the outcome I’d had in mind.
Chris monitors my mini meltdown, probably waiting for me to accept his flimsy excuse and laugh it off with him. To pretend it had all been some big joke so we could go back to what we’d been doing all this time. The temptation to do just that is almost irresistible.
But…what exactly have we been doing?
I think of the hours and hours we’ve spent together these past few weeks—all the little ways this infinite Saturday has changed even while staying the same and growing more familiar.
I remember that day at the adventure park, how scared I’d been to mess up or injure myself—and how thrilled, how liberated I’d felt getting down off that zipline and watching Chris hurtle toward me with a wide grin.
We’ve had our arguments, sure, our rough patches, especially there at the beginning. But there have been quiet moments too, like yesterday at Quinn’s car. The moments where I dared to lower my guard enough to let him in…and found him eager to do the same.
It’s painfully clear now that we hadn’t been ready to make a real relationship work before.
Oh, we’d tried, but when push came to shove, the bonds between us had proved too fragile to survive.
But here? Now? Separated from the demands of the real world and safe in our little pocket of time, could we do better? Be more?
Suddenly, terrifyingly, I realize I want Chris to convince me.
I clear my throat, going for nonchalance despite my pounding heart. “A date? Interesting approach. Care to explain your reasoning?”
Chris studies me, his lips parting in evident surprise.
Blushing slightly, he says, “Well, I keep coming back to the same question: why us? Out of everyone who could’ve ended up trapped in this thing, what’s so special about two college guys on a school trip?
And the only thing I can come up with to set us apart is our past, um, connection. ”
He lowers his voice at the end, and I realize with a start that he’s trying to be discreet for my sake.
I’d been so busy obsessing over how to respond, the thought of other people overhearing hadn’t even crossed my mind.
I glance around now and see no one paying any attention to us.
Well, except for Owen, who keeps throwing me death glares from behind the counter, but he’s too far away to overhear.
And while I’m certain the feeling won’t last, for now a surge of optimism washes away my usual trepidation. This is all pretend anyway, right? A—a practice run. The idea manages to be both freeing and nauseating simultaneously.
I focus back on Chris, who’s still waiting for my reply. He’s trying to act casual about it, but I can feel the tension radiating off him. I choose my words carefully. “I dunno. That seems like a bit of a stretch. Besides, why would the universe care about our…connection?”
“Who knows? But I mean, the original Groundhog Day was a romance, right? The guy repeated the same day over and over until he nailed it.”
“Like Quinn pointed out that first loop, I’m pretty sure it was more about him learning not to be an ass. Besides, that was a movie. I don’t think the same rules apply here.”
He waves a hand. “We can’t say for sure what rules apply at this point. Our history is the only thing I can think of that makes us unique.”
A slightly manic laugh bubbles out of me. “So, what, the universe is playing matchmaker? Like it’s cosmic fate or destiny or something that we end up together?”
Chris’ blush deepens as he plays with the lid of his cup, twisting it around and around with his long fingers. “When you put it like that, it sounds a little ridiculous.”
I hesitate, torn between fighting for or against his crazy suggestion.
Turbulent thoughts leave my head spinning.
What exactly is Chris proposing here, anyway?
Is this only about leaving no stone unturned in our quest to escape?
Or is he genuinely interested in getting back together?
And what happens if his plan works and the time loop ends?
Where does that leave us once we’re back in the real world? Where does that leave me?
Chris studies me for a long moment, and I wonder how much of my internal freakout is visible on my face. Finally, he huffs and crosses his arms, averting his eyes. “Never mind. It was a dumb idea anyway.”
He starts to rise. Despite my conflicted emotions, panic grips me at the thought of letting him walk away, so I say the first thing that pops into my head. “All right. I’ll do it.”
Chris pauses. Blinks. He stays frozen in place, half-risen, as he scrutinizes me. “You sure? We don’t have to.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes at our abrupt role reversal. “Yes, I’m sure.” He’s still watching me, waiting for an explanation. I’m not about to confess the true depth of my inner turmoil, so I hedge and say, “You’re right. Every idea is worth trying. And it’s not like we don’t have the time.”
The joke’s feeble, but Chris offers a sympathetic chuckle and sinks back into his seat. I exhale a long, slow breath and try not to think too hard about why I was so desperate to stop him from giving up when it probably would have been for the best.
“All right, then.” He fixes me with a more genuine smile that warms my cheeks. “Sounds like a plan.”
I glance down, playing with the wrapper from my muffin. “So, about that…what is the plan? Should we talk about options or—”
Chris shakes his head. “No need. Leave it all to me.”
And now I’m even more nervous than I’d been before.
I must be a goddamn idiot to be going along with this.
It has future heartbreak written all over it.
Even if Chris is interested in a lasting relationship, he deserves someone who isn’t such a mess.
Someone who knows what they want and isn’t terrified to admit it.
The rest of breakfast passes with idle chit-chat before we go put in our token appearance to Oshkoff.
Though we still sneak out some days, the memory of her lecture from that first loop haunts me, and I’d convinced Chris to use a cover story each day to get us out of the regularly scheduled events.
By now, we’ve gotten pretty good at faking illness, especially when we can count on Quinn to hop unprompted to our defense.
My nerves leave me an anxiety-ridden mess for the rest of the day. We spend it together, of course, opting to keep things relatively light as we explore more of downtown. Honestly, considering how tiny Mackinac Island is, I’m impressed we’re still discovering new locations to check out.
Not that either of us expects to uncover anything insidious at this point.
I find myself watching Chris more than our environment, admiring the little wrinkle he gets in the center of his forehead whenever he’s frustrated.
Or the hidden hint of green that shimmers in his expressive eyes when something catches his interest. Or how his full lips turn up at the corners in those rare moments his perpetual scowl shifts to a smile.
Usually, I’d try to tamp down my feelings in order to maintain some semblance of distance, but today, I allow myself to imagine what it would feel like to be here with him—truly with him.
To be able to wrap a hand around his waist in public and tug him close.
To grab his hand while walking down a tourist-choked street without even thinking about it.
To press a firm kiss to his lips in front of everyone and claim him as my own.