Chapter 4
I can’t focus during the ceremony. My eyes water, irritated either from the lack of sleep or maybe allergies? My eyelids are heavy, and there’s a whirring in my ears. Whiskey sloshes around my empty stomach as I fidget in my seat, unable to get comfortable.
With each passing moment, I become more certain that something’s off. It’s in the atmosphere. A sweet, sticky residue—like after you eat candy, and the sugar coats your teeth.
It’s warmer today than it’s been in the past. The colors of the world are dialed up vivid and bright. And it’s breezier. The wind hums a tune. It’s all too pleasant.
Deceptively pleasant.
Steph and Jace kiss, we stand and clap, then migrate back to the cocktail area for more drinks before dinner.
I go straight to the bar for a ginger ale to calm my stomach, and for something to do other than wonder how I could have ever possibly thought that I would get out of this time loop on good behavior.
While I wait for my drink, I keep my gaze locked in front of me, so it doesn’t wander onto something I don’t want to see, like Little Miss Physics.
I think back on my previous encounters with Tanya in the loop. She always seemed shell-shocked, muttering nonsense. I can’t remember anything she said, nothing specific at least. I wasn’t paying attention; I just assumed she was super fragile and not all that smart. Whoops.
When the zombies were closing in, she took off toward the woods. What does she know?
Tick, tock.
Every moment I hesitate is precious time wasted. It doesn’t matter if I don’t want to, I need to go find her. I need to ask. After everything I’ve confronted, how am I still so afraid of confrontation?
And why didn’t I order liquor? A real drink is required. Should I ask? I should ask. I should…
There’s a dead bumblebee on the bar counter. I don’t remember seeing any bees at the wedding before. I squint for a closer look. It’s…it’s in pieces. Split down the middle.
“Hey. What are you drinking?”
Danny.
Somehow, I forget. Every time I forget. The way his dirty blond hair falls in his face. His sea green eyes. His wide, crooked grin. Perfect teeth. He smiles, and the slate is wiped clean. I forgive him of all his sins because of how beautiful he is. His charm is a black hole.
Maybe he’s a trap, a distraction that keeps me in the loop. A flimsy Band-Aid over an open wound. An inevitable letdown. A temporary high.
Yet I cannot resist him.
“Are you waiting for a drink?” he asks. “Do you need one?”
“Um. Yeah. Whiskey. Whiskey sour.”
“Good choice,” he says.
“You’re a whiskey drinker, too.” I reach out to where I know the flask is tucked in his suit pocket, tap twice. “That’s what I thought.”
“How did you…”
“You seem to me like the kind of guy who fancies himself a rebel, and this whole wedding thing really isn’t your scene. You’re looking for something or someone to make this night more interesting. That’s why you’re here talking to me.”
He laughs his awkward laugh. Classic Danny. Endearing me to him by presenting a sliver of vulnerability, a glimpse of someone not all veneer. “You’re psychic?”
“No, you’re just not that complicated.” The bartender sets my ginger ale on the counter, and I leave it there, pretend like I didn’t order it. Danny requests my whiskey sour. Gets himself a whiskey neat.
He ruffles his hair, bites his lip. “Okay, okay. You’re right. I get so anxious at shit like this. Formal. Stand here. Smile for photos. Sit-down dinner. Speeches. The weird mix of family and strangers. Not my thing. I don’t think it’s yours, either.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You practically ran to the bar after the ceremony.”
I open my mouth to deny it but change my mind, shrug it off.
“How do you know Jason and Steph?” he asks.
“College friend,” I say. “Willa.”
“Willa. I’m Danny. I’m Jason’s—”
“I know. He talks about you.”
“Ah. So, Willa. You were there at the beginning,” he says. “When they met.”
“Correct.”
“And?”
“We were at a party. He saw her from across the room. Went over to talk to her. That was that. It’s not much of a story. Everything that came after is the story. This is the story.”
“This is the middle of the story. I’m asking about the beginning.”
“If you think the beginning is the best part, the story is going to end a lot sooner than you want it to. Trust me. I learned that the hard way.”
“Did you?”
“Oh yeah.” The bartender slides our drinks across the counter. I take mine and step off to the side. He follows me, puts a hand on my back, and leads me toward the floral arches.
“Run away with me,” he whispers in my ear.
Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, right?
I know where this is headed. He will disappoint me. Discard me. He will not save me from my heartache, or from anything else that may or may not happen tonight.
Maybe I am insane, just totally delusional.
Or hopeful. Or horny. Or desperate. All of the above.
Because I really don’t care about the results—chances are they’ll be temporary anyway.
All I care about is that everything in me is begging to surrender to this man with nothing to offer me but a cheap thrill.
All I want is to live in the moment, free of worrying about what’s to come, and whether it’ll hurt.
“All right,” I say, and he takes me by the hand. We change direction. He walks me up past the reception hall. “Where are we going?”
“Good question,” he says. “Are you staying here?”
“Yeah. Are you?”
“I opted for the hotel,” he says. “Which one is your cabin?”
“Presumptuous.”
“You’re the presumptuous one,” he says. “I just want to sit on a porch swing and drink whiskey with you.”
“It’s that one. The third.”
We get to the cabin and climb the steps, sit on the swing, sip our whiskeys. There’s a breeze, and it runs its fingers through my hair, across the back of my neck. Gives me chills. The scent of flowers is strong as ever. The sun is just starting to set.
I’m about to say something, to break the silence, when Danny puts his hand on my thigh.
—
When it happens this time, it’s up against the wall in the living room. It’s better than the first. Fast and dirty fun. I pull up my underwear, and he attempts to buckle his belt. He wears a grin like I’ve never seen.
“That was something,” he says. His cheeks are flushed.
I sense an opportunity.
I clear my throat. “Danny, I…I think we’re on the same page, but I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I’m good for a good time, but I’m not good for anything long-term. I’m not looking for anything serious right now. Just want to be up-front. Is that cool?”
“Ah,” he says, nodding and rubbing his jaw. “Okay, okay. Yeah. Me, either. I’m not looking for anything serious, either.”
He’s flustered. I beat him to the punch.
“Great,” I say, smoothing my dress. “We should get back.”
I open the door to the cabin, look over my shoulder to see him standing there, still a little dazed. “You ready?”
“Think so.” He trips on his way out the door. “Whoa.”
I pat him on the back, and he puts his arm around me as we head down the porch steps, return to the path.
“Do we have to go?” he asks. “Because we could turn around and do that again.”
“If you want to do that again you’ll have to take me to dinner first. Sushi. In Tokyo.”
He laughs. “Deal. I love Tokyo.”
We pass the reception hall and round the corner. The cocktail hour is still going on, everyone happy and relaxed and chatting, drinking and eating hors d’oeuvres. If something’s going to happen tonight, it isn’t happening just yet.
I don’t think.
Dread pulls the rug out from under me, and suddenly I’m face down in it, so anxious I can barely breathe.
I watch the lake for strange ripples in the water. An aquatic monster could emerge, a Loch Ness–type serpent with a mouth full of sharp teeth. Or maybe an enormous alligator like in that one movie. Or a Gill-man. A whole army of Gill-men.
But the surface of the lake is calm and still, reflecting the vibrant hues of the sunset.
Stars peer out from the blooming dark, glittering faintly.
It was aliens last time. What other terrors could come from above?
I’m afraid the second I stop looking at the sky will be the second a giant asteroid appears, plummeting straight toward us.
Or a mushroom cloud in the distance, a nuclear bomb dropped on Manhattan, inspiring retaliation that will lead to the total destruction of the planet.
I scan the horizon, the mountains. Is one of them a dormant volcano? I never considered a natural disaster, but that could be next. Incinerated by hot lava. Sure, why not?
“Beautiful night,” Danny says, pulling me in closer.
I wriggle away. “Yeah. Let’s not…I don’t want people to know we…”
“Ah.” He seems a little wounded, and I almost feel bad.
Tanya hovers in my line of sight, chatting with Ravi and Luke and Cass, who is wearing an expression of pure disdain because as much as she gives me tough love and a hard time, she is unwavering in her loyalty.
Tanya must sense me watching her, feel the prod of my prolonged stare, because she turns and looks right at me.
I panic, attempt to smile, but my lips catch on my teeth. She returns a strained smile and turns back toward Ravi.
I have no idea how I’m going to get her alone to ask her about time loops. It’d sure be nice if this just all resolved itself and I could live happily ever after without having to interact with her.
“Willa.” Evan pops up out of nowhere. “Hello. Who’s your new friend?”
“I think we’ve met,” Danny says. “I’m Danny. Closest thing Jason has to a brother. You’re Evan, right?”
“I am. You look so different. Last time I saw you your head was shaved, and you had a long beard.”
“Ah, I remember that phase. Not my finest look,” he says, laughing.
“Sure,” Evan says. “Willa, Wyatt is looking for you. Why don’t we…”
“Oh. All right. Danny, I’ll…I’ll see you later, yeah?”
“Yeah, yeah. Okay,” he says, again appearing slightly stung by my dismissal.
Evan drags me toward the mobile bar. “Willa Jean.”
“That’s not my middle name.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it isn’t. Do you not know my middle name?” I look at Ev, and he’s smirking.
“Willa Ann,” he says. “Now that I’ve got your attention. What happened there, you little slut.”
“We really need to work on your whispering skills. And I am not a little slut,” I say. “I’m a big slut.”
Evan laughs too loud. People turn and stare.
“I will tell you all the details later as long as you promise to show the tiniest bit of discretion. Can you manage that?”
“I genuinely don’t know.”
Everyone’s attention has shifted toward the reception hall. The crowd migrates in that direction.
“Must be dinner.”
“Must be,” Ev says. “Shall we?”
We follow the crowd. As we travel under the center floral arch, the wind blows, and the arch sways, and I swear I hear a voice. Voices. Little whispers. Giggles.
“Did you say something?” I ask Evan. “Do you hear something?”
“Just you breathing. Why are you panting like that?”
“I’m not panting,” I say, pulling away from him. Is my anxiety really that loud?
“You sound like a sprinter. Or an adult film star.”
“If only.” I drag my feet, and he gets a few paces ahead of me.
I turn back to the floral arches, and they’re moving. I see them moving. I’m watching it happen. Watching them step toward me. Follow me. They’re following me.
And then…they stop.
But the evidence is there. The arches are uneven, bases unaligned.
I’m about to call out for Evan when the wind blows hard, and the arches sway, and my credibility is swept into the long, devious shadow of ambiguity. He’ll blame the breeze. And how do I argue with that?
How do I explain that I think there’s something wrong with the flowers?