Chapter 17
Carly
One minute, Carly had been squeezing Adam’s hand so tightly that her own had started to cramp, and the next she found herself
surrounded by the harsh overhead lighting of the funeral home.
She stared at the coffin. What if she only got to be in the same room with her dad a handful more times? If she’d understood
what Dr. Song and Adam were saying, then the loop ending could mean that they just disappeared. Was that possible?
Carly pushed out of the chair and placed her hands on the casket. “Dad?” She looked down to where he rested. “There’s some
really scary shit going on. Scarier than a time loop. If you’re watching over me, could you . . . I don’t know, send a sign
of what to do?”
She waited, hoping for a signal, when a creak in the floorboard sounded. Carly turned to see a flame-haired giant. She glanced
back to where her dad was. “You’re hilarious,” she said to the casket.
“What was that?” Adam’s deep voice ricocheted around the space.
“Nothing.” Carly’s cheeks flushed as she turned back to him. There he was—rumpled hair, tie slightly askew, long arms dangling
at his sides—same as always, but also different. She’d kissed this version of Adam. He’d . . . tasted her, made her come.
She’d felt how hard he’d grown when she moaned . . .
“How are you feeling about everything?” he asked.
Carly shook off her desire and started down the aisle of chairs. “Overwhelmed,” she said. “My ADHD brain isn’t helping. I
just keep pinging between all these thoughts. Not sure where to even begin, really.”
“I think fresh air is supposed to be good, in general.” Adam cocked his head to the side, then said, “Come on, let me take
you somewhere.”
Carly found that she couldn’t say no to that offer if she tried. She followed Adam outside and imagined he’d lead her down
a quiet little country road, as Julian was chock full of those. But no, Adam didn’t take her somewhere serene. Instead, he
walked her to the graveyard across from the funeral home.
“Gee, for a funeral director you sure are morbid,” Carly said.
“For a writer, you’re very astute.” He gave her a sideways glance. “Shireen used to call this place spooky. I’ve always thought it was kind of peaceful.”
Then, to prove his point, a mother deer and fawn grazed on an empty patch of grass on the side of one hill.
“Don’t they have any respect for the dead?” Carly nodded to the deer.
“They buck tradition,” he said back.
“Hear that, everybody? The man makes jokes!” Carly called out. Then quieter, she said, “I didn’t hear anyone laugh, but I thought it was funny.”
For a moment, this felt normal. Like they were just flirting—flirting? Yes, she supposed that was what this banter was—and not about to be sucked into a void, as Dr. Song had so delicately put it. Adam led them to an open clearing with five plots, each with elaborate headstones
that featured multiple family photos behind glass.
“This family is from Italy,” he said. “Apparently, a lot of Italians feature photos of the person throughout their life on
the tombstones. I always thought that was nice, to remember someone as they were in life, versus where they were buried.”
“Hard to forget where someone is buried when you start every day looking at their coffin,” Carly said, going for sarcasm.
“Sorry, I have to have my jokes or things get dark real fast.”
Adam sat on the grass and patted a spot next to him, which she took.
“We didn’t get to talk about this wormhole thing without Dr. Song,” Carly said. “And by the way, what the hell is her deal—to
not even ease into the ‘We all might be about to die!’ subject with something a little lighter? I mean, she kind of scared
the fuck out of me.”
Carly looked to Adam. This was the part where he was going to reassure her that Dr. Song was being a catastrophist, and they
really had nothing to worry about. He was going to say that a wormhole meant they’d return to normal in a few short loops.
“You’re right, we didn’t.” Adam let out a sigh as he picked at a long blade of grass. “I know you’re like this goth optimist—”
She cut him off. “Excuse me, goth optimist?”
Adam ignored her and carried on. “I can’t paint you a pretty picture, because we just really don’t know if what’s coming is bad or good. I wish I could tell you different.”
She wanted to scoot closer, but now she was getting scared, too. “Do you think she’s right about the loop being a wormhole?”
He looked out across the field, then said, “If wormholes exist, they would appear round, like a black hole, much like our eclipse. Einstein said that space and time work
together, and space is elastic. So maybe, somehow, a kind of wormhole opened up in Julian and trapped us here. It’s possible.”
A wormhole. The idea of that felt so absurd, and not only because the word wormhole was mildly funny. But how could something that scientists didn’t even fully believe in just suddenly happen in this random
town?
“Okay, so let’s say that this scientific theory is real and it happened here. My question is, how?” Carly splayed her fingers in front of her for a little extra oomph.
Adam gave her a weak smile. “From what I’ve read, wormholes are caused by exotic matter—which just means a substance science
hasn’t yet encountered. That exotic matter has something called negative mass, which makes antigravity. And that is what keeps a wormhole open. So, basically some exotic matter had to have entered Julian to cause a wormhole to pop up here.
The negative mass is what’s keeping the loop going.”
“But the loop is shortening.” Carly felt like she was following but needed Adam to confirm.
“Yes. If this is a wormhole, it’s closing because gravity works to pinch wormholes closed. Basically, there’s not enough negative
mass to keep it open. So, now it’s closing.”
Okay, that all made sense. Maybe she was better at science than she originally thought. “But how do we get out before it closes
on us? Or how do we keep it open?” she asked.
“To keep it open, we’d need to add more negative mass—but finding that exotic matter in time would be impossible at the rate we’re going.” Adam pursed his lips.
“But it might not be a wormhole.”
“It might not be.” He scratched at the scruff on his beard.
Carly erred on the hopeful side and offered, “Maybe a plot twist will come in act three to save us all.”
Adam pointed to her knee, which she hadn’t realized had been bouncing from anxiety. He gently placed a hand on top of it.
She muttered, “So what do we do now?”
“I don’t think there’s much to do. If the pace keeps up, then we only have a handful of loops left. We just have to make the
most of that time.”
“You’re giving up?” Carly went on bouncing her knee again. “What about the rest of the town? Shouldn’t we tell them what’s
happening?”
“Maybe? But I don’t feel great about any of this. It’s sort of like going to a psychic and she tells you when you’re going
to die, and then you have to pretend like everything’s normal.”
“There’s a lot to unpack there. First, you said the word psychic, as if you’ve been to one, but more importantly, you think we’re going to die?” Carly could feel her brows pinching themselves
together from the disbelief of this conversation. She and Adam had been a team only a few hours ago—working tirelessly, and
sexily, to stop the loop. But now he was suggesting they enjoy their last moments and give up?
“I . . .” He licked his lips, started again. “I honestly don’t know. Anything is possible.”
Carly chewed on her lip so hard she was afraid she might draw blood. They sat there for a long time and said nothing. Her
thoughts jostled from one thing to the next.
Maybe Adam and Dr. Song are wrong.
Maybe we can find more exotic matter.
Maybe it’s time to go eat alllllll the cheese wedges.
“I need to tell my parents about this.” Adam hugged his knees to his chest. “I’m not even sure they’ll believe me. But it
feels like I should let them know what’s happening. Maybe Shireen, too.”
“Do you want me to come? We can tell them and then get back to work on the loop.” Carly wasn’t going to let Adam give up.
She wasn’t giving up, so he didn’t get to, either.
But then he said, “I think I should do this on my own.”
And while she shouldn’t have been hurt, something about that really stung. “Oh, okay.”
Adam stood and extended a hand so she could pull herself up. She ignored it and stood on her own. Carly was close enough to
smell that buttery scent of his and, if she’d wanted, reach up and pull him down. But he’d just closed a door. Why had he
done that?
“You can’t just give up. What about the shadow bands?” But even as the words came out, she knew this wasn’t a battle she was
going to win. His eyes were set, his jaw clenched, as if he’d made up his mind and Carly was merely in the way.
“My parents deserve to know what’s coming. And Shireen . . .” He took in a deep breath. “I feel I owe it to her to at least
say something. The shadow bands can wait.”
Adam seemed to always be worried about what everyone else thought. He’d skipped a chance at Caltech, all because his parents
didn’t understand his goals. And something about him going out of his way to help everyone but himself really irked her. “I
get that, but what do you want, Adam?”
He pursed his lips and looked past her. She sensed this was a moment where he could take a risk or retreat to what he was
comfortable with. And as the seconds ticked on, Carly had the sinking feeling that she knew what he’d choose.
“I’m going to tell them,” he eventually said.
“I want you to tell them,” Carly clarified. “But I don’t think you should just assume Dr. Song has all the answers and give
up trying. I’ve met you, Adam. You know so much more than you’re giving yourself credit for.”
Adam seemed to absorb that. Carly wondered if he’d change his mind and agree to meet up later to work on their theories. But
instead, he said, “Can I give you a ride to town?”