Autumn's Wish (12 page)

It's a bogus question, meant only for J.J., but Jack takes it seriously and rambles on about the emotional state of the
Star Wars
character through all the movies. I force myself to look very interested and nod a lot, but really I keep glancing at J.J. His lips are pursed and he keeps looking down, trying to hide his smile.

That evening it's the same as the night before. He comes over—with a pizza this time—and we watch another movie. This one's called
1776.
It's a
musical
about the Declaration of Independence with some songs so truly dippy that I have to stand on the couch and make up my own words as I sing along.

“Come on!” J.J. laughs. “You have to listen to the words.”

“My words are better,” I say. “You're just jealous 'cause you're not as quick.”

“Seriously?” J.J. asks, and of course the next second he's on his feet, too, killing me with his own version of the song that's all about Mr. Winthrop and his quest to be the coolest teacher at school. When the song's over, I bow to his superior songwriting skill and we plop back down to watch the rest of the movie.

At least, I'm
supposed
to be watching the rest of the movie. Instead I'm suddenly very aware of the inches between us on the couch. It feels solid, like the space between two magnets, when they're so close you know if you bring them even a millimeter closer they'll snap together. And even though I'm watching John Adams sing and dance, I'm seeing J.J. and me the way we were last year over Thanksgiving break. When he'd come over and we'd watch movies right here on this couch, only he'd have his arm around me and I'd lay my head on his shoulder. When it was good between us, before I got all mixed up with Sean and didn't want J.J. anymore.

Was that a mistake? I mean, I was totally wrong about being with Sean. Was I wrong about
not
being with J.J.?

I push the thoughts out of my mind and try to concentrate on history, but the same thing happens Thursday night. I try to concentrate on the movie, but all I can think about is the way J.J. looked at me the first time he said he was crazy about me. The way it felt when he surprised me with our first kiss.

I wonder…as long as I'm mixing things up for the Scare Pair dance, why don't I pair myself with J.J.?

No. That's insane. I messed J.J. up big-time when we went out before. We're finally friends again. I'm not going to risk that. I can't even dream about possibly, maybe, in the slightest, tiniest way even hinting to him that I'm feeling this way unless I know it's real and deep and about more than just loving him as a friend.

Still, I can't help but wonder…if my plan works and he and Carrie break up…will he end up with Mariah, or is there a chance he could end up with me?

I know one way to find out. That night in bed, I pull the locket from underneath my giant T-shirt and open it up. I set it for five months from now. That'll be next year, so I flip the year wheel as well, only I accidentally spin it way too far and have to spin it back to get to the year I want. Then I snap the locket closed, hold it in my palm, and concentrate on J.J. and me and what's to come.

I'm standing in the middle of an island. Not a desert island, a kitchen island, which I realize when I look down and see my stomach end in a slab of granite countertop. It's disconcerting, but only slightly less disconcerting than hearing my own voice behind me.

“You're sure it's not horrible we're crashing your anniversary?”

I spin around, the counter still bisecting me, and I gasp.

It's not that seeing Future Me is a shock. It's not, not anymore. What
is
a shock is this particular Future Me. She looks way older than me five months from now. Did I set the locket correctly? I yank on the chain and pull it out, then open it up and examine the date. The month and day are right…but when I hold the locket close and squint at the year I see it's not set for next year at all. It's
six years
from now. Or from
then,
when I left. So assuming Future Me went to college, she graduated two years ago.

I examine this Future Me for any clues about her. She looks a little different than other Future Mes. More professional and less casual, but maybe that's because this is the oldest I've ever seen her. Her orange hair is shorter than I wear it now, just above her shoulders. She has bangs, and her hair hangs so straight I know we're nowhere near Florida and its humidity. She wears jeans with a funky dark blue/light blue patch pattern on them and a giant brown sweater that looks so cozy I want to climb into it with her.

“It's our
dating
anniversary” comes a reply, and I finally rip my eyes away from my future self to see who I'm talking to.

“Jenna!” I scream. “See? I
told
you you're alive! And you're beautiful! Look at your hair!”

I run through the kitchen island and reach out to play with the blond corkscrew curls that sprout out of her head and hang down to the middle of her neck, but of course my fingers pass right through them. Jenna would lose her mind if she knew she'd traded her eternal ponytail for this cut. She'd totally freak out if she saw her always-bare face painted with red-red lipstick, blush, and eye shadow, even though the effect is completely subtle and sophisticated. At least she'd be happy with the outfit. I could see her in these heather-gray leggings, boots, and oversized off-white cable-knit sweater.

“You're killing me with this,” I tell her. “I would literally die to get a picture of you right now and show it to you when I get back.”

Future Jenna grabs a bottle of white wine from the refrigerator. As she uncorks it, she says, “Dating anniversaries only matter until you're married and have a
real
anniversary.”

Future Me rolls her eyes. “You just got married six months ago. You haven't even
had
a real anniversary yet.”

“Wait,
what?!
” I shout. “You're
married?!
Who's the guy? Is it Sam? Are you with Sam?”

“Doesn't matter,” Jenna says. “Dating anniversary still loses. Besides, no way was I going to let you come to Colorado and not stay with me.”

“Stay with you?” I echo. “This is your
house
?” I look around the gorgeously huge kitchen, with its stainless steel refrigerator and wood cabinets and giant island that served as my skirt when I first appeared in the room. Jenna's not only alive in the future, but she's also kicking butt.

She pours herself and Future Me a glass of wine and grabs two extra wineglasses; then I follow them into the living room. It looks like a ski lodge, complete with a sloped wood-beamed roof, a giant fireplace with a crackling fire, and sink-in couches. I listen in while Jenna and Future Me talk, but I also snoop around the room so I can soak up all the information I can. From what I gather, Jenna's married not to Sam but to a guy named Simon. They ran together in college, and I figure out it was the University of Oregon because I see an afghan with the college logo on it draped over another couch. There are pictures on the wall of Jenna and Simon's wedding. He's exactly her type: tall and athletic-looking, with sandy-blond hair and striking blue eyes.

“Jenna! He's so cute! And look at us!” I gush, pointing to another picture of the two of us grinning and mushing our cheeks together. She's in her bridal gown and I'm wearing a gorgeous baby-blue dress. There are other girls wearing a similar dress in the background of the photo, but mine has a slightly different neckline, like it's supposed to stand out and be different. I gasp. “I was your maid of honor, wasn't I?”

Jenna doesn't answer. She's still talking to Future Me, and I realize I'm missing valuable intel, so I move closer and listen in. Future Me is asking Jenna about business, and I get that Jenna and Simon are all outdoors, all the time. They run a ski camp in the winter and a kids' adventure camp in the summer, and spend spring and fall just enjoying themselves and prepping for the other seasons. They don't make a ton of money, but Simon's family bought them the house as a wedding present, and they make enough for everything else they need.

“Jenna, this is perfect,” I gush. “I promise you, back in my time, you and I are going to work together to make sure all this comes true.”

Just then, Future Me, Jenna, and I turn at the sounds of jingling and footsteps outside the front door. Jenna grins to Future Me. “The boys are back.”

“The boys?” I ask. Then I remember the two extra wineglasses Jenna brought in from the kitchen. It would have to be her husband, right? And…

“Hey!” Simon calls as he opens the door, and I'm surprised and thrilled to hear his British accent. His cheeks are red from the cold and he's bundled in a thick coat, but I only glance at him before I'm completely distracted by his two giant black Labs. They bound inside and race up to Future Me, tails wagging furiously.

“Adorable accent…and
dogs
!” I squeal it to Jenna, but she's already up off the couch and out of my sight, I assume off wrapping herself around Simon. “I can't even deal with the level of perfection.”

“Hey.”

The voice comes from behind me. It turns my whole body to liquid, and my blood rushes closer to my skin.

I'm afraid to turn around, but I don't know what scares me: being right, or being wrong. Instead I keep my eyes on Future Me. She looks up toward the sound of the voice and smiles. It's a smile that's familiar, but I've never seen it on my own face. It takes a second before I recognize it. Future Me has the same look on her face that my mom and dad had whenever they looked at each other.

Okay, not
whenever
they looked at each other. That would be weird and kind of disturbing. But it would happen a lot. Not just in romantic moments like when they were toasting their anniversary or he heard a song they loved on the radio and swept her into his arms to dance, but little nothing moments like when he'd make a really dumb joke or when she came in from gardening all dirty and disheveled. They'd just look at each other with this doe-eyed expression that said nothing in the world meant as much to them as one another. Erick and I used to roll our eyes and make gagging noises whenever we caught them at it, but we both secretly loved it. We knew it meant they were crazy in love…just like Future Me is crazy in love with the voice behind me. The voice I know too well to second-guess.

I don't have to turn around to see. J.J. Austin walks right through me on his way to my future self. He looks like himself…only better. His jeans show off the muscles in his legs, and his shoulders are broader underneath his blue tucked-in button-down shirt. His face is more chiseled, and he has a light scruff of facial hair that I never would dream would work on J.J., but it totally does.

It's not just his body that's different, though. It's the way he carries himself. He moves like he's completely confident and comfortable in his skin. He sits down next to Future Me and kisses me…
us…
effortlessly, like he does it all the time. It's a take-it-for-granted kiss, but not in the kind of blow-off way we shared when I felt smothered and I wanted to get out. Our lips linger together, and when we pull away we're both smiling like nothing in the universe could make us happier than staring into each other's eyes forever.

“Enough!” Jenna declares from the couch opposite us, where she and Simon sit close together. She has her knees curled up onto the couch and Simon's arm is around her, but she ducks away just long enough to fill everyone's wineglasses and hand them out. “You get each other all the time. We only get to see you when you visit. Tell us everything.”

Future Me and J.J. do as she asks. The two of them—the two of
us
—talk animatedly, bubbling over one another and finishing each other's sentences, but never rudely. Each interruption only picks up the story with more energy, and whichever one of us is cut off just smiles at the other, fascinated, as if hearing the next part of the story for the first time, until we're inspired to jump back in. All the while, we're constantly in contact. I reach out and touch his knee. He puts his hand on my back. We lace our fingers together. We do it all automatically, like we're moving together as a single being, with no boundaries between us.

I don't get our whole history from J.J. and Future Me. They recap some things Jenna has to already know but leave out big obvious things like when we got together. I have no idea if it was at Aventura High or in college. I don't even know if we went to the
same
college. What I do learn is that we must have been together at college graduation, because that's when we decided to pool any money presents we got and put them into a joint savings account we opened just for this purpose. It doesn't seem like we lived together after graduation, or even lived in the same city, but we both had jobs and put part of our paychecks into that account every month. Finally, after we'd saved for a year and a half, we each wangled four months away from work to empty out our vacation account and take a massive road trip around the country.

“Like the road trips you planned for us when we first went out,” Future Me says, grinning at J.J., and I'm stunned because I was thinking the exact same thing. I'm even more stunned that J.J. doesn't seem upset by the memory. I mean, our first time going out wasn't exactly a huge success. But I guess since everything ended with us together, it's all just part of our story.

“And we're the last stop?” Simon asks. “We're honored.”

“Beyond honored,” Jenna seconds. She raises her glass. “A toast!”

“Wait,” J.J. says. “I think you'll want to hold that a second.”

He pales a little and swallows hard, and for a second I see the quirky, skinny, sunburned boy I met on my first day at Aventura High. Then he takes a deep breath and gets down on one knee.

My heart thuds so loud I'm sure everyone can hear it.

He's down on one knee. Is he…?

I look at Future Me to see what she thinks. Her eyes are wide and her face is flushed. She stares down at J.J. with this weird mix of elation and fear, like she can't actually believe he's about to do what it seems like he's about to do.

I move right next to her. I want to move
into
her, so I'm looking through her eyes and seeing what she sees, but no matter how much I want to, the idea totally weirds me out, so I just get as close as I can.

J.J.'s trembling. I can see his hands shake as he reaches up and takes the hands of Future Me.

“Autumn,” he says, “I fell in love with you the first second I saw you, and I've loved you ever since. No one else in this world makes me as happy as you. No one makes me laugh as hard. And when things are bad, you're the one who makes them better. When I think about my life, I think about you there, next to me, always. I can't even imagine me without you, and I think I knew it even then, the day we met. Autumn…”

His voice cracks and he gives a nervous laugh. It's so sweet I can't help but smile, and I guess Future Me does the same thing because he smiles back, more relaxed. He swallows and takes another deep breath. When he finds his voice again, it's soft but strong.