Until We Meet Again (10 page)

Not asleep. I’m lying under the covers with my eyes
closed because they’re sore from crying. It’s been a day and a
half since I last saw Lawrence. Not even two days since I told
him, and yet it feels like two years.

So when the ringtone blasts into the silence of my room, I
spring out of bed, hoping it’s him. Then I remember that it
couldn’t possibly be him and my heart sinks. It’s Jade. I consider letting the call go to voice mail, but at the last second
I answer.

“Hi, Jade.”
“Hey there,” she says. “You haven’t sent me ten texts a day
lately. So, I figure you’re either finally having a good time or
you’ve died in some tragic accident.”
Funny she should mention tragic deaths…
“Please tell me you found yourself some New England hottie
to pass the time.”
“Ha,” I say, bitterly.
“Come on, Cass. You’re telling me you can’t find one acceptable member of the male species out there?”
“I’m not telling you that.”
“So, you found a guy then?”
I flop back on my bed, staring at the ceiling.
Jade interprets my silence. “Oh my gosh,” she gasps. “You
did, didn’t you? You totally got yourself a boyfriend!”
“I wouldn’t call him a boyfriend exactly.”
“Cass! This is fabulous!” She sighs. “Summer love. C’est
magnifique!”
Her joy only twists the knife in my gut.
“Tell me everything,” Jade says. “I want every minute detail.”
I wish I could tell her. But there’s no point in trying to explain
how I’m falling for a guy from 1925. Still, I ache to share this
grief with someone.
“He’s amazing,” I say.
Jade gives a happy little squeal. I close my eyes and picture
Lawrence. “Trust me when I say you’ve never met anyone like
him. He’s smart, deep…different.”
“And hot? Is he hot?”
“Very.”
“I’m stunned. Seriously. I’m so happy for you, Cass.”
“Well, don’t be. It’s all over now.”
“What?”
I turn over on the bed. Through the closed curtains of my
window, I can see a single line of sunlight. The same sun
shining on the beach. The same sun shining on 1925 and
Lawrence.
“We broke up.”
“Why?”
“Because. It’s complicated. Trust me.”
Jade sounds outraged. “You have to tell me. What guy in his
right mind would break up with you?”
“He didn’t. Not really. It wasn’t like that.”
“Well, what was it like?”
I search for the words to most closely convey the situation.
“He’s…leaving in nine days. And I’ll never be able to see him
again. Or talk to him.”
“Why? Is he going to Mars or something? Good grief, Cass,
I’m sure he’ll have a cell phone.”
“He just won’t, okay? It’s not his fault. That’s just the way it
is. We decided we might as well cut it off now. Before anyone
gets hurt.”
Jade is quiet for a moment. Then I hear her scoff in the angry
way she does when faced with social injustices.
“That’s ridiculous, Cass. And you know it.”
I flop my face on the pillow. It’s pointless to try to explain
this to her.
“If you guys care about each other, you fight for it,” she says.
“I don’t know what these insurmountable reasons are for you
never being able to see each other again, but A, it’s not for nine
days, so why aren’t you enjoying every last second together?
And B, since when are you the type to give up?”
“There are some things you just can’t fight, okay?”
Jade scoffs. “The Cass I know wouldn’t let anything stop her
if she’d found real love.”
Her words needle right into my heart. I squeeze back the tears.
“I have to go. My mom’s calling me.”
There’s a silence. Knowing Jade, she’s probably forming some
final, poignant line that will cut into my soul, and I just can’t
handle that right now.
“I’ll call you later,” I say, and I press the button to hang up.
But the screen doesn’t go blank. Frowning, I look down.
Another call has come through right as I ended with Jade, and
I’ve answered it. I put the phone up to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Cass.”
It’s Brandon. How perfect.
“Oh…hi, Brandon.”
“Just calling to remind you about the lacrosse game. The
other night at dinner, you said you’d come. I didn’t hear
anything from you this week, so I wanted to make you sure
you remembered.”
“Right. Um…about that—”
“It’s gonna be really awesome. My friend Sara’s going to
save you a seat right up front. Then we’re grabbing dinner at
Reed’s after.”
“It sounds great, but—”
“Then you’re coming?”
“Well…”
“I talked to your mom earlier. She’s cool with it. She said you’d
mentioned it and wanted to go. I’ll pick you up at six, okay?”
I smack my hand on my forehead and drag it wearily down my
face. This day just keeps getting better. Now Mom’s involved.
She’ll carry me out to the car herself if I show any resistance.
“Okay,” I say, trying not to show my irritation. “Guess I’ll
see you then.”
“Sweet.”
“Super sweet.”
Setting my jaw, I hang up the phone. Memo to me: Kill
Mom when this date is over.

The lacrosse game ends up being just as dull and uncomfortable as I imagined. Sara’s a reasonably nice person, but we
have nothing in common, so we sit through the entire game
with nothing but the most basic, necessary words exchanged
between us.

Dinner at Reed’s offers the first ray of sunshine in the form
of a delightful cheeseburger and strawberry milk shake. My
enjoyment is tainted, however, by two things. First, the entire
conversation at dinner revolves around a heroic and detailed
play-by-play of the game I just sat through. Needless to say, I
have little to offer. The second problem is Brandon’s uncomfortable closeness. He’s practically glued to my side. I chalk it
up to the tiny booths in the diner but fear that after we part
ways with Jake and Sara, the behavior will only get worse.

Further proof of this comes when Brandon drives me back
the “long way.” It’s a dark coastal road, barren of civilization.
I’m on to his scheme.

“It’s only eleven,” Brandon says. “Besides, I want to show you
this really pretty spot. It’s just up the road.”
After winding around a few more curves, we arrive at a
sprawling pullout overlooking the ocean. The dotted lights of
mansions sprinkle across an otherwise black landscape. To the
right is the shimmer of the ocean. Fragments of the moon lie
across the water like broken glass. Brandon puts his car in park.
I turn to him, one eyebrow raised. “Really?”
“What?” He asks, a twinge of nervousness in his voice.
“Taking me to Make-Out Point, huh?”
“No! It’s a great view, that’s all.”
I roll my eyes.
“I swear!” he insists.
“Okay, well, if you took me here to enjoy the view, let’s get
out of the car. You can see better outside anyway.”
Brandon hesitates, but when I angrily fold my arms across
my chest, he throws up his hands in surrender. “Fine. We’ll get
out of the car.”
Slamming the door behind me, I march over to the stone
wall. The sight of the ocean in the distance fills me with a
flash of sharp joy, followed by familiar despair. I bet it’s a
beautiful night on the beach. What would Lawrence and I
do tonight if we were together? A walk out to the point? A
swim? Maybe a kiss? Even if we just sat together talking, it
would be perfection.
My eyes slide closed. I think of Lawrence’s lips on mine.
Why? Why does it have to be this way? Why can’t Lawrence be
the one taking me up to the make-out point?
“Nice night.” Brandon’s voice interrupts my sad thoughts.
He comes up beside me, leaning against the wall.
“Yep.”
He taps his finger on the rough stone. “Are you pissed at me,
Cass?”
It’s a flicker of the insecure, nervous Brandon from the Travis
reality. I soften. “No,” I say. “I’m not. I’ve just had a crappy
couple of days.”
“Is everything all right? You look…really sad.”
He doesn’t know the half of it. I shrug. “I’ll be okay.”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Is it about your stepdad and your mom? It was really hard
for me when my parents got divorced. I know how it goes.”
I nod. He might as well think that’s my problem, since I can’t
very well say I’m mourning the loss of a boy I met from the
1920s who’s destined to die in a week.
Brandon puts his arm around my shoulders. “I’m here for
you if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
He doesn’t move his arm. I give him a sidelong look. It seems
rude to tell him to keep his paws off me when he’s being really
nice. Besides, as lonely and down as I’ve been feeling the last
few days, it’s kind of nice to be hugged.
Noticing my lack of resistance, Brandon goes in for a bit
more. He brings his other arm around me and pulls me to him.
The strong, sharp smell of his cologne reminds me of Lawrence,
and a tendril of guilt tugs at me. I shouldn’t even be here with
Brandon, let alone allow him to hold me.
But what difference does it make? I’m never going to see
Lawrence again. No one will in a week. Am I never supposed
to have another boyfriend out of loyalty to some guy I knew for
a month in the summer?
Brandon’s hand slides up my back, cupping my neck. His lips
brush against my forehead. My heart aches. Lawrence isn’t just
some guy I knew. He’s special. I can’t betray that. What I could
have with Brandon would be easy, but it would never be real.
What I have with Lawrence is real.
Jade’s words ring in my ears. The Cass I know wouldn’t let
anything stop her if she’d found real love.
The realization settles upon me all at once. What Lawrence
and I have… It’s real. It’s love. And Jade is right. That’s worth
fighting for.
This doesn’t have to be the end. I don’t know why I didn’t see
it this way all along. Just because the newspaper said he was
murdered doesn’t mean I have to accept that. Lawrence is here
now. He’s clearly not dead yet. We can fight this. We can make
sure he lives.
With a start, I pull away from Brandon.
“Is everything okay?”
“I need to go home, Brandon.”
“Um…”
He looks hurt. I have to think fast. “I feel really queasy.
Like…I think I’m going to puke.”
That backs him up quickly enough. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t—”
“It’s okay. I started to feel it in the restaurant, but I didn’t
want to ruin things. It was really nice of you to take me out.” I
head for the car. “You’d better get me home though.”
It’s possible that Brandon doesn’t buy my story completely,
but either way, he gets into his car. I lie back in the seat and
close my eyes to sell the sick routine.
We spend the drive back to my house in relative silence. As I
play sick, my head spins with thoughts. Can Lawrence really fight
this? Can I help? Can the two of us actually change the past? I’m
itching to get to the beach and discuss the idea with him.
In the driveway, Brandon jams his car into park. I’m already
out of my seat belt and opening the door. It takes everything in
me not to run straight for the beach. I bend down to the open
car window.
“Thanks for dinner,” I say to Brandon.
He gives a strained smile, as if he’s pissed that the night got
cut short, but he knows he can’t actually be mad at me for
being sick. “Talk to you later?”
“Sure,” I say, already turning toward my house. “Bye!”
As I head in, I feel a twinge of guilt for lying and possibly hurting his feelings. But the fact is there are bigger things at stake.
Mom’s sitting with Frank on the couch. They’re both reading.
When I come in, Mom looks up with a big smile.
“Hey, there! Did you have a good time?”
“Um, awesome,” I say with a forced smile. “Really great.”
Frank pats a place on the couch beside them. “Well, come on
in and tell us about it, Cassie Pie.”
“Actually, I was thinking I’d go out for a little run.”
Mom cocks her head. “At this hour?”
“Yeah. I just need to clear my head. I would have gone
earlier, but you seemed so excited for me to go on that date
with Brandon.”
“I don’t feel good about it, Cass. It’s too dark and—”
“I’ll stay on our property,” I say, perhaps too enthusiastically.
“That was what I was thinking anyway. I’ll run on the beach.”
Mom gives Frank a hesitant frown but then sighs in surrender. “Fine. On the property. Nowhere else.”
“Absolutely.”
To keep from being a complete liar, I run all the way to
the beach. I probably would have run anyway, but there you
have it. As I burst through the bushes, my heart feels crushed
with the weight of a dozen conflicting emotions. I long to
see Lawrence again, but I’m afraid of how he might react to
me now, knowing what he knows. I’m filled with hope at the
thought of fighting his fate, but also with pulsing, radiating
fear. This isn’t a small thing we’re going up against, fighting the
course of history.
The sight of Lawrence will calm me. That’s what I need.
But the beach is empty.
I walk out to the water’s edge with a heavy heart. Part of me
knew he wouldn’t be here. If I learned that I was going to be
murdered on this beach, I’d stay far away from it for sure. I pick
up a rock and toss it into the white-tipped waves. If I knew I
was going to die, I think it would change a lot of the things I
did. I can’t expect Lawrence to be any different.
Despair pushes against me, though I try to fight it off. Maybe
I shouldn’t fight it. Maybe it’s smart to acknowledge that I
might never see Lawrence again.
I turn back for the house after a while. In my mind, I can
almost see the faint figure of Lawrence passing through the
narrow path. My resolve strengthens. Seeing him again would
be worth any amount of pain. I vow right then to return to the
beach every day and night until I see him again. Fighting for
Lawrence means not giving up on him. Not now, not ever.

At first, I think it must be a hallucination. He’s sitting on
the sand in a white linen shirt. His hair looks messier than
normal, but in a way so endearing and sexy that I want to bite
my fist. When he turns, I know he’s real. He looks pale. Dark
circles ring his eyes. This is someone who has come face-to-face
with his own death. The sight of him, so vulnerable and alone,
breaks down any semblance of control I had on the situation.

I run to him and he jumps to his feet to meet me halfway.
We collide in a fierce embrace. For a long while, we do nothing
but hold each other. Then, he takes my face in his hands and
kisses me. The feel of his lips pressing against mine fills me with
trembling heat. I hook my arms around his neck, squeezing
my eyes shut and trying to ignore the pain that still sits on my
heart. The only thing that matters right now is this kiss.

Lawrence breaks away, winded and flushed. His eyes scan
my face, taking in every detail, and then he presses his forehead to mine.

“I was hoping you’d come,” he says breathlessly.
My voice trembles. “I didn’t know if you’d be here.”
He holds me to him. “I’ve been waiting since before dawn.”
“You have?”
“I didn’t want to miss the chance to see you again.”
I exhale, pressing my face into his chest and wanting to crush

my very being into his.
“I’ve decided something,” he says as he kisses my hair. “If I
have to die, I’d be crazy not to spend as much time as possible
with you.”
My heart beats strong and fast. Being close to him like this,
everything feels so perfect, so right. “I’ve decided something
too,” I say. “You’re not going to die.”
He steps back to meet my gaze.
“We’re going to fight this, Lawrence. There’s no reason we
can’t fight it.”
His brows come together. “Fight it?”
“Yes,” I say firmly.
He sighs. “And how will we do that? I’m going to die,
Cassandra. You read the newspaper.”
“But there’s time.”
“Yes, but if there was any way to stop it, you’d never have
read about it in the first place. The fact that you saw that article
means it will. There’s nothing we can do.”

I grip his shoulders. “I refuse to accept that.”
“Refuse all you like. That won’t change anything.”
I want to shake him. “Don’t be this way! We can beat it,

I grab his hands and lead him to our favorite spot on the
beach. We sit side by side. He squeezes my fingers so tightly it
almost hurts. He’s afraid. How can he not be? “Does it say?” he
asks, not meeting my eyes.

“Does it say what?”
“Does the newspaper say how I die?”
The question punches me right in the gut. It’s almost as bad

as telling him the first time. “Don’t make me…”
“I want to know.”
“I can’t.”
“Please, Cassandra. I have a right to know.”
It’s true. But even still, the words stick in my throat like

drying cement. “Murder,” I whisper. “It said murder.”
The frightened look on his face crushes me.
“It doesn’t matter what it says.”
He gives a bitter, mirthless laugh. “How can it not matter?”
“Because it’s not going to happen,” I insist. “You’re not destined to die this young. I refuse to believe that. I’ve given this
a lot of thought. Maybe what’s destined is that I was meant
to meet you on this beach. I was meant to find that article.
Maybe that’s why I can see you. Because I’m supposed to
save you.”
He processes the thought wordlessly.
“See? Then everything makes sense,” I say. “This summer,

before I met you, I was lost. I knew something was missing in
my life, but I had no idea what. Now I know. I came to this
awful house so that I could meet you and save your life.”

“I suppose it’s possible,” Lawrence says carefully.
“It’s the only explanation that fits! But even if it wasn’t true…
Even if fate had nothing to do with it, I’m here now and I can
save you.”
He sets a hand on my cheek, his eyes intense. “You really
think so?”
I press my hand over his. “I do.” I sound more confident than
I feel, but I want to give Lawrence hope. We both need that.
He’s silent.
“You don’t have to believe me just yet,” I say softly. “But will
you at least let me try?’
“I suppose I can’t stop you.”
“Not really, no.”
The corner of his mouth turns up in a half smile. “I think you
might be a little crazy, Cassandra.”
“A little?”
He laughs. “Okay, a lot.”
“That’s more like it.”