Authors: Julie Cross
My heart raced. “Is he here? Have you talked to him?”
“No,” she said quietly, and I could see that her disappointment reflected mine.
“I have no idea why he left that for me. And
me
is the key word here … not
you
.”
She laughed a slightly insane cackle. “Right … it happens to belong to the girl you
danced with last night. Short … blond hair—”
“I know what she looks like,” I snapped. “Again … I don’t know her and I have no business
reading any of her personal belongings, and neither do you.”
“Really? That’s funny, because you’re all over this thing.” She flipped to the middle
of the book and I held my breath, waiting. “June twenty-third, 2009.
When I get to camp this morning, I have no idea what to expect from Jackson. I almost
feel more nervous than last night. We kissed. One incredibly hot, amazing kiss last
night. We established nothing. Decided nothing. So, yeah, today’s weird
.”
Oh, God … it can’t be … can it?
Something from another timeline that I hadn’t brought myself? Did that mean that
I had definitely created another timeline when I left Holly in August 2009? Eileen
seemed to think I may have done the Thomas-jump, but I doubted that. Especially after
my failed attempt last night.
Spots appeared in front of my face and I was nearly positive I’d pass out any second
so I sank down onto the bed. “No … no it’s not—”
“Not what, Jackson?” Stewart prodded with a scary edge to her voice. “Not a journal
documenting months of make-out sessions and some seriously fucked-up angst? You know,
she’s even got me in this thing? Oh … and then there’s the fact that pages and pages
have been devoted to August, September, October … 2009. As in
the future
…”
She got up and stood across from me. All I could do was wait and be ready for what
would inevitably come. There was no way she didn’t know about me now.
I didn’t expect the derisive laughter that followed. “All these fucking months I was
trying to figure you out! Do you know how crazy it’s been for me? I’ve known you since
you were seventeen. Knew everything about you … and then suddenly you’re an agent
and speak every fucking language in the goddamn universe. It all makes sense now …
perfect sense.”
Okay, here we go
. I moved my hand from the cell to the gun tucked under my pillow.
She tossed the diary onto the couch. “Displacement! That’s what fucking happened to
you, isn’t it?”
Huh?
“Huh?”
“Don’t look at me like that … You came from another timeline, didn’t you?”
Yeah
… or at least I’d thought so until Eileen … “Uh…”
Stewart stopped staring at me and started pacing across the floor. “So, something
happened to you or whatever … And they made one of the EOTs move you.” She froze in
place. “Or did they do it on their own … like as a threat to your dad, and now you’re
stuck here ’cause your brain might explode if you get moved back?”
My mouth hung open. I had no idea what to say or how the hell I had managed to keep
my secret a secret. She thought an EOT had changed my timeline … not that I
was
an EOT. Dr. Melvin told me about Displacement when I had jumped off the roof with
Holly that one time.
Go with it,
I told myself. “Um … yeah, something happened … and, well … it needed to not happen
again. So, yeah, you’re basically right. But I promised my dad I wouldn’t give all
the details. You know how it works. It’s not healthy for any of us to know too much
about the future.”
Now it was Stewart’s turn to let her jaw drop. “Damn … how far ahead were you? I mean,
you don’t look much older. Did you already start agent training? Because that would
explain the rapid progress.” She sighed, looking disappointed. “I guess you don’t
have to tell me if your dad said not to.”
“What if I just say it was less than a year in the future, and yes, I had some training?”
My heart still pounded and sweat dripped from everywhere, but Stewart was too fascinated
by the discovery to even notice these obvious signs of lying or concealing things.
Although most of it was true. Sort of.
She suddenly dove for the pink notebook again, flipping frantically. “Wait … I think
I know why you left that other timeline. The day before I found out you were our newest
recruit, I was assigned to follow you to work. But you weren’t there.” She stopped
on a page closer to the front and placed the notebook in my lap. “Here, read this.”
I looked down at the page and recognized Holly’s handwriting immediately.
MARCH 15
TH
, 2009
I work on Mars or maybe Jupiter. Seriously. It’s that weird. I’ve been to Manhattan
plenty of times, but mostly tourist places where normal middle-class people, like
myself, gather to look at something. Or whatever.
But people actually live on the Upper East Side. That’s just nuts. Oh and I made a
great first impression. Remind me not to walk and read at the same time because accidental
collision with very cute boy (I almost don’t want to write “boy,” but “man” sounds
creepy and “young man” sounds dorky) may occur. And if you’re really stupid and decide
to read, walk, and carry big strawberry smoothie at the same time, you may ruin the
cute boy’s shoes.
I was like, OMG!! But I’ll admit, he took it well. Actually, he laughed then saved
my book from the smoothie, which was awesome because I would have had nothing to read
on the way home.
For the rest of this month, it’s just training two nights a week, so no real work
yet. However, I did something really cool today when Mr. Wellborn, our camp director,
mentioned that his computer lab instructor for the camp took another job and he was
looking for someone with extensive computer knowledge. I got brave and raised my hand
and was like, “One of my good friends is going to MIT and just won the National Science
Fair. He’s awesome with kids and is looking for a job.”
Mr. Wellborn was really impressed and took Adam’s info. Adam will flip when he finds
out the pay and I know he’d like to get out of Jersey just as much as me. We’ve always
had that in common.
When I was leaving, the same guy I had run into earlier and ruined his shoes, walked
out the door, right in front of me. I watched him get into this long black car, waiting
for him out front. The driver (wearing a black suit and some kind of earpiece) even
ran around and opened the door for him. Seriously.
I rolled my eyes and I think he saw me because he smiled. Obviously he’s an Upper
East Side product, but why the hell does he need a job? Maybe court-appointed community
service? Wouldn’t really make sense given the pay rate for the job and all the applicants.
He should have been assigned to a camp for disadvantaged children in Harlem or something.
That’s all for now.
Love,
Holly
“That was you, wasn’t it?” Stewart asked, yanking the notebook from my lap. “The ruined-shoe
guy? That’s the day you met her … and the day you became a member of Tempest.” Stewart
looked at me and rolled her eyes. “And, what? She walked into the building, smoothie
still intact … so dramatic … and tragic. Did you pick the date? ’Cause that’s really
corny.”
“Yes,” I managed to say. This notebook was harder to swallow than any of the pictures
Dad had of her from his “source.”
“God, you’re such a pathetic loser,” she said with a groan.
I glared at her, and she looked slightly guilty. “Sorry, I’m sure it was heartbreaking …
but damn … how weird is it to, like, do the same day again?” she asked.
I let out a breath I’d been holding for I didn’t know how long. “You have no idea
how weird it is.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, looking more serious and businesslike. “You’re gonna
have to tell Kendrick. She’s all girlie and in love and I wouldn’t be surprised if
she plans another matchmaking session between you and Blondie. Obviously, whatever
made you need to be out of this girl’s life was too important to get screwed up with
another fifty-thousand-dollar dance.”
“Damn,” I muttered under my breath. “Was that really just last night … as in less
than twenty-four hours ago?”
Just the mention of last night caused Stewart’s face to darken, and I remembered how
angry she was, how she stormed off and no one heard from her. “Hey—where were you,
anyway?”
I stood up and she did the same, making a great effort out of closing Holly’s diary
and placing it in my hands. “Here … you should keep this.”
I set it on the counter and stepped closer to Stewart. “Come on … just tell me where
you went last night. No offense, but you look like hell.”
She moved toward me so quick, I was nearly positive it was an attack. But then she
kissed me … like she had a few days ago, except more urgent. I let it go for about
ten seconds, trying to rationalize the situation. It was obvious she wanted a distraction,
like I had the last time. I gently pried her off of me and grasped her shoulders firmly
with both hands.
“This is a bad idea.”
Her hands slipped into the front pocket of my shorts. “I think it’s a great idea.”
I shook my head right away. “Stewart, I know what you’re trying to do … I saw it happen,
too … I kept seeing it … seeing him … every time I closed my eyes last night—”
“Stop! Just shut up.” She tried to wiggle out of my grip, but I held on tighter.
“I’m not letting you run off again. Look at you. You still haven’t changed your clothes,
and … and…”
“And I’m wearing him, right? He exploded into bits and I’m just leaving him here …
splattered all over me.” Her voice cracked and a single tear ran down her cheek, washing
away some of the dirt.
I stared at her face, shocked by her tears, hating that I had to be caught up in someone
else’s grief. But it was almost easier to have this moment with Stewart than with
anyone else because she didn’t expect me to say something wise or brilliant. She wouldn’t
want me to say sorry or that everything would be okay … We could bypass all of that
bullshit.
I grabbed her and pulled her into a tight hug before she could run off. Her face pressed
against my shoulder and I could feel her whole body shaking. She went from pulling
away from me to clinging to me like I was a lifeline. After a couple minutes she mumbled
into my shoulder, “If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.”
“I won’t,” I promised. “In fact, I’ve already forgotten.”
She let go of me and sat down on the couch, leaning her head back and closing her
eyes. “I wish I were a fucking idiot so I could believe good things happen to people
after they die.”
No one had ever said more accurate and truthful words than those. It was the reason
I sucked at dealing with death. I could never get past the still, cold bodies … being
locked in a coffin … trapped … buried underground alone. Why couldn’t I have been
brainwashed by some religious cult? Forced into a belief system that included a happy
afterlife?
“I know what you mean. I’d gladly welcome a dose of blind faith right now.” I reached
down and grabbed Stewart’s hands, pulling her up so she was standing. “Come on. I’ll
turn on the shower for you. You can’t go back to your place looking like this.”
Or anywhere in public
.
She nodded, and I watched her carefully as she moved toward Mason’s bag and started
riffling through it, removing a Snow Patrol T-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants.
Just by the way she walked toward the bathroom I got the impression that Stewart must
have been up all night. And she took quite a few hard hits during yesterday’s fight.
I steered her by the shoulders and turned on the water, waiting for it to heat up.
Stewart leaned against the wall, closing her eyes.
“I remembered something else, too,” she mumbled sleepily. “Something about me and
you … and a jail cell.”
More 007 memories.
I kept my face as calm as possible in case her eyes opened again. “Huh … maybe we
got in a bar fight and the CIA didn’t want us to remember.”
She laughed. “If we did, I bet we kicked everybody’s ass.”
I lifted her shirt over her head and tossed it onto the floor. My eyes stayed focused
on the wall behind her. Even though I’d seen Stewart nearly naked the other night
and the following morning, it just didn’t feel right to look now. Maybe that meant
we didn’t hate each other anymore … like we’d formed some kind of friendship.
She left the rest of her clothes on the floor and I opened the shower door for her
and waited in the bathroom to make sure she didn’t fall over.
“Hey, Stewart?” I asked after a few minutes.
“Yeah?”
“My dad was giving me information … about Holly … in France. That’s why we snuck out
sometimes.”
She fumbled with the knob, so I reached in to turn off the water and handed her a
towel. “So, he was keeping it from everyone … not just the trainees?”
“No one else knew about Holly … until now, anyway,” I answered, the nerves leaking
into my voice.
Stewart threw on Mason’s clothes in silence and then stumbled out of the bathroom.
“I’m not gonna tell anyone about you and Blondie, if that’s what you’re wondering.
Kendrick won’t, either.”
“Right.”
“Okay, don’t believe me, Junior. But the way I see it, you don’t have anything to
lose trusting me, trusting Kendrick. Either do it, or don’t. Quit being such an indecisive
girl.” She rubbed her eyes and sighed. “Is she home? Kendrick? I gotta get her help
with something.”
“Yeah, I think so.” I grabbed the pink notebook and Stewart headed out the door in
front of me.
The second Kendrick let us in, Stewart said, “Sleep … I need to sleep. Give me whatever
you got.”
Kendrick glanced over Stewart’s shoulder at me as if asking for my approval. I just
shrugged, not really seeing a problem with this plan. Stewart did need to rest if
she’d been up all night. Kendrick provided her with some little white pills and a
bed much more comfortable than mine.