Tempest (16 page)

The first thing I noticed when I woke up the next morning was the lump next to me, sound asleep. I rolled over and stood, happy that feeling had returned to my legs. But they were weak and my head throbbed, like a bad hangover.

Adam’s eyes opened slowly. “You’re standing.”

“Barely.” I clutched my sides, putting pressure against the stabbing pain running up and down my ribs.

Adam pulled a shirt over his head and opened the bedroom door. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

Food was the last thing on my mind, but my lack of appetite in the last week had already caused me to lose at least five pounds. Pretty soon I really
would
disappear.

“Morning, Mom,” Adam said to the woman in the kitchen flipping pancakes.

“You’re up early. I didn’t know you had a friend over.” Mrs. Silverman turned her back on the griddle and smiled at me.

I tried not to laugh, because Adam’s parents were a big joke for me in 2009. I named them “Paul and Judy” because they made me think of the Dick and Jane books I read in preschool. The ones from the 1950s. They were completely clueless about what their son was up to or capable of. It was all pancakes and sunshine.

“I’m Jackson,” I said.

Adam and I sat at the table and he slid my journal in front of me. “Write down what you remember.”

“What was the time on my stopwatch?” I asked.

“A little over two hours.”

“And
your
stopwatch?”

“Four minutes,” he answered.

Even though I’d done this so many times with the older Adam, it was still weird to be gone that long and then come back and find only minutes had passed. But usually it was seconds.

“What did I look like?”

“Just like the other times you recorded with m … with the other guy. You were staring into space, completely unresponsive.” He tapped the page again with his finger. “Write.”

The memory was choppy and jumbled, but once I started forming a list and Adam drilled me with questions, most of it seemed to come back.

“Wow, it sounds like you picked the right date. So, now we know, he’s definitely an agent of some kind,” Adam said.

Mrs. Silverman slid a giant plate of pancakes in front of each of us. “Who’s an agent, honey?”

Adam shrugged. “It’s just this TV show.”

She smiled at him. “Orange juice, anyone?”

“Sure,” Adam said.

“No, thanks,” I said.

“Okay, so, you resemble these mysterious other people … or was he talking about you looking like your younger self? No surprise if that’s the case.”

“He just said, ‘You see the resemblance?’ Then he said something about looking like the others … or maybe he said ‘other’ … like the other me,” I said.

Feeling nauseous from my wild adventure last night, I pushed the plate away from me, but Adam slid it back. “Eat.”

I could only force down a few bites before running to the bathroom and puking it back up. While I was brushing my teeth, I heard Adam talking to his mom. “Probably bad sushi.”

“I’ve got Maalox,” I heard Adam’s mom call through the bathroom door.

Adam was waiting for me outside the bathroom, holding a bottle of Maalox, when I came out. I chugged it straight from the bottle as we walked back to his room, where I promptly fell onto his bed. He shut the door behind him, balancing his plate of pancakes. “It’s the time travel that’s making you sick. Based on your journal notes and your latest binge and purge, it’s obvious.”

“Are you sure it’s not psychosomatic? Guilt manifesting itself into illness? It never happened until Holly was shot.” I pulled the covers up to my neck, rolling myself into a shivering ball.

“Someone’s taken Psych 101.” Adam sat in his desk chair and continued stuffing his face. “I think it’s all relative. Before you went back to 2007, the furthest you’d gone was a couple of days. It’s a formula based on the number of years you travel backwards, along with the length of time you stay in the past. You knew that part already because the formulas were in your journal.”

I nodded. “But why don’t I feel constantly sick in this year? Technically, it’s the past for me.”

He shrugged. “I think it’s because this is your home base now. Every other year is the one you
shouldn’t
be in, so bad things are going to happen to you when you travel to those non-home-base time periods. And the longer you stay away from home base, the worse the symptoms are. It’s like your body’s actually being pulled apart and maybe you can only stretch so far.”

“I guess it makes sense. I just don’t get
why
.”

“I think we can safely say there’s a ton of shit we haven’t figured out yet.”

“Agreed. But … I really need to call my dad. I can just ask him if he’s a government agent. Tell him I overheard a conversation or something. It’s not like he’s the bad guy, right?”

Adam lifted an eyebrow. “You positive about that? So he rushed you to the hospital when you broke your arm. Big deal. And even if he
is
good … what if it doesn’t matter and he
has
to turn on you the second he knows you’re not in the dark anymore? Since the jumping around in time is kicking you in the ass, I think you have to limit your jumps to very important tasks. You need to recover, man. For now, I think you should just play dumb around your dad. It’ll be easier to get information. From what it sounds like, those guys in the underground hospital wing were not too happy to see you, and they knew your dad … like they’re on the same side.” He stopped for a minute and I could tell his mind was racing.

I sat up and leaned against the wooden headboard. “Damn. I feel like shit and I was gonna try and get Holly to go out with me today. She gave me her number last night.”

Adam turned his back to me and fumbled with a stack of papers on his desk. “She’s busy.”

“She is?”

“I told her I’d help her study for her calc test.”

“Great, then I have an excuse to see her. I can tag along on your little study session. Tell her we were hanging out.”

He grabbed a pair of jeans from his closet and pulled them on, still not looking at me. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. She’s really freaked about this test—”

“Adam, what are you not telling me? Did she say something to you?”

He finally looked at me, then sighed. “I wasn’t going to bring this up today, but obviously I don’t have a choice. After reading all your notes, it seems like … you and Holly were just having fun. Nothing serious.”

“Do you mean 007 Holly or the other one?”

“007 Holly?”

“Yeah, it sounds much cooler than 2007 Holly.”

He shook his head and laughed. “Interesting way to decipher. But I meant the other one. From 2009. Anyway … other than guilt about leaving her to die … is anything really different now than it was in the future?”

I just stared at him, not sure how to answer, feeling my face redden with unintended anger.

“Look, Jackson, I don’t have anything against you. You’ve dealt with a lot of crazy, fucked-up shit, and the fact that you want to keep her alive, make sure she’s safe, proves you’re a decent guy. But don’t you think it’s a little risky to be close to her … for several reasons? Holly’s my friend and I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“Do you think I’m trying to get close to her out of guilt?” I asked, because I really wasn’t sure. These were uncharted waters for me. In fact, relationships of
any
kind were uncharted.

“It kinda seems that way … but maybe I’m wrong. Either way, you need to stop feeling guilty.”

Adam turned on his computer and I rolled over on my stomach, staring at the pattern on the sheets, absorbing his insightful message.
Was
pursuing Holly just about guilt or maybe even the thrill of chasing her again?

Then again, I could have walked away in 2009 that last night we were together. I’d been an hour late for dinner and then told her I needed to skip the movie because I had plans with Adam.

She had gotten up from her chair, picked up her purse, and said calmly, “Well, I have other things I could be doing, too, so I’ll just go and do that now.”

I knew she was pissed, even though she didn’t start shouting at me until I chased after her. But I did chase after her. That had to mean something. I’d never dated girls from my high school or anyone who knew much about my personal life. Or people who knew my sister before she died. College was easier. Somehow I ended up telling Holly nearly everything about myself … but for once, I was the only source. She wasn’t picking up the gossip and rumors that had flown around my school.

What made it so easy to talk to Holly was that I could tell her half of what I meant and she’d fill in the rest. She knew what I was thinking. Like the first time I kissed her …

It had been my nineteenth birthday. June 20, 2009. My dad was ignoring it, just like he’d done every year since Courtney died. Holly had just broken up with David and reluctantly agreed to go out to a club with the rest of the camp staff. Of course, I was thrilled about the opportunity to get her alone, but I could tell she was miserable and trying to give the appearance of enjoying herself.

Just like that, I ditched my original plan to lure her onto the dance floor.

“You want to get out of here?” I asked her.

She nodded. “Are you hungry?”

“Famished.”

“Me, too.” Her fingers landed inside my palm and I gripped them, leading her out into the warm summer air.

I dropped her hand before we started down the sidewalk. “You don’t eat pizza, do you?”

She shook her head. “No, dairy allergy.”

“I know this amazing deli across town. Lots of nondairy items,” I suggested.

“Sounds good.”

We hopped in a cab and headed far away from the club. The deli was almost empty and we took our time selecting one of nearly every vegetarian item on the menu, then spread out our feast across the largest table.

“How long ago did you give up meat?”

She dipped a hunk of pita bread in hummus before answering. “Just a few years. I’d eat meat if I liked the taste, but I don’t.”

“So it’s not because you want to save a cow?”

“Not exactly.” She smiled and took a drink from her iced tea. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go for it.”

“Was this your plan all along? To get me alone tonight? I’ve heard you … do this a lot.”

My tongue was tied for a minute. The usual retort wasn’t right. I folded my hands over the table and stared right at her. Her jaw froze mid-chew. “Honestly, I watched you dancing with Brook,” I said, “and I knew you felt guilty about enjoying yourself tonight. We have that in common.”

This was the truth. I just wanted to be around her, but I didn’t know exactly why. Which kinda scared me a little.

She dropped her eyes and pushed her fork around a container of fruit. She knew exactly what I was talking about. “Yeah, we do.”

“Okay, so, here’s what we’ll do to alleviate the guilt.” I sat up straighter and watched her eyes lift. “Only regular, everyday things are allowed tonight. Like eating, drinking, sleeping.”

Her mouth pulled into a half smile. “Sounds good. Only the mundane stuff permitted.”

“And talking?” I suggested.

“Mr. Meyer, how are you this evening?” a voice said behind me.

I spun around in my chair and saw my father walking up to the counter. “Dad, what’re you doing here?”

Dad looked over and nodded. “I’m working late. Just grabbing some dinner to take back to the office.”

“Doesn’t your secretary usually do that?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I sent her home.”

He wanted to be alone for the same reason I didn’t. I jumped up from my chair and glanced at Holly, then back at my dad. “This is Holly Flynn. We work together.”

Dad stuck out his hand to shake hers. “Kevin Meyer.”

“Nice to meet you,” Holly said.

Dad grabbed the bag from the man at the counter and turned back to us. “Are you in school in New York?” he asked.

“I’ll be at NYU in September.”

“She’s a freshman,” I told Dad.

He nodded before turning toward the door. “You’ll have a sophomore to show you around, then. Jackson’s good at that.”

I decided to give it one last effort. “I’ll probably be home really late, if that’s okay…?”

Dad didn’t even look over his shoulder. “No problem.”

I sucked in a deep breath and ran my fingers through my hair.

“That was awkward,” Holly said.

I snapped my head around to look at her. “He works in the building across the street. He’s actually the one who told me about this place.”

“That’s not what I meant. I’m talking about … um…”

I dropped my eyes. “Right.”

She must have caught on to my need to change the subject. “So, what are we going to talk about?”

“What happened with Daniel or Donny? Whatever his name is.”

She hid a smile. “David, but you already know that. And isn’t it bad form to talk about exes while on a date?”

“Well, it’s not a date, so you won’t be breaking any rules,” I said.

This was not normally something I would ask for specifics about, but Holly was too hard to figure out without knowing what kind of guy she could spend a year dating. I couldn’t even imagine being with someone for that long at our age. A month was my longest relationship and the girl had been out of the country for two of those weeks.

“Nothing exciting. Typical outgrowing-the-high-school-boyfriend story.”

“Is he … okay with it?”

She smiled a little. “Yeah, but David’s a nice guy. I don’t know if he’s just saying that so I won’t feel bad.”

We changed subjects and chattered on for at least another hour before heading out. I kept the conversation casual and hoped she’d believe me about not having any “big plans” for our evening.

“What now?” I asked.

“I guess maybe I should go home.”

No, no, no.
“Can we go for a walk first? Daily exercise is certainly allowed. Nothing fun about that.”

“Sure,” she said.

The tension that had dissolved during dinner had started building again. Holly obviously felt it, too, and maybe she wanted something to happen, or else just the opposite—to close the door on that idea as soon as possible.