The Boys Are Back in Town (36 page)

It wasn't over. Not yet.

A week ago . . . and eleven years from now:
Will had sat, and would sit, at the Homecoming football game during the weekend-long celebration of his ten-year high school reunion. It was in the distant future, and yet it was the beginning of all of this. Poor, doomed Kyle Brody would approach him with a note. Two words. Two fucking words that had haunted him every waking moment since he had read them.

Don't forget.

But there was just too damned much to remember, too many conflicting images and emotions, and so much of it was slipping through his mind like sand through his fingers.

Will took a sip of his coffee, barely registering how bitter and stale it was. He dragged a hand across his face, stubble against his palm, and took a deep breath, trying to shake it off, to focus his mind. He stood on the grass beside the bleachers on the Cougars' side of the field, near the place where during night games kids would sneak under the bleachers to drink and get high or spend a little private groping time. Not so much of that kind of thing during the day, but it still happened. Will ignored them, just as he ignored the blaring, off-key clatter of the Cougar band in the front row of the bleachers, the whistle of the referees, the clack of helmet against helmet, even the numbers on the scoreboard.

From time to time his gaze would drift to a spot diagonally across the field, where Brian stood vigilant on the visitors' side. But for the most part, Will's focus was on the girls. On the cheerleaders.

On Bonnie Winter.

Her smile was broad and genuine as she belted out the call-and-response cheer of the moment, her auburn hair flying in her face. Will tried not to think of her pale corpse lying in the autumn leaves, ants crawling on her flesh, but that was one image he could not seem to banish.

Bonnie wasn't alone out there. Will couldn't remember the last names of a couple of the girls, but most of them he knew very well. Or had known, once upon a time. Bonnie. Lolly. Pix. Kelly. And Caitlyn, of course.

God, she was beautiful,
he thought as he watched her miss a cue, then twirl into a circle with the other girls, trying to catch up. She laughed, her cheeks flushed from the cold air and the exertion of the cheer routine. The skirt was short and her legs so slender and toned. Her blue eyes sparkled, and her golden hair seemed to glow in the sunshine.

Will knew he still loved her, but just as certainly he knew he loved what she had been to him then, not what she became. This, what they had had in these last days of another age, had been everything he'd hoped for. But it had faded along with everything else from this time in his life. Being with Caitlyn then was part of what made him the person he had become, but it had taken him a long time to realize that his relationship was a relic, an artifact of the past.

Now, looking at her, a hard truth struck him. Caitlyn had never loved him the way he had loved her. This was not self-pity, but simple fact. And he was surprised at how OK he was with that.

It was a long time ago,
he thought. Even seeing her right in front of him, breathing the same air he had breathed on those perfect days, he had the perspective of that distance in a way he had never had before.

The coffee cup was still warm in his hands, but the way the sun was moving across the sky he was no longer in the shadow of the bleachers, so some of the chill of that October day was burning off. His back had even begun to feel pleasantly warm. On the field, Tim Friel faded back for a pass, but the Eastborough High line completely fell apart. The Natick defensemen rushed Tim; the way he glanced around, it was obvious he knew he wasn't going to get the pass off. The quarterback ran right. Joe Rosenthal blocked for him and Tim danced out of the way of another defensive back who slipped through, but then he was out on his own, sprinting full tilt down the field. Natick uniforms were closing in on him, in hot pursuit, but Tim had taken them by surprise, and he was fast. Very fast.

The bleachers exploded with cheers. Will found himself shouting and whistling along with everyone else, his coffee cup the only thing keeping him from applauding. He only allowed himself a moment's distraction before returning to the grim purpose that kept him stationed there at the edge of the field. His gaze drifted over the cheerleaders but this time he did not linger on Bonnie or Caitlyn. Instead he studied the crowd on the opposite side, then turned to gaze up into the bleachers over his right shoulder. He searched the crowd for anything out of the ordinary. People were jumping up and down, waving their arms in triumph, and hugging each other. The Cougars had taken the lead, and the students, parents, teachers, and graduates of Eastborough High were celebrating.

All but one.

At the front of the bleachers, Danny Plumer leaned against the railing, surrounded by people in motion. Danny was quite still. He did not cheer or whistle or applaud. Instead his focus remained on a fixed point on the field, a kind of distant, forlorn look on his face.

It sent a jolt through Will, seeing Danny like that. Could he have been that wrong? First Nick, and now Danny as well? His bud? How could he have spent as much time with these guys as he had, believed them to be his friends, and not seen what they really were?

A deep melancholy enveloped Will as he stared at Danny. The crowd settled back down as the Cougars kicked off to Natick and the game got under way again, but Danny only stood there watching the cheerleaders.

The cheerleaders.

Relief flooded through Will as he glanced over at the girls as they shook their pompoms through another routine. Danny was just watching the cheerleaders. Who could blame him? Will glanced out at the field, where Caitlyn dropped her pompoms and took a running start, then vaulted into a handspring and landed on her feet again, just in time to punctuate a loud shout of “Cougars!” from the whole cheer squad. Out in front, Dori Schnell planted her hands on her hips and led off the next cheer, voice carrying. She swung her arms in tight choreography but never participated in any of the groundwork. No splits, no somersaults, no acrobatics at all. Her left leg had never healed right after her accident.

As he watched her, Will felt sadness and guilt envelop him. A long time ago he had used magic to make himself forget. Magic had frightened him, and with good reason. But he had been even more significantly motivated by his guilt, by not wanting to have to feel the weight upon his heart every time he saw Dori, and the little limp in her step. Only now did he realize what a coward he had been. He had earned his guilt. And now he knew that in a way he needed to feel every bit of the sorrow it brought.

Still, she was a part of the cheer squad. The girls all wore bright smiles and their routine had an infectious exuberance. Will enjoyed the show. Sure, watching beautiful girls in motion had its own rewards, but it was more than that. Much as he and the guys often joked about appreciating the talent involved, there was more than a little truth behind the humor.

Reluctantly, Will tore his gaze from the cheerleaders and once more looked up at Danny, whose expression had not changed.

Will frowned, eyes narrowing. Quickly he glanced back and forth between Danny and the cheer squad. Lolly did a handspring that took her all the way to the far end of the lineup, but Danny's gaze did not follow her. His attention was straight ahead, at the girl on the squad's other flank.

Bonnie.

The coffee cup dropped from Will's hands and he was in motion before it hit the grass. He went up the metal side stairs that led to the walkway at the bottom of the bleachers, plunging into the constant flow of people coming down to use the bathroom or visit the concession stand, or headed back up to their seats. A fortyish guy with a tray of hot dogs and sodas bumped him, sloshing ice and Coke onto the dogs and onto Will, who apologized and pushed past the man, ignoring the cursing that followed him.

He had wondered why Danny had not come up to sit with them. Now he feared that he knew.

There were too many people on the walkway for him to move fast. He darted his head from side to side, trying to get a look at Danny, but in the thick of the throng, all he caught was a glimpse of dark hair, the vague impression of someone leaning against the railing.

On the field, Natick High fumbled.

Once more, the crowd erupted.

Frustrated, heart racing, doubt and regret and disappointment rushing through him, Will lost his patience and began to shoulder people aside, muttering empty apologies. A hand grabbed his arm and he shook it off. All around him were broad smiles, victoriously upraised fists, applauding hands, and he maneuvered amongst them with a dreadful urgency.

Will blinked in confusion and stopped short. He was sure he had passed the place where he had seen Danny leaning against the railing. Under his breath he swore, then he pushed through a couple of students to get to the metal rail, leaning out over the ground below to get a good look in both directions.

Danny was gone.

Will felt as though all his strength had left him. He let the railing take his weight, head hung. Someone muttered nasty words about his rudeness but he ignored them; they were right.

His heart felt as though it had turned to stone. He had done the spell to take him back in time to heal the wounds someone had torn in his life. Now he began to wonder if, even if his journey was a success, he might have simply traded those wounds for others, injuries not only to his heart but to his faith in everything.

Son of a bitch,
he thought.
What's your story, Danny?

Will didn't have an answer yet. But the Homecoming Dance was only hours away and he promised himself that tonight, no matter the cost, he would learn the truth.

W
ILL TOOK
C
AITLYN
to the Homecoming Dance in his father's 4Runner, but the drive over to the school was solemn. By default, his girlfriend had been made Homecoming Queen that day, riding on the float with Tim Friel. Caitlyn hadn't liked that at all. It would have been one thing if Tess had just dropped out or gotten sick, but knowing what had happened, Caitlyn simply did not feel right about it. She had asked Principal Chadbourne to tell the Homecoming Committee to skip the King and Queen's dance.

Showing more sensitivity than Will would have credited him with, Chadbourne had agreed.

Both Caitlyn and Tim felt the entire event should have been canceled, but the principal had explained that the gymnasium was already decorated, the snacks and drinks had already been ordered, most of the student body had no idea what had happened the previous night, and in any case, there was simply no time. People would have shown up to find the doors locked and a sign on the door, all dressed up with nowhere to go. Certainly, Tess O'Brien would not want the dance to be canceled.

He was right about that, but Will doubted the principal had bothered to find out for himself. It was simply easier for him to have the dance than to explain its cancellation. Word would get around. It was already spreading. Will was sure the guy was going to catch hell from parents the following week, but Principal Chadbourne did not want to be the one to cancel the event. And maybe he was right. With the terrible things that had happened in the last week, it might be just what the junior and senior students needed.

For his part, Will was glad the dance was still going to happen. If the shit was still going to hit the fan, his future self insisted it was going to be tonight. Will didn't bother reminding him that he and Future Brian were changing things, that the time line might not unfold the way they remembered it. It didn't matter, because it wasn't just their memories. It was something in the ether, some ominous weight in the air.

Magic. He fucking hated it. Magic corrupted everything it touched. He was certain of that. And yet any misgivings Will had had about the interference of his future self in his life were gone. Before all of this, his worldview had been entirely too simple. Yes, he and Brian had made a hobby out of something dark and dangerous, but Will had managed to convince himself it was nothing, that most of it had been his imagination.

There would be no more denial.

If Future Will and Future Brian hadn't used magic to return to this time in their lives, Nick would have gotten away with all of it. Will didn't like to think about what would have happened to Ashleigh—what
had
happened to Tess—or to wonder how many other girls would have suffered the same fate.

But it wasn't over yet.

He and Caitlyn had driven to the school in near-total silence, their hands clasped over the console between the front seats. Now he unlaced his fingers from hers and put both hands on the wheel, slowing the 4Runner as he rolled through the parking lot in search of a space. There were dozens of people still outside, talking in groups or walking toward the entrance to the gym. Yet just looking at them Will could sense their reserve, the hesitation that had touched them all. Word was spreading, all right.

“Pretty brightly dressed for a funeral,” Caitlyn said softly.

Regret surged through Will as he pulled the 4Runner in between a dented Sentra and the Dumpster. He put it in park and glanced over at her. Caitlyn wore an eggshell blue dress with thin spaghetti straps, and her hair was done in ringlet curls that framed her face beautifully. She looked to him like one of the delicate ceramic Lladro figurines his mother collected.

He reached out to touch her face, locking eyes with her. “We've already had the funeral,” he said softly. “Okay, so it won't be the same. Mike should be here. What happened with Tess . . . what Nick did . . . I'm not going to tell you I'm not fucked up about it. But you've got that dress on, and my God, you look beautiful. And our friends are waiting inside. There's music, there's dancing, and I know you don't want all of that to go to waste.”

One corner of her mouth lifted in the sexy, lopsided grin that had made him fall in love with her in the first place. Caitlyn leaned in and kissed him, her lips brushing gently against his. She rested her forehead against his and Will slipped one hand behind her neck. For a long moment they remained that way, until at last she withdrew.