Tempest. Part 19

ME: Steak, I really love a juicy New York strip with that crispy fat around the edges.

HOLLY: Lol! And yuck! But that's not what I meant. What's your favorite load of c.r.a.p to feed people?

ME: You have such a delicate way of putting things, but I'd have to say quoting Shakespearean sonnets in French to impress a girl. I'll need therapy to give that one up. It works really well.

HOLLY: Hmm ... I'd love to say that wouldn't impress me, but I think it might. Of course you've ruined the surprise now.

ME: Of course.

HOLLY: Adam just got here. Time to cram for my calc test. Later.

There. That was the beginning of honesty and a little bit of me exposed. It wasn't so bad. Yet. I fell asleep on the couch, writing as many 009 Holly moments as I could possibly remember. Just in case I forgot. There were so many I never bothered to write down. I always thought there'd be time for that.

When I woke, it was dark and I had slept for most of the day. I spent nearly an hour keeping busy with random tasks, trying to decide if it was a bad idea to call or email Holly again. Just when I was ready to cave and send her a quick note, I saw that she had already sent me an email. Maybe seventeen-year-old Holly was a little less patient?

HOLLY: I know I'm such a dork writing you yet another email after only six hours, but I was just going to ask you if you had any good tips for SAT studying?

I sent her an instant message instead of an email reply.

ME: Yes, a ton. But what do I get out of it?

HOLLY: What do you want?

ME: Can I call you right now?

HOLLY: Why don't you try and see if I answer?

I should have known she'd say that. I crawled into bed and flipped off the light before dialing her number.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey."

"So..."

"So ... tell me something interesting about the world of school. I feel like I haven't been there forever." Again, another true statement. So far, I was on a roll.

"Well ... I have this new project for AP English and it's actually really cool. We have to keep a journal of song lyrics that represent our mood throughout the day, for a whole week."

"What's your song right now?"

"'Vacation' by the Go-Go's. Do you know it?" she asked.

I sang the first line. "Can't seem to get my mind off of you."

"Is that cheesy?"

"No, I love it."

"Tell me yours."

The tone of her voice relaxed and I closed my eyes, imagining her snuggled under her white comforter, head pressed against the light blue ruffled pillow.

"Hmm ... 'All Mixed Up.'"

"Never heard it," she said.

"It's by a band called 311."

"You know a lot about music, don't you?"

"Yeah, I'm a music geek."

"I have weird favorites. Stuff I'm embarra.s.sed to say I like sometimes," she said.

"Like what?"

"There's this one Billy Joel song called 'Don't Ask Me Why.'"

I sang the first line of the song into the phone.

"I can't believe you know that song."

"I can play it on guitar."

"No way!"

"Seriously, I can. I'll show you sometime."

"Cool."

Okay, so I cheated a little with the song thing, but I couldn't help it if I knew her favorite song and if I had already learned to play it on the guitar to impress 009 Holly.

I went to sleep that night feeling more like myself than I had in a long time. I'd let Adam wrap his much more capable brain around the new information acquired and do as he said, play along with my dad. For now, I was stuck in this strange purgatory, waiting for something or someone to tell me what to do next.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 7, 2007.

I know I'm not supposed to time-travel for a while. Considering the fact that I felt like death for several days after the last time jump, Adam's orders needed to be followed. But this morning I woke up thinking about Courtney ... things I wished I could fix ... like seventh grade. Since we were not only siblings but also cla.s.smates, I knew everything that was going on with my sister. A lot of stuff I didn't want to know.

Like her nervous stomach issues ... anytime we had a test or band audition she'd get terrible gas and diarrhea. I'd see her running off to the bathroom and know exactly why. I really didn't think much of it and never brought it up until one day my best friend, who had an obvious and unrequited crush on Courtney, watched her race out of the gym right before her presentation for the Science Fair. He asked me if she was sick and without even thinking about it, I blurted out, "She's fine. She just doesn't like to fart in front of people."

As soon as my friend snickered, I knew exactly what I had done and there was a second where I could have said it was a lie. Or taken it back. But I didn't. I just laughed with him and for several weeks after the Science Fair, Courtney had to deal with the nickname "Hershey Squirts." It was horrible.

It's hard to believe after everything that's happened to her and to me, a stupid fart joke in middle school is causing me to feel like the world's biggest a.s.shole. The worst part is, I never told her it was me who unintentionally started that rumor. We never talked about it. Almost like she knew I wasn't bold enough to stand up to my friends for my sister. Like she understood. But she shouldn't have and I shouldn't have been such a coward.

I tried to put the key in the lock on the gym door, but everything was spinning so much that I couldn't get it to match up. After a few weeks of rest in my new home-base year, I'd broken Adam's rules and spent a full four hours in the year 2003 with my sister. Now I was paying the price. I had only planned to stay a few minutes, but then I just couldn't leave. Adam had also prescribed daily workouts to build myself up a little in case it helped with the time-travel side effects. I'd probably reversed the three weeks of running and weight-lifting in my four-hour excursion. At least that's what it felt like.

The door appeared to open on its own and I stumbled through it, hearing a familiar voice.

"Jackson, what's up, man?" Toby said.

"Are you okay? You look really ... pale." Holly's voice, like it was coming from a distance.

Both of their faces spun in front of me and then I just closed my eyes and fell into nothing.

"You got any other shoes to wear home?" I heard Toby say.

"No, but I can drive barefoot," Holly said.

I started to peel my eyes open and saw the gray lockers in the staff lounge and realized I was lying on the couch.

"Look who's awake. Are you hungover, man?" Toby asked.

"He doesn't smell hungover. I'm sure it's that flu going around. I had it a couple weeks ago and barfed, like, every fifteen minutes for six hours straight."

"Since you're conscious now, I'm gonna take off."

"See you later, Toby," Holly said.

I felt a wet washcloth on my forehead. "What year is it?"

Holly laughed and sat down beside me on the couch. "Do you mean what time is it?"

"Yeah, that, too."

"It's five."

I tried to sit up, but she pushed me back down. "Don't get up. You'll just fall over again and I'm not nearly as strong as Toby."

"I've got to get my work done."

"We took care of it."

"Seriously? You guys didn't have to do that."

"You should have called in sick," she said.

No, I should have saved the time travel for my day off. "Yeah, I guess. How did I get back here?"

Holly smiled and shifted the washcloth on my forehead. "Well, you fell over on Toby, who caught you before your head hit the floor. Then, when he stood you up, you barfed all over my shoes."

I covered my face and groaned. "Sorry."

"It's no big deal. Like I said, I had the same thing. All these kids in the gym wiping their snotty viruses everywhere, you're bound to pick one up."

"I'm just glad you were here. Otherwise I'd be pa.s.sed out in front of the door. Probably with a big b.u.mp on my head."

She laughed and brushed her fingers over my right forearm. Just that small touch from her made me crazy. Three weeks of email exchanges, mostly about nothing-jokes or stories about the crazy "gym moms" Holly had to deal with, but not one time had I seen her outside of work. I didn't exactly plan it that way, but Adam's words stuck in my head and I was afraid of being alone with her-starting something that was more than just friendly coworker stuff. Besides, 007 Holly was only seventeen. In 2009, I never, ever would have considered hooking up with a seventeen-year-old.

Her fingers moved over my scar. "What happened?"

"I fell out of a tree when I was six." I reached out to touch her, just under her chin. "How did you get that scar?"

"Parachuting off the kitchen counter. Eight st.i.tches." She grabbed my fingers and held on to them. "Your hands are freezing."

Her stare was so intense. I knew that look and as much as I wanted her to look at me that way, I wasn't sure she should. "You're probably ready to go home."

"Yeah, my last party left an hour ago. But what about you? Will you be okay?" she asked.

"I'll call Adam. He'll give me a ride."

"I could take you home. Where do you live?"

Nowhere close.

"That's okay. Adam and I had plans anyway." I pulled out my phone to call him.

Holly gathered up her things and sat next to me again. Then she did something that completely shocked me. She pulled the washcloth from my head and leaned forward, just barely brushing her lips over my forehead.

"You don't have a fever. That's a good sign."

I didn't know if it was just a friendly gesture, but I didn't care. My arms went around her. I moved my hand over her hair and held her so tight.

Her head turned and I felt her breath on my neck, then she laughed lightly and said, "What are you doing?"

I dropped my arms and leaned back. "Just saying thank you. That's all. My family likes to hug."

She stood and smiled. "You're welcome. And I hope you feel better."

Holly stumbled a little on her way out the door, like she was dizzy or off balance. Adam showed up a few minutes later with a sports drink in hand. "I can't believe you did it without me!"

I took the drink from him and opened it. "Sorry. It's been a few weeks and I had a moment of weakness. Obviously I'm paying the price now."

He waved a hand in front of me. "Forget it. I've got a really awesome plan. Well, it's more of an opportunity to pursue the medical records task. And if that doesn't work out ... maybe just get info from the person who's been recording all the notes in your records."

"Does it involve a time jump? Because I'm pretty much spent."