I'll Stop the World, page 22
He let out another peal of high-pitched laughter. Rose looked around, alarmed. What would any of her neighbors think if they looked out their windows to see her consoling some sort of hysterical boy on the sidewalk? Or worse, what would Diane think? “Justin,” she whispered, shaking his arm slightly. “Justin.”
“What?”
“Get a grip.”
“That’s what she said.” Justin dissolved into another fit of giggles.
Rose looped her arm through his and half coaxed, half dragged him down the sidewalk until finally he stopped howling with laughter and straightened up to walk like a normal person. Rose kept her arm linked through his, just in case.
“What’s going on?” she hissed at him under her breath. She was starting to get worried.
“It’s just . . . I met Veronica and Bill today,” he said, a touch of awe in his voice. “And Millie. The baby. They call her Millie.”
“Yeah,” Rose said softly. “I know.”
“And you know how, what we’re doing, it was all kind of theoretical before? ‘Maybe I’m here for this reason, and here’s how we test it.’ Like a scientific experiment, right?”
She nodded.
“But it’s not an experiment, because if I know something bad is coming and don’t stop it, it’s kind of my fault. Not stopping it is, in a way, like making it happen.”
“I don’t think I’d go that fa—”
“If I don’t save them, they’re going to die. And that baby is going to lose her parents.” His voice cracked as he ran his hands through his hair, causing it to stick out in all directions. “She’s going to grow up to have no one and nothing, except me, and I’m going to leave her when I’m fucking eighteen, which will be my fault, because I couldn’t save her parents. Do you have any idea how messed up that is?”
He laughed again, but less wildly this time, his head dropping back to look up at the gray sky. She was worried he might tumble into fits of hysteria again, but instead his laughter trailed into silence. “What if we can’t do it?”
She shrugged. “We have to.”
“Just because we want something doesn’t mean we can make it happen. Trust me, if that were a thing, I’d know.” He cut his eyes toward her, then down to the ground, running a hand through his hair.
“But this isn’t like winning the lottery or wishing someone would like you. Something in the universe rearranged the very fabric of its being in order for you to be right here, right now. It has to work, because the entire cosmos tied itself into a knot to make it happen.”
“Or maybe it just tripped and fell, and I am just like . . . a cosmic penny that accidentally rolled into the sewer.”
“Well, if that’s the case, then nothing we do matters anyway, so we may as well act as if it does matter, right?” She barely understood what she’d just said, but he seemed to follow along.
“Okay, fine,” he agreed, “but we could still get it wrong. If, by your logic, the cosmos is really invested in making sure this goes right, then that has to mean there’s some chance of getting it wrong. Otherwise the stakes would be nonexistent, in which case, why put in all that effort?”
“I’m not trying to talk hypothetical logic problems here,” she said, coming to a stop and turning to face him with her hands on her hips. “It has to work, because . . . it has to. Okay?”
She couldn’t figure out how to put it into better words, but she knew at her core that the answer was vital to who she was, what she believed. After all, if there was no greater meaning to someone traveling through time, then how was she supposed to believe that there was any sort of meaning to the rest of it? To her mom, to Lisa’s dad, to Mrs. Hanley’s fire. To herself.
Maybe this was what that feeling had been, the night she first met Justin on the bridge. Maybe what she’d thought was certainty was really just a deep longing to matter.
“I’m not talking hypotheticals either,” he said, looking at her with a gaze like icy flames. “I just realized a few minutes ago that in a couple days, I’m either going to succeed or I’m going to murder two people. There’s no other option.” He hung his head. “And I still have no idea how to succeed.”
Moving almost by instinct, she reached out and grabbed his hand. “We’re going to figure it out,” she said. “I promise.”
He didn’t pull away, but instead tightened his fingers around hers. They were thin and lightly calloused in her hand, his skin warm. She resisted the urge to trace her thumb over his knuckles, debating whether it was less awkward to drop his hand or keep holding it. Unbidden, her brain replayed his words from a few minutes ago, when she said no one was interested in being her boyfriend.
I highly doubt that’s true.
“I haven’t made any progress either,” he said, not meeting her eyes. It took her a second to remember what they were talking about: their investigation, right.
Not where her brain was, still dwelling on her hypothetical boyfriends.
“I couldn’t find Stan,” Justin said. “I couldn’t find any clues at the bridge. Mrs. Hanley doesn’t know anything.” He shrugged, his hand slipping out of hers in the process. The motion was almost casual enough for her to convince herself that maybe he hadn’t even noticed the hand-holding, which must have felt electric only to her. “Oh, but I did accidentally take some kid’s bike?”
“You did what?”
“It’s a long story,” he said. “I don’t know his last name, but his first name’s Karl, he’s in seventh grade, he has an older sister—oh, I think she knows you—”
“I know who it is.” Rose sighed. How on earth had Justin ended up with Karl Derrin’s bike?
“Great, then you can help me get it back to him. I mean, what else am I doing with a kid-size bike?”
“I’m sure you could get creative.”
He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “How creative do you mean?”
She nudged him playfully, her cheeks growing hot. “I was thinking like a science experiment, you pervert.”
“I’m the pervert? You’re the one talking about all the dirty bike stuff.”
She laughed, dropping her head so that her hair covered her rapidly warming cheeks. She knew if she looked in a mirror, they’d be glowing red. When she glanced up at him, he was grinning at her, his smile stretching across his typically dour face like the sun breaking through the clouds.
Something did a little flip in her stomach, but she ignored it. If everything went right, he’d be here only a few more days. And then she’d never see him again.
She cleared her throat, forcing her mind to stay focused. “I’ll ask Noah to return it. He’s got a bike rack on his mom’s car already. I can ask him whenever he gets home.”
“Great. So I’ll see you back at Mrs. Hanley’s?”
Rose nodded. “Now you’d better leave before Diane chases you off with a broom.”
“She didn’t strike me as the chase-you-with-a-broom type.”
“She’s the do-what-I-say-or-else type.”
“I’ve always kind of liked that type,” he said with a wink. “Come to think of it, you kind of resemble that type . . .”
“Go,” she laughed, shoving his arm.
He gave her a salute, then obediently turned and ambled down the sidewalk, back toward Mrs. Hanley’s house. “Never mind, nothing bossy about you at all,” he called over his shoulder, tossing her one last grin.
She smiled as she watched him go, pretending there wasn’t a part of her that wished he could stay.
Chapter Forty-Two
LISA
“Now isn’t a good time,” Mrs. Derrin said coolly when she answered the door. “You should have called first.”
“I’m sorry,” Lisa said. Charlene’s mother had opened the door only a crack, and was filling the space with her body, barring Lisa’s view inside. “But since I’m here, can I just talk to Charlene for a minute? I won’t take up much of her time, I promise.”
Mrs. Derrin sighed, her long artificial eyelashes fluttering theatrically as she rolled her eyes. “All right. Wait here.” She shut the door in Lisa’s face, leaving her standing on the wraparound porch.
Lisa took a deep breath, trying to calm the frustration that surged inside her every time she had to interact with Charlene’s parents. They had never been the biggest fans of Charlene and Lisa’s friendship, and their frostiness had seemed to double when Lisa’s mom announced her campaign for mayor. Although they’d never come out and said it, Lisa got the impression that they were offended at the very idea of a Black woman running for office. They seemed to think Gibson deserved to be mayor simply because he wanted it.
That was one of the many reasons why she and Charlene preferred to hang out at Lisa’s house. Or at least they had, until everything changed on Saturday. Since then, Charlene hadn’t exactly been ignoring her—she still sat with their group at lunch—but there was a distance between them now that hadn’t been there before. She definitely wasn’t coming over to Lisa’s house anymore.
Which was why Lisa was now standing at the door of the Derrins’ enormous mansion, being treated like a servant trying to crash the ball.
The front door opened again, and Charlene came out, still in the aqua blazer that she’d worn to school. “I’ll just be a few minutes, Mom,” she said to her mother, who hovered behind her in the doorway, her bright-red lips puckered like she’d licked a lemon.
Mrs. Derrin exhaled a disapproving puff of air through her nose, but turned and went back inside, shutting the door behind her just a smidge too hard.
Charlene’s eyes briefly met Lisa’s, then slid off, down to the whitewashed boards of the porch. With one hand, she absently fiddled with the thin gold chain around her neck, which held the locket Lisa had given her for her birthday that summer. At least she hadn’t taken it off. “Why are you here?” she asked quietly.
Lisa forced a smile, trying not to let the ache in her heart bleed through. “I have something for you.”
At that, Charlene’s eyes bounced up to her face, her expression wary. “Lisa, I told you, I don’t think—”
“Just look at it, okay?” Lisa’s heart pounded. Her idea had seemed so romantic when it first occurred to her, but now she wondered if it was just stupid.
She gestured to the white wicker patio set beside the front door, where a perfectly round head of iceberg lettuce sat in the center of the table.
Charlene blinked at it for a second, her mouth twitching. Did she love it? Hate it?
Oh no. Did she not even get it?
“It’s lettuce,” Lisa said, feeling ridiculous. This was such a bad idea.
“I can see that.”
Lisa cleared her throat. Bad idea or not, she was in it now. No choice but to keep moving forward. “Can we talk? Just for a minute?”
Charlene nodded, and they sat across from each other at the table, the lettuce between them. Lisa imagined she could see a face in the leaves, taunting her. “Um, so I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said on Saturday,” she started. She risked reaching across the table and lightly touching the back of Charlene’s hand with her fingers. Charlene stiffened, but didn’t pull away. “And I miss you, Char,” Lisa said.
Charlene nodded, her chin trembling slightly. “Me too,” she whispered. She didn’t look at Lisa, but stared intently at the head of lettuce, as if it might hold the answers they were both looking for.
“I want to fix us.”
“I do, too. It’s just—” Charlene sighed, pulling her hands away and dropping them into her lap. “Everything I said on Saturday is still true. I know you’re not ready to tell everyone yet, and that’s fine. I’m not either. You know how my parents would be.”
“Mine too,” Lisa agreed. “My mom actually told me yesterday that she doesn’t want me to be seen in public with you anymore until after the election.”
Charlene nodded. “Mine said the same thing.”
“Yesterday?”
“No, a while ago.”
“Oh.” That was good, right? That Charlene had kept hanging out with her even after her parents had told her not to? Then again, maybe it wasn’t, since Charlene hadn’t bothered to tell her.
Still, Lisa opted for the optimistic interpretation. “Well, thanks for not ditching me.”
Charlene looked at her hands uncomfortably, giving a little shrug. Here, there weren’t any of the distractions of school that could help them fake normalcy. Lisa hadn’t been prepared for just how awkward it would be. And that damned lettuce kept making faces at her.
Why had she led with the lettuce?
“But I can’t be with you while you’re with someone else,” Charlene continued. “Even if it’s not real for you, it’s real for him. It’s too much for me, Lees.”
“I know.” Lisa took a deep breath, her heart racing. “That’s what I came to talk to you about. I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I think . . . I think I’m ready to tell him.”
Charlene’s eyes widened. “Really?”
Lisa swallowed, nodding. “Yeah. I don’t know if I’m ready for anyone else to know. But I think he’d keep it a secret if I asked him. And you’re right. It’s not fair to keep letting him wait for me when I know I’m not going to feel what he wants me to feel.”
Charlene bit her lip, her hand going to her necklace. “Are you going to tell him about me?”
“That’s why I came over here today. I wanted to ask what you wanted me to do. I can just tell him about me, if you’d be more comfortable with that.”
Lisa watched her closely, trying to tell what she was thinking. She knew—or at least thought she knew—that she could trust Shawn not to tell anyone, but just because she believed that didn’t mean Charlene would. Would Lisa be telling Shawn the story of an I, or the story of a we?
Whatever Charlene decided, Lisa hoped desperately that they were still a we.
Charlene kept her eyes downcast, focused on a spot on the table as she pulled the locket back and forth on its chain. Lisa wanted to move around to the other side of the table, slide her chair alongside Charlene’s so she could put her arms around her, but she held herself back. Charlene had been the one to put up the boundary between them; only she could take it down.
“Okay,” Charlene said at last. “You can tell him about me. About us.”
Lisa couldn’t keep the grin from her face. “Really?”
Charlene nodded. “And then I guess we’ll go from there.” She met Lisa’s eyes, a smile creeping back onto her own face, and placed one of her hands on the table, palm up. Lisa reached across and took it in both of hers, squeezing tight.
She’d missed being able to touch her. Her heart attempted to fly out of her chest.
“I like the lettuce,” Charlene said, rubbing her thumb over Lisa’s fingers.
Lisa laughed. “I’m so sorry. I thought it would be romantic.”
“It is romantic,” Charlene said, picking it up with her free hand and admiring it. “I hereby name it Casanova.”
Lisa snorted. “You’re giving it a name?”
“Seems like it should have one, if it’s going to be our mascot.”
“It’s going to be a stinky mascot in a couple weeks.”
“Well, there’s no rule that a mascot can’t also be a salad.” Charlene grinned, and even though it had been only a few days since they’d broken up, Lisa drank in her smile like water in a desert.
“When will you talk to him?” Charlene asked.
Lisa cleared her throat, her stomach suddenly tight. She’d been so excited about making things right with Charlene that for a second, she’d forgotten all about her conversation with Shawn. “Tomorrow, I think,” she said. “I feel like I need to tell him in person.”
“That makes sense. Call me after?”
“You bet.” The relief Lisa felt to know that Charlene would be waiting for her on the other side was almost enough to drown out her dread.
Chapter Forty-Three
SHAWN
“I just don’t understand girls.”
Shawn whipped the stone out of his hand and watched it skip along the surface of the river before disappearing into the gurgling current. He’d originally thought it might be nice to have a picnic by the river with Lisa after school today, but when she was busy—again—he’d asked Noah. They’d skipped the picnic, though, opting to skip stones instead.
Shawn dropped his gaze to the bank and began searching for another one, nudging the rocks with the toe of his shoe.
“We were great all last year. And then summer arrives, and suddenly she’ll barely even let me touch her. She spends all her time with Charlene now. I hardly even see her outside of school.” He found another rock, tossed it. Two skips. “I get that they’re best friends, but I’m her boyfriend. Shouldn’t that mean she wants to spend time with me?”
“I don’t know, man,” Noah said. He sat on the bank, making some sort of rock sculpture, his sweatshirt balled underneath him as a cushion. “Maybe she’s just not feeling it anymore.”
“I should never have told her I loved her. I think that’s what screwed it all up.”
“Do you love her?”
Shawn sighed, flinging another rock into the water as he thought about Noah’s question. Only one skip that time.
That conversation, when he told her he loved her, had been his big mistake. He knew she wouldn’t say it back, but he’d foolishly said it anyway, hoping maybe she’d prove him wrong. Of course she hadn’t. She’d been pulling away for months by then, always wanting to go out to big, crowded places rather than be alone with him.
But at the end of the school year, after finals, he’d thought they were better. For a while, it even felt like they were a team again. Like he might actually be the most important person in her world, the way she was in his. So he said it.
