The Locket (15 page)

“You should do it,” Sarah said, surprising me. “I mean, it’s your birthday next Saturday, anyway, and—”

“Perfect, then it’s decided. We’ll have makeover girls’ night after rehearsal on Wednesday.” Rachel wrinkled her nose and cast a nasty look at the ceiling. “I’ll get my dad to call some people to make sure this death trap is repaired before then.”

“Come on, Katie, I’ll walk you out to your car,” Natalie said, looping her arm through mine.

I cast Sarah a confused look, but she just shrugged and grabbed my backpack from the wall. “Drive safe. We’ll do that coffee another day?”

“Yeah, for sure.” I waved at the other girls, and they waved back, offering well-wishes and further promises that Wednesday would be a day of “pure awesome.”

“Just wait until Wednesday. Yin’s mom is a genius, she’s going to make you look amazing,” Natalie said, smiling as we pushed out the back door and crossed the lot to my car. “A few highlights will really bring out the depth in your hair.”

My hair had depth? I had no idea. “Sounds great.” Gray clouds hung low and threatening, making the red leaves on the pin oaks surrounding the parking lot look even redder, like the trees were bleeding into the sky. I shivered, suddenly cold. It had been a bright sunny day without a chance of rain before my second do over. Now it looked like a storm would hit any minute. “It’s really nice of y’all to do this for me.”

“You totally deserve it! I mean, if Isaac can’t see how gorgeous you are, we’ll just have to remind him, right?”

“Um . . . right.” My mouth went dry and I forced myself to take another sip of the Coke in my hand.

What did she mean? Had Isaac said something about me to the senior girls? Something about thinking I wasn’t attractive anymore? Despite my own doubts about my appearance, I had a hard time believing Isaac would
ever
say something mean about the way I looked. He’d always told me I was pretty—beautiful, even. And there was no mistaking the look in his eyes when I came down the stairs for a date wearing my tight jeans.

Or there’d been no mistaking the look in his eyes
before
this latest do over. Maybe, in this new world, Isaac didn’t think I was the one who did the sparkling in our relationship.

The thought made my hand start shaking again as I dug through my backpack for my keys. I had to find out what Natalie was talking about, even if it made me seem like a freak.

“So . . . did he say something?” I asked, trying to sound casual and failing miserably. I sounded as anxious and pathetic as I felt. “About wishing I’d wear makeup more often or something?”

She shook her head, genuinely confused. “Oh, no. He never said anything, I just . . .” Natalie bit her lip and I watched her decision to lie play out behind her bright blue eyes. “You know, it’s nothing. I was confusing Isaac with someone else.”

Someone else. Someone who had done
something
to make her doubt that he was happy with his present dating situation. Something like . . . what? I didn’t really want to know, but my lips were forming questions before I could stop them.

“Really? Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yeah, totally sure. Boy mix-up.” Natalie twirled her hair between her fingers, giving her hand something to do while she lied to me. Again. Isaac had done something to make her believe he wasn’t happy. There was no doubt about it. Natalie wasn’t mean. She wasn’t the kind of girl who tried to break couples up for no reason. She must have seen something. Or at least heard something. “I had to get up way too early this morning, my brain is fried.”

But she wasn’t going to tell me the truth. She didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news. She’d only said something because she thought I already knew what she was talking about. Maybe in this life, I
should
know. But I didn’t, because I’d traveled through time. Twice.

“Me too,” I said, the sick feeling in my stomach spreading out across my body until even my fingers and toes felt wretched. “I think I’ll go home and snag a nap.”

“Good idea. See you Monday!”

“Monday.” I waved goodbye and jumped into my car, a nap the furthest thing from my mind.

I had to go see Isaac. I had to see for myself if he still loved me or if I’d ruined my life when the locket decided I should save Rachel’s, by fixing a “mistake” that wasn’t even mine to begin with.

Chapter Eleven

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 3, 3:20 P.M.

W
e don’t have to watch the game, we can watch something else,” Isaac said, but he made no move to reach for the remote control. Usually, I would jump at the chance to watch something other than football. Today, I just pulled him closer, snuggling my face into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt.

We were lying on the couch in his basement under the Bearcats fleece blanket I’d given him for Christmas last year, just like we’d done a hundred Saturdays before. He’d been happy to see me and sincerely concerned when I’d told him about the broken light grid. He’d hugged me so tight my spine had popped in a couple of places and made me promise never to climb up there and put myself in danger ever again. All very loving, good-boyfriend-type behavior.

Still, I couldn’t get Natalie’s words out of my mind.

“Isaac . . . you’ve never said anything about the way I look to anyone, have you?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the television and my tone light.

“Um . . . something like what?” He grabbed his Gatorade from the table and took a drink.

“I don’t know, like, you’ve never said you don’t like my hair or . . . whatever?”

Isaac laughed, a completely innocent sound. “Babe, guys don’t talk about stuff like that.”

“So you’ve never said anything?”

“No. I don’t talk about you to other guys. You’re none of their business.”

“Even Mitch?” I lifted my head from his chest, staring into his face.

Isaac shrugged. “Maybe. When we were first dating, I’d ask Mitch things. Like, what I should say to you and stuff. But not for a long time.”

“Okay.” I stared into his eyes, seeing nothing that made me doubt him. The tightness in my chest eased the slightest bit. “I just wanted to make sure we were good. Me and you.”

“Of course we are. We’re great.” He ran his hand through my hair, a serious look on his gorgeous face. His blue eyes focused in on mine, making me feel more solid than I had a second ago. “Is this because I didn’t make it to the apple-picking thing yesterday? You know I couldn’t help it. Practice ran late and—”

“I know. It’s not that. Mitch and I had fun,” I said, then hurried to add, “It would have been better with you there, but—”

“So why don’t we all do something together Wednesday night? After you get fabulous?” he asked, obviously trying to make nice. “They’re setting up for career night in the gym so we don’t have practice. We could go ride bikes again, or whatever.”

“That would be great. I want us all to stay good friends.”

Isaac turned back to the TV as the referee announced a flag on the field. “Sure, we’ll always be friends. I always thought Mitch’d be the best man when we get married.”

“Yeah. That would be perfect.” But for some reason Isaac’s casual mention of our future married life didn’t make me feel warm and safe the way it usually did. It made me . . . anxious. After a few minutes, it was impossible to stay snuggled under the blanket. It was hot, smothering. “I’m going to head home, okay? I’ve got some homework I want to finish before tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He didn’t take his eyes from the game as I untangled myself and crawled off the couch. “You want to go get dinner later or something? Maybe pizza?”

“Sure, call me.”

“I will. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I hurried out the back door that led into Isaac’s mother’s garden and circled around the house to get to my car. I didn’t want to go upstairs and out the front door. I wasn’t up to another visit with Isaac’s mom and dad. I just wanted to get home and talk to Gran.

But when I pulled into my driveway a few minutes later, I knew grilling my grandmother about the locket was going to have to wait a little longer.

Mitch had found his surprise.

Music drifted through the yard, something sweet and aching that Mitch played so soulfully I knew it had to be one of his own songs. How he’d gotten both himself and his guitar up into the tree house, however, was something I couldn’t imagine.

The music stopped, and Mitch turned, almost as if he could feel me looking his way. “Hey! There you are. You are the best friend in the world, Minnesota,” he called, waving his arms from on top of the platform.

The platform that was
way
higher in the tree than it had been when I left for fashion-show rehearsal this morning. The limb where my dad had nailed my creation had vanished completely. Now the lowest limb was thirty feet in the air and the entire tree was bigger, scarier. Using the locket had added at least fifty years of growth to a tree in my backyard.

How was that even
possible
?

I’d altered one thing, one
tiny
moment, and the ripple of change had affected everything in my life, even things not in any way related to me or Rachel or that stupid light. It didn’t make sense . . . but then, what did I really know about time travel? Or fate? Or magic?

Nothing. I knew
nothing
. And it was scaring me more and more.

My hand drifted to my chest, where a second, ridged scar was nestled next to the first. At this rate, I’d never be able to wear a V-neck shirt, let alone a bathing suit. If the locket pulled me back too many more times, I’d look like a burn victim.

How was I going to explain to Isaac what had caused the marks on my skin? We hadn’t been together since my do over, but we were bound to get the chance sooner or later. What would he say when he saw the locket-shaped burn marks? What would he do when I told him I couldn’t get the locket off, no matter how hard I tried?

“Hey, Katie, you okay?” Mitch yelled.

Forcing my hand away from the locket, I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the bright side. Rachel was alive, Isaac still loved me, and Mitch had a new tree house. It was selfish to worry about a few scars when the locket had done nothing but great things for the people in my life.

And in a crazy way, the scars were almost comforting. They were the sacrifice I made for a miracle. Nothing came without a price. I’d be even more anxious if the locket seemed to cost me nothing.

“Katie, are you—”

“Hey! I’m fine.” I waved and started across our sloping backyard to the giant tree. I had a clear path since our fence had vanished along with the low tree limb. But that was fine,
more
than fine. Who needed a fence in a safe, suburban neighborhood like ours?

That’s right. Thinking positively. Looking on the bright side.

“I thought you were afraid of heights?” I asked, tilting my head to look up at Mitch. “How did you get up there? With your guitar?”

“I strapped it on my back and climbed. Fear could not keep me from my tree house.” He smiled down at me, his dark eyes sparkling, so happy I couldn’t help but smile back. “Your dad said you made this all by yourself.”

“I did. I’m handy with power tools, turns out.”

Mitch shook his head. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any hotter.”

“Right.” I rolled my eyes, ignoring the heat rushing to my cheeks. This was Mitch joking around, nothing more. I could see in his face that we’d never kissed in this version of reality either. “I should be even ‘hotter’ come Wednesday.” I filled Mitch in on the theater drama and my impending makeover.

“Don’t let them ruin you,” Mitch said, suddenly serious. “I like you the way you are.”

“Thanks.” I looked down at the leaves beneath my feet, flustered. Isaac had seemed excited that I was going to get renovated by the popular girls. Shouldn’t
he
have been the one telling me I didn’t need new hair or clothes?

“So are you coming up or not?”

“Um . . . not.” I lifted my face, wincing at the thought of starting up the ladder nailed to the side of the tree. “After the light-grid thing I’m feeling my height fear in new and powerful ways.”

“Understandable. Later, then?”

“Much later. Like, maybe this summer? Maybe . . . or not?”

He laughed. “Okay, but still . . . thanks. This made my day, my month. I can’t believe you did this.”

I shrugged, uncomfortable with Mitch’s gratitude. I knew I didn’t deserve it, not really. I hadn’t been a very good friend to him before the do over. “It’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal. Just say ‘you’re welcome,’ okay?” Mitch’s voice was tight, like a guitar string about to break.

“You’re welcome.” I paused, searching his face, finding that same sadness I’d seen in the coffee shop lurking beneath his smile. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “Just getting a few minutes to myself. Lauren and Dad are working on their guest list for the wedding reception. I was in charge of watching Ricky, but he had a meltdown because I couldn’t get the PlayStation to play his Elmo game. Then Dad freaked out because he thought I’d yelled at Ricky, but I didn’t yell
at
Ricky, I yelled to be heard over
Ricky’s
yelling and . . . yeah.”

“Not the best babysitting gig ever, huh?”

Mitch shrugged. “It wasn’t that bad. Just a charming reminder of how unskilled we are at being a family of more than two.”

Guess his dad and Lauren were still getting married and Ricky still existed. I didn’t know whether to be pleased or nervous. “So, is the adoption stuff still bothering you?”

He shook his head. “No, not as much. Dad really loves Ricky, as much as he does Lauren, and I’m leaving anyway, so . . . I guess it makes sense.” He smiled and his tone lightened. “Besides, there’s always family therapy, right?”

“That’s what I always say,” I said, trying to play along.

“Right, Minnesota. Like you and your perfect family need therapy. You’re probably the only functional people on the street.”

I laughed, but it was strained, thin. Mitch had no idea how much I’d appreciate a little therapy right now.