The Locket (20 page)

“Exactly what I said.” He spun me in a little circle, closer to the door. The music became clearer as we moved. The band was playing a popular country song from a few years back, something about all the roads traveled before you find the one who’s your perfect match. It had never been one of my favorite songs. I didn’t like to think about traveling “other roads.” Isaac was my first road, my
only
road, my straight, clearly marked path.

Mitch grabbed my wrists and looped them around his neck before putting his own hands back on my waist. Very proper, very gentlemanly, but still . . . there was something there . . . something in the way his fingertips pressed into the small of my back that made it hard to breathe.

Surely I wasn’t imagining it. Was I?

“He loves you the way Isaac loves people,” Mitch continued.

“Which is different than the normal way of loving people?”

“What is normal?”

“I . . . don’t know,” I confessed.

We both fell silent as we swayed even closer to the lobby door, until we could hear every word the lead singer sang. The air shivered with long, sweet notes pulled from the fiddle, and through the glass we could see the wedding party spin on the dance floor.

Everyone looked so happy, so sure that the partner in their arms was the
right
partner. I’d always been sure too. So sure. And I was sure
now
, wasn’t I?
Isaac
was the one for me. The feelings I had for Mitch were because he’d been my best friend for years, because I’d loved him from the first day I’d seen him crying on the swings and wanted to hold him in my arms and tell him everything was going to be okay. I loved Mitch, but I didn’t
love
Mitch.

Mitch wasn’t the one who’d given me my first kiss when I was fourteen, Mitch wasn’t the one I’d lost my virginity to on my sixteenth birthday, Mitch wasn’t the person who I’d daydreamed about the future with for three years.

That person was Isaac. And “normal” or not, I treasured his love.

“I love Isaac,” I said, my voice strong and sure.

“I know you do, but I’m pretty sure Isaac’s way of loving is different than your way of loving. You see more, you want more,” he said. “You go all the way for people—your family, your friends, even people you don’t even know. Isaac wants to be a star, you want to be an impoverished social worker.”

“Not all social workers are impoverished. And I could major in business and still work for a nonprofit,” I said, hurrying on before Mitch could speak again. “And the only reason I don’t want to be a star is because I’m not star material. Everyone likes attention. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Everyone likes different kinds of attention.” He pulled me a little closer, seemingly oblivious to how stiff I’d become. “You wouldn’t want to be famous, you know you wouldn’t.”

I shrugged, uncomfortable with how close he was to the truth. Hadn’t I just been thinking about the plague-like nature of popularity?

“I’m not slamming Isaac.” Mitch stared out at the dancers, a distant look in his eyes. If I hadn’t known better, I wouldn’t have thought he was talking to me at all. “He’s a great guy.”

“I know that,” I said, a creaking sound making me turn and look over my shoulder. There, Athena glared down at me and Mitch, like the goddess herself disapproved.

I suddenly had an image of the base beneath the statue breaking in half and the marble giant crashing down. I could see the shock on Mitch’s face as he was knocked to the ground, hear the shattering glass as Athena broke through the doors and smashed into the wedding party. The music cut off, the singer’s soothing voice replaced by the sounds of people screaming as they struggled to lift the statue off loved ones pinned beneath. A little girl with ice cream spilled on her dress cried and—

“Katie?”

Mitch’s voice made me jump, but it was a second creak from the statue that kicked my pulse into high gear. “Did you hear that? That creaking sound?” I asked, hands fisting at his collar, prepared to pull him to safety if the statue began to fall.

“Um . . . no. I didn’t hear anything. Except the music,” Mitch said.

Another glance at the statue revealed not the slightest hint of movement. I was just losing my mind, letting my childhood fears and time-travel stress get the better of me. Athena wasn’t going to fall. Even if she did, the locket would help me go back and save anyone who’d been hurt.

The jewelry stayed cool and quiet against my skin, offering no argument but no comfort, either. I bit my lip, fighting the urge to pull it out and look at it for the millionth time. Staring at that silver
G
and the cryptic inscription wasn’t going to help me any more now than it had a week ago.

Mitch cleared his throat and spun me in another circle. “I also heard my melodious voice telling you that, aside from the standing-you-up thing, there’s nothing wrong with Isaac.”

“I never said there was,” I said, attention fully on Mitch once more. Why wasn’t he letting this go?

“But there doesn’t have to be something wrong . . . for something not to be right.” His eyes met mine, and I knew in that moment that he was going to kiss me.

Even before his lips moved closer to mine, before his hands clenched, digging into the small of my back—I knew the mistake was about to happen again. My entire body ached to kiss him back, my skin begged my brain to let this moment be whatever it was going to be.

Instead, I pulled away, breaking the circle of his arms. “I think you’ve been reading too many self-help books.” My voice trembled, betraying how close I’d been to screwing everything up all over again. Some girlfriend I was. As things stood, I had no room to judge Isaac for being tempted by someone else. But that was going to change. Right now. “And I think I need to go home.”

“Katie, I—”

“I really treasure your friendship, Mitch,” I said, forcing myself to look straight in his eyes, to make it clear that this was the last time this was ever going to happen. “You’ll always be so important to me. You know that, right?”

He stared at me, into me, searching for whatever he thought he’d found a few minutes ago, but it was gone. The weak Katie was gone. Forever. Never to return. Finally, he stopped looking and dropped his gaze to the ground. “Yeah. Me too.” When he glanced back up, his smile was almost back to normal. Almost. “And sorry if I stuck my nose in your business. You and Isaac are great together, and if his disappearing act doesn’t bother you, then who am I to start trouble?”

“You haven’t started trouble.” And neither had I. Not this time, and not ever again.

Using the locket had brought me closer to crazy than I’d ever been and maybe even
ruined
Theo’s life. I wasn’t going to let that be for nothing. Isaac and I were going to make it, no matter what. Even if Isaac had done something with Rachel, we would get past it. I could forgive him. Even if—in another life—he
hadn’t
been able to forgive me.

“I should get home,” I said, taking another firm step away from Mitch. “I want to call Isaac and see if he and his dad made up after their fight.”

Mitch sighed and fell in beside me as I walked to the door. “What were they fighting about?”

The story filled the space while we fetched our bikes and waved goodbye to the bride and groom, giving us something to talk about while the last of the awkwardness between us faded away, banished into the unrepeatable past. By the time we reached Mitch’s van, we were just friends again. For now. For always.

Chapter Fifteen

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 9, 2:01 P.M.

O
nly one more day. One more day until my birthday. Then the do over would be over, the wrinkles in time would smooth, and I’d be able to take the locket off and move on with my life. I had to believe that. I had to believe the picture of my grandfather would stop flickering, and the weird inconsistencies would stop, and the—

“Katie, could I borrow a ponytail holder?” Rachel asked, sliding in next to me at the dressing room mirrors. In the new world, juniors and seniors had gym class together seventh period.

Because God was cruel and fate unkind and wishes come true didn’t play out the way you thought they would.

“Sure.” I fumbled for a few holders from my makeup bag and handed them over. “Take three. It’s not like I need them anymore.”

“I love the new look. It’s so you.” She ran her fingers along the bottom of my bob before brushing her own long brown hair into a ponytail.

I fought the wave of nausea inspired by her touch and forced a smile. I’d done my best to put my suspicions about her and Isaac out of my mind, but it wasn’t easy.

Isaac hadn’t helped shore up my wavering faith by skipping school today. After the fashion show last night, he’d disappeared and hadn’t called me until a few minutes before class this morning. He was allegedly hitting the mall with his mom, but I found the excuse hard to swallow. In all the years I’d known him, Isaac had steadfastly refused to enter a mall with his shopaholic mother. Even getting to skip class wouldn’t usually be enough to get him to agree to such a thing.

Then there was the fact that Rachel hadn’t checked into school until lunch hour. She’d said she’d been too “drained” from coordinating the fashion show to make her morning classes, but it seemed horribly convenient—Isaac and Rachel gone at the same time when neither of them had missed school all year.

My imagination had been running wild, torturing me with scenes of Isaac and Rachel and what might have been.

And that had been
before
Sarah pulled me aside just before class and said she wanted to talk to me in private after school. The look in her eyes had promised I wasn’t going to enjoy our conversation. I could only guess that she planned to tell me whatever she knew about Rachel and Isaac. In less than an hour I’d know the truth.

I struggled to swallow a rush of acid that surged into my throat. Ugh. I was falling apart. I probably had an ulcer, but I hadn’t bothered to ask my mom to make a doctor’s appointment. I kept hoping it would go away, just like I hoped everything that hurt or scared me would go away. Just like I’d wanted the mess I’d made with Mitch to go away.

Seemed like I would have learned my lesson about wishful thinking by now, but I hadn’t. I still didn’t want to hear whatever it was that Sarah was going to tell me. It made me wish for a fire drill or a bomb threat . . .
something
that would allow me to slip out to the parking lot without having that conversation.

“And I really like the color,” Rachel continued, adjusting her ponytail a little higher on her head. “It’s a lot more interesting than plain red.”

“Thanks. Yin’s mom is so great.”

“Totally,” Rachel agreed.

I turned back to my own alien reflection, ignoring the perfectly made-up face staring back at me, trying to stay calm as I brushed on a coat of lip gloss. I didn’t know why we put on lip gloss
before
gym class, but the popular girls did, so now I did too. Last night’s fashion-show performance had cemented my platinum status. The dress I’d modeled had sold for four thousand dollars, the highest price fetched by any outfit in the show.

“Isaac must love it. Did he tell you he loved it?” Rachel’s tone was filled with so much fake sweetness that I nearly turned and walked over to Sarah.

I could see her reflection in the mirror. She was already dressed out even though we had five more minutes until we had to be in the gym. I could go to her and ask for the truth right here, right now.

Instead, I plunked my lip gloss back in my bag and dug around for some hair spray to keep my new bangs out of my face.

One more day.
The locket would come off in one more day and who knew what the “truth” would be then? Maybe things would stay the same, but maybe they’d be different. Maybe I wouldn’t have to worry about Isaac and Rachel because there wouldn’t
be
any Isaac and Rachel. Maybe—

“Oh my God!” Rachel screamed, and knocked my hair spray out of my hands. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with
you
?” I shook my stinging hand and glared openly at Rachel in a way I never would have dared before. But I couldn’t help it. I was just so stressed out and scared.

The locket was making me crazy, stealing every ounce of joy and hope from my life, making a joke of the second chance it had given me, twisting every dream I’d had into some sad, pale imitation of what I’d thought I’d wanted, showing me what a failure I was.

“I was trying to keep you from spraying deodorant in your
face
, but if you’re going to be a bitch . . .” Her eyes flicked to the ground and then back to me. “Then Dove it up.”

I looked to my feet, wincing when I saw that she was right. It was a can of Dove spray deodorant on the ground, not hair spray. Failure. More failure. Even at fixing my stupid hair.

“I can’t believe you even use that stuff,” she said, turning away from the mirror with a disgusted sniff. “Aerosol is so bad for the environment.”

I knew that. That’s why I
didn’t
use spray deodorant. I used roll on. Degree roll on, but no one would believe me if I told them the truth. Who believed in time travel? And even if they did, who would believe that traveling through time changed stupid little things like which kind of deodorant you used or the color of a coffee shop door?

No one. That’s who. Especially not Rachel, a girl who had always reveled in my mortification, a girl who was only being nice to me because of a freak accident, a girl who would stop being nice to me as soon as my popularity faded or—

The locket warmed against my chest, shocking me from my thoughts. I stared—wide-eyed—at my reflection, praying for the metal to cool down again. I didn’t want to go back and relive anything ever again. Let Rachel think I was a freak. I just wanted my life to go back to normal. I didn’t want any more scars or mistakes that weren’t “meant to last.”

The locket gave second chances I wasn’t sure anyone was supposed to have. I was beginning to think there was a reason we only got one opportunity to do things right. Knowing nothing was set in stone made the whole world topsy-turvy, terrifying. Wrong.