“Like what? You did the right thing, Laney.”
“But I could’ve walked away and never told Mom. You asked me not to tell her, and I did anyway. I could’ve gone with you instead of Mom.” I sit down on my beanbag chair.
“That would’ve killed your mother. I know because it nearly killed me. Laney, you did the right thing. I may have said differently back then, but I was in a bad place at the time. I wasn’t being fair to your mother. She should’ve sent me packing long before you told her anything.”
“Khannan told me you and Mom were having problems, but I didn’t believe him.”
“Who’s Khannan?”
I hesitate. “Her boyfriend. He and his son, Eddie, live with us.”
“I’m glad she found someone.”
My chest hurts. He seems genuinely happy for her. Maybe I’d hoped he’d be angry and want her back. “I wish you two could be together again.”
“Won’t happen, Laney. I’m sorry. Is he educated?”
I twist my hair around my finger. “He’s a software engineer.”
“Good. Hannah needed somebody who worked with his head instead of his hands. Do you like him?”
“He’s OK, but he’s not you. He’s not my father.”
“Is she happy? Is he good to her and to you?”
“She seems to be. He makes dinner. And the bed.” And has wild sex with her, which I still can’t believe.
He laughs. “Good for him! And for her. Can’t remember the last time I made my bed.”
“Dad, I want to visit you. Mom’s going to work at Fermilab for six weeks, and I don’t want to stay with Khannan and Eddie by myself.”
“Why not? You said Khannan was OK.” His voice lowers. “Has Eddie bothered you?”
What should I say? I think a version of me had sex with him? “No, he spends most of his time playing video games in his room. What’s wrong is in my head. I just dreamed I went with a guy to watch a meteor shower in the park. Though I’m not sure it was a dream. He was drunk, and he groped me. I turned him down, and he wrecked his truck, killing us both.”
“Just a bad dream, Laney. You obviously didn’t die.”
But I think I did.“It seemed real. That kind of thing’s been happening a lot.”
“You said he was drunk.” His pauses. “Are you drinking with boys?”
“No. No booze, no sex, no drugs.” At least the version of me I know doesn’t.
“That’s better than me at your age. Are your friends bullying you? Is that why you need to get away?”
“No. It’s hard to explain on the phone. I need to talk to you in person.”
“You know it’s the dead of winter now. Twenty below today and colder tomorrow. It’s a big change from Austin.”
I stand up as my stomach drops. “You don’t want me?”
“That’s not what I said. I’d love to see you. Just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into. Does Hannah know you want to visit?”
“Yes.”
“And that’s OK with her?”
“Yes.” Please!
“When does your break start?”
“Two days. I could fly up Friday. Where do you live?”
“A town south of Fairbanks, so you’d fly into there.”
“I can come?” My head buzzes, and I’m up on my toes, my hand above my head.
“If Hannah lets you. I’d love to see you.”
“Yes!” I scream and stomp my foot. “Shit, I’m sorry for yelling. Thank you! Thank you.”
He laughs. “Laney, you’re gonna need some clothes.”
“I’ve got some money. Send me a list of what I need.”
“I’ll text you tomorrow morning and call Hannah.”
“OK. Dad, I love you.” Please say it back.
“And I love you, Baby Girl. That’ll never change. And I’m glad you had the balls to call me. I sure didn’t.”
A grin spreads clear across my face. “Mom says I got my boobs from you, but I’m still waiting on the balls.”
We both laugh, and it feels amazing. We used to laugh all the time.
“You know what I meant. We probably shouldn’t be talking about boobs and balls.”
“I’m sixteen. We can talk about anything.”
“If you say so, Laney.”
There’s a pause and I know we’re thinking the same thing.
Why didn’t I listen three years ago? “I know you tried talking to me about what happened with you and Gibbs, but I wouldn’t listen. I don’t know why. Something just wouldn’t let me. But that won’t happen again. I have stuff I need to say to you, and I’m sure you have things to say to me. I’ll listen. I promise.”
“Works for me, Baby Girl. And I’ll listen to anything you want to tell me.”
“Cool.” And for the first time in forever I feel calm and hopeful.
“You should get to bed. Don’t you have tests or something?”
“Yeah, but I’ll be all right. Mom gave me some of her brains.”
“You should be happy they came from her and not me. Good night, Laney. Call me anytime.”
“Good night, Dad.” I hug the phone to my chest. I’m going to see him, and everything’s going to get better. At least, that’s what I want to believe.
But after a few seconds, my mind flashes back to the scene in the wrecked truck. I remember the cracked glass on my phone, but the one I hold now is intact.
I find Garrett’s message, Almost there and my response of OK. But I also find later messages. Ten minutes after OK, he asks, Where are you? Then three minutes later, Are you coming, or not? Then, What a damn waste of my time, Laney! You could’ve at least told me you chickened out! Such a fucking tease.
I go to my mirror, unbutton my shirt, and open my bra. No bruises. As hard as he pinched my breasts, there should be marks.
Neither my body nor my phone recorded any proof I met Garrett, but all the events are clearly in my mind.
When I left the house, everything went with me, including my phone and my sweats. The me who slept at home kept her clothes and phone.
My body died in the truck, but my consciousness returned to the girl who didn’t leave her house.
I couldn’t have returned to the moment before I closed the door when his truck sat outside my house. Or the moment when I thought about opening the door and jumping out of the truck. Because those events are in the past. But I could focus my mind on my room where I slept at my desk, even after the wreck.
Had I skipped sideways from one universe to another? Or did that Laney’s death leak into my memory just like another Laney’s encounter with Khannan filled my mind earlier today?
I’m not sure, but I would have proof tomorrow of whether the wreck was real when I asked Garrett about Marissa’s party and the video he’d seen of me.
8
Even though I can’t find bruises on my body this morning, I feel like I’ve been manhandled by Garrett and his truck. The only thing that pumps me up is the prospect of proving what happened to me last night. As I push the shower pouf down my stomach, I remember somebody else I need to talk to—Eddie. I saw his birthmark in one of my episodes. I’ve never seen him shirtless otherwise. Is it real or imagined?
The question is—how to ask?
I dry quickly, wrap myself in a robe, and rub gelled fingers through my hair which I twist into a ponytail. I walk to the kitchen for coffee and find Eddie sitting at the table, head in hands, bent over his Precalculus book.
“Hey, Eddie. Whatcha doing?” I pour coffee and add cream.
He looks up through bloodshot eyes. “What’s it look like? We have a final today.”
Shit! I forgot. I sit across from him. “You been studying all night?”
“Most of it,” he mumbles. “Didn’t you?”
“No, I crashed around 2:30.” Literally. “Then my dad called.”
“Your dad? Why’d he call so late?”
Because he had to help me skip.“To bring me back to life.”
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Eddie raises his brows and twists his mouth.
“Seriously. I dreamt I’d died.”
“Freaky.” His face bends toward his book again.
Should I? Hell, why not? “You were in one of my dreams.”
He perks up. “Doing what?”
I smile and sip my coffee. “I’m too embarrassed to tell you.”
A big smile exposes his teeth. “But you’re going to tell me anyway.”
“You wish.” Another sip as I stare at his eyes. “Actually we were swimming at the lake during the summer.”
“And you were wearing . . .”
“More than you were hoping for, I’m sure. But anyway I saw a light purple mark on your stomach, just above your belly button, and I was wondering if that’s real.”
He frowns, sits back, and folds his arms. “How did you know?”
I almost drop my cup. “Do you?”
“OK. We’ve never gone swimming together. When did you see me without a shirt?”
I’m shaking. I’m so excited. “Can’t think of a time. Show me.”
“Have you been spying on me? Is there a camera in my room somewhere?”
I stand up, my pulse thumping in both arms. “C’mon, Eddie. If I had a camera, why would I need to ask you? Show me. Please. It’s important.”
“Why?”
“Just do it!”
He stands, squinting his eyes at me, and pulls his t-shirt out of his jeans. And there it is, like a teardrop poised above his button. “That’s exactly what I saw in my dream. I said something like, ‘That’s cute,’ and you said, ‘No, it’s not. I hate it.’ But it is cute, Eddie. Thanks for showing me.”
I pick up my cup and start to turn around.
“Wait. I dreamed you had a mole right between your . . .”
I raise my right brow and put one hand on my hip. “My what, Eddie?”
“Your boobs.” He smiles.
“Must’ve been someone else. I have perfect, unflawed skin between mine. I’m sure you dream of boobs and moles all the time.”
“Prove it! I think you’re lying.”
“Boys are truly disgusting.” I tighten my robe and turn around. “Keep dreaming, Eddie. That’s as close as you’ll get to seeing the truth.”
“Hey! How did you know?”
I stop and pivot around. “Like you said. I’ve got cameras everywhere.”
I watch his eyes bulge. “No way.”
He’s worried I can see what’s on his computer screen when he hides in his room for hours. I take pity on him. “If you’re nice and drop this topic now, I’ll help you study during lunch today. Deal?”
“Yeah.”
I hurry back to my room. I stopped Eddie’s advances months ago, but another version of me did not. We had sex, including using Mom’s ropes and the kitchen chair, and that version thought nothing about racing into the bathroom to pee before he closed the door.
Which means another Laney used pot and partied with Marissa and Kaitlyn. I know Garrett didn’t watch a video of me—he was drunk and horny, so any pair of boobs would feed his fantasies—but he told me he had. I wouldn’t know about the party or the video without being with him last night.
I’m not skipping into those universes. They’re leaking into mine.
But why?
I dress quickly then hear my phone buzz. Dad has sent his list to both me and Mom.
Waterproof parka, snow pants, insulated boots which fit over thick socks, fleece jacket, facemask, good knit hat, warm gloves. You might also want long underwear since I plan to take you snowmachining and maybe skiing.
What’s snowmachining? I type it into Google and see videos of crazy people flying above the snow holding onto what looks like a steel fly with skis in the front. Or in the middle of a huge expanse of white, no one within miles.
Dad always liked to be as far away from roads and crowds as he could get. I guess being on a snowy mountain in the middle of nowhere would be his heaven. Maybe mine too.
I grab my pack and go to the kitchen for cereal or whatever Khannan has made. Eddie is still at the table, eating a banana. Mom is typing on her computer, a plate of eggs and toast at the side.
“I have some for you if you want them,” says Khannan, holding out a plate for me.
“Thanks.” I sit next to Mom, smiling. “He called me back at 2:30.”
She looks up over her glasses. “And you’re surprised?”
“No, but at the time it was surprising.” That’s an understatement. “He said I can fly up on Friday.”
“I know. I’m buying your ticket now.”
“Thank you!” I reach over and hug her. I thought I’d have to argue with her about going. Unless she wants me to go. But why?
“He called me at six this morning to tell me you two had talked and to make sure I would let you go. I asked him how he was doing, about his job and where he lived.” She raises her brows. “I want to make sure you’ll be all right.”
“And?” I shove a forkful of cheesy eggs into my mouth. Khannan is such a good cook.
“Gibbs doesn’t live with him, he said, but she’s nearby.”
“Is she still . . .” Why would Mom let me go if Gibbs is there?
“Off and on, he said. He keeps an eye on her and helps her when he can.”
I don’t detect any jealousy or anger. Why?
Mom opens her messages and gives me her phone. “He sent some photos of his place. It will certainly be a change from here.”
Before I look at the pics, I flash back to yesterday and last night. Why wouldn’t I want a change?
Then I see mounds of snow covering everything—roofs, porches, driveway, roads, cars. The only thing not suffocated by snow are the walls of his vanilla-beige house, his truck, a snow machine, and some branches of evergreen trees. He had to use a flash for all these because it’s dark outside. I see white dots throughout the photos and realize it was snowing when he shot them.
Inside, I see a wood stove with a stack of wood a few feet away, wood-covered walls with a few shelves and an animal skin hanging behind a sofa. A decent-sized kitchen with pots and skillets hanging from the ceiling above a small table, and a cat on the windowsill behind the sink. An entry room with a bench, jackets, and boots. And a tiny bedroom with plastic crates stacked against a wall with a twin bed that looks like someone has slept there recently. Maybe Gibbs?
I see a note below that photo. This will be Laney’s. I’ll clean it up before she gets here.
A photo of the bathroom with the note—Indoor plumbing! I never thought the opposite was a possibility.
And another note—Yes, I have TV, internet, and cell phone reception, and electricity that stays on most of the time.
I hand back her phone.
“Well, what do you think?” asks Mom with a wry grin on her face.
I will admit that I didn’t expect this and that my first reaction is not Wow! Or Can’t wait! But Are you kidding me? Then I look at Eddie with a chunk of banana hanging out of his mouth as he flips a page in his book. And Khannan scratching his chest while he scrolls through his phone.
I can’t stay here. I know Dad can help me understand what’s happening to me. Everything started when I saw him and Gibbs in the woods. Before that, I didn’t write about changing the past. I didn’t need counseling. I didn’t obsessively count choices each day.
But the latest twists? I cannot forget hanging upside down in a broken truck cab watching my blood pump out. Or the chair or the girl who may have been me.
They started yesterday. Why?
“Laney?”
The article! Reading those articles. Somehow that has something to do with the leaking and the skipping. Twin girls disappeared near the area I found Dad and Gibbs. I didn’t disappear, but the girl I used to be? Gone forever.
Why have I read those articles so many times?
I’m not going to find that answer here.
“Laney!” Mom shakes my arm.
“Oh, sor
ry.”
“Tell me now before I click the button to purchase the ticket.”
“I think it will be a great adventure. I want to go.”
“OK. Your flight leaves at 5:30 on Friday afternoon. I’ll come home early today so we can go shopping after school.” She grabs my hand.
“Thanks, Mom.” I kiss her cheek, which I haven’t done in such a long time.
She grabs me and presses her cheek against mine. Then kisses me back. “We need to do more of that and not wait until you’re about to leave.”
“We would if my head wasn’t such a mess. I’ve got to go.” I grab my pack. “Eddie, would you please shove the rest of that banana into your mouth? It’s disgusting.”
He looks up, chewing it open-mouthed. “Is that better?”
Ugh! “Thanks for breakfast, Khannan.” I head for the front door and my car, grateful that I never had to deal with driving Eddie to school with me. Once they moved in with us, Khannan arranged for Eddie’s cousin to pick him up every morning.
A few minutes later, I’m lowering my window to say hi to Big Gus at the school’s outer gate. He’s a good-ole Texas boy with a handlebar mustache shaded by a cowboy hat. The .45 strapped to his hip makes him look like he escaped from an old Western movie. He knows everybody’s name and birthday—even their grades.
“Howdy, Miss Delaney. How’re you doing today?”
“Pretty good, Gus, except I have finals I didn’t study for.”
“They still don’t stand a chance against you, girl. When’s the last time you didn’t make an A+?”
He knows when. Right after Dad left town at the beginning of eighth grade. “Three years ago. I’m going to see him in two days.”
“Is that right?” He smiles so big I can see his two gold crowns near the back of his jaw. “I’m so happy for you.” His huge hand reaches up to the brim of his hat, pulling it slightly. “Have a great day, Delaney.” He points his sausage finger at me with a wink. “And show no mercy to those exams, ya hear?”
“Yes, sir!” I drive toward the parking lot. He’s been greeting me at the gate for years. I can’t imagine coming to school without his big “Howdy” to start the day.
I find a spot, park, and walk across the lot, keeping an eye out for Garrett. I want to catch him outside if I can. I climb up a few stairs toward the main entrance, stop, and look for his truck but can’t find it anywhere. A jeep drives up to the curb, and Garrett opens the passenger door.
Some Laneys Died: A Skipping Sideways Thriller Page 6
