Daring Hearts: Fearless Fourteen Boxed Set

by Box Set

  Oh, man, I hope they hadn’t. I don’t know what I would do if Nate cheated on me with her.

  I was such a hypocrite!

  Only three more days and Nate would be back. We could put this whole craziness behind us. Move on from Fiona and Austin.

  My phone beeped. I grabbed it and squealed.

  Nate: Can’t wait to get home and see you. Sorry about overreacting the other day. Won’t ever forget to buy a phone plan again!

  My belly filled with gooey happiness. I ignored the inference that Nate would be traveling around the world without me again in the future, and focused on the part were he couldn’t wait to see me.

  My phone beeped again, and I smiled, anticipating another text from Nate.

  It was Lucinda, and I reigned in my disappointment. I missed my best friend and had planned to connect with her next. I frowned at her text.

  Lucinda: Have you seen this? Looks like YOU had a good time. Must talk soon.

  She posted a picture. It was from the pool party at Bluebell’s mansion. A profile shot of Austin and me lip-locking.

  Oh, no.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Lucinda and I had been best friends since we were eight years old. I accidentally took her back in time when we were ten, and to say she had been traumatized by the experience would be an understatement. She couldn’t even look at me for a week at school and when I did manage to catch her dark brown eyes, they flashed with fear.

  Eventually, she warmed up to me again, and her fear was overshadowed by empathy. As long as she didn’t touch me, she was safe. Our friendship grew over the years. We watched movies on weekends, did homework while eating pizza, and as we got older, boy-watched from the sidelines. We were both happy in our awkward middle-school years since we had each other and didn’t mind staying on the peripheral of the social scene, a status that continued when we became freshmen in high school.

  Lucinda had been a faithful keeper of my secret for years, and because of this, I told her everything. Besides my brother and my boyfriend who’d only discovered my “gift” in the last couple years, she was the only other person who knew about my propensity to fall back in time. She was my only friend who knew.

  Until now, with Adeline.

  Lucinda was a great friend, but that didn’t make her a perfect person, and one flaw she did have was a tendency toward jealousy if she felt her position as my BFF was being threatened. It took her a while to accept Nate when he came into my life, and it was only when she started having her own boyfriends that he became a non-issue for her.

  I’d been home from Hollywood for three days, and I still hadn’t told her about the trip to the twenties, mainly because I didn’t want to tell her how I’d somehow changed my time loop, because to do that, I’d have to bring up Adeline, and I didn’t want to do that if I didn’t have to.

  We had discussed in depth my short but devastating kissing session with Austin King.

  “He keeps staring at you,” Lucinda said as we sat at our usual table in the cafeteria.

  My heart jittered at her words. “Just ignore him.”

  She snorted. “He’s going to drill a hole in the back of your head with his gaze.”

  My phone buzzed before I had a chance to respond, and I was glad for the distraction. It was Adeline texting.

  Our time in the twenties had been a bonding experience and we’d been messaging each other a couple times a day since. Neither of us had ever met anyone who truly understood the challenges we faced on a daily basis. How acute our senses had to be when we traveled back just to survive and how sometimes they just were not acute enough and you still ended up in jail.

  Casey: Have you tripped since?

  Adeline: No, thank goodness.

  Casey: Me neither.

  Adeline: Though I’m curious if I’ll reset back to the fifties or if it’s the twenties for good.

  Casey: That’s what I want to know!

  Adeline: Have you worked things out with Nate?

  Casey: Not yet. He gets home today. I’m excited and nervous.

  “Who are you talking to?”

  My head jerked up at Lucinda’s voice. “Oh.” I couldn’t out and out lie to her, so I tried for vague. “This girl I met in Hollywood.”

  Lucinda flicked her straight dark hair over her shoulder. “What’s her name?”

  I hesitated. “Adeline.” Why couldn’t she have a super common name like Sarah or Jessica. Lucinda always had a brain for details, and I knew she’d remember.

  She cocked her head. “Wasn’t that the name of that girl you met once, who said she was also a traveler?”

  I nodded, not breaking our gaze. Lucinda blinked and her face hardened. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”

  “I was going to, it’s just, a lot more happened than trips to Universal Studios and the wax museum.”

  “Isn’t that more reason to tell me?”

  “I know, I was going to.”

  Lucinda’s eyes narrowed at me. “Were you?”

  My phone buzzed again and I checked the message.

  Adeline: Marco wants to talk tonight. I think he’s sensing I’m backing off. What should I do? I thought I was sure, but now I’m not so sure.”

  I glanced back up at Lucinda. “I’ll tell you all about it, I promise. I just need to respond to this.”

  Lucinda scowled and picked up her tray. “You don’t have to tell me, you know.” Her words were laced with bitterness. “We’re not married. If you want to keep this new friendship to yourself, and your Hollywood adventures a secret, that’s fine with me.”

  The way she straightened her shoulders and left without looking back, I knew there was no way it was fine with her.

  Casey: Get angry. That’s your trigger, right? And take him back with you.

  Adeline: LOL. That would freak him out so much!

  Casey: But he’d have to believe you.

  Adeline: I don’t think I want him to believe me anymore. I’m going to end it tonight. :(

  Casey: Oh, boo. I’m here if you need me.

  A body shifted in beside me and I could tell by the arctic scent of his cologne that it was Austin. I stared at him, anger filling my gut at the bemused expression on his face.

  “Why’d you do it?” I asked.

  “Do what? Kiss you? I think you know the answer to that.”

  “No, why’d you send out that picture?” The kissing picture had circulated widely through the Cambridge High social network, and my only hope was that Nate was unable to get online in Spain to see it. For once I was thankful for his shoddy phone plan.

  “If we break up over it,” I added, “I’ll never forgive you.”

  He looked taken aback. “What are you talking about? What picture?”

  “The one of you kissing me.”

  His eyebrows jumped. “There’s a picture of that? I’d like to see it.”

  “This isn’t funny.” I knew by the smirk on his face that he had seen it.

  “I’d like to correct your description of said picture. You were kissing me.”

  I glared at him. “Semantics. Someone took that picture and posted it.”

  “Obviously, since I was in the picture, I didn’t take it.”

  Obviously. “Who else would have anything to gain by sending that out?”

  “Look, Casey, I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t enjoy the kiss or that my heart would be broken if you and Mackenzie called it quits, but I didn’t arrange for that picture to be taken and I didn’t post it.”

  “If you didn’t, then who did?”

  “I don’t know, but it appears that I’m not the only one interested in seeing you back on the market.”

  I smacked his arm. He laughed. “You’re really cute when you’re angry.” He reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “See ya later, Donovan.”

  When I got home after school, my phone buzzed. A message from an unidentified sender. A photo. Austin and me in the school cafe. He was smiling down at me with his
hand on my shoulder. My eyes were locked on his. You couldn’t see the contempt in them. From this angle, we looked like we were flirting.

  My face flushed with heat. Oh, God. Who was taking these photos?

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Terriers were home late Saturday night and I wasn’t about to wait a moment longer than necessary to see Nate. First thing Sunday morning, I hopped the redline to Boston and practically jogged to the BU campus and to Nate’s dorm. I tried to shake out my nerves on the elevator ride to the fourth floor. I walked quickly to his door, my heart tittering like a frightened mouse in a cage. I pinched my eyes together and knocked.

  The door swung open and an angry-looking Nate stood on the other side. He’d recently showered since his hair was still damp and hung in waves around his face. He held up his phone.

  “Look what I just got,” he said with tight lips.

  I didn’t have to look. I knew. Whoever had just sent me the photo from the cafeteria had sent it to Nate, too.

  “And it’s not the only one.” He swiped his finger across the face of his phone and presented the kissing picture.

  “Nate, let me explain.” I wanted to throw myself at him and kiss him deeply on the lips, but he’d crossed his arms and leaned back against the open door.

  “Please, can we talk?” I asked.

  I could hear movement and turned to see Nate’s two roommates. They threw me tentative chin nods, like they weren’t sure if it was okay for them to greet me.

  Nate grabbed his hoodie. “Let’s take a walk.”

  The energy in the elevator was so tense you’d need a chainsaw to cut through it. Nate wouldn’t even look at me. The bell dinged as the doors opened to the lobby and I followed Nate outside.

  I was tall, but even so I found it hard to keep up with Nate’s long strides. He shoved his fists into the pockets of his hoodie and stared straight ahead.

  “This is all a big mistake,” I said.

  “The pictures look pretty convincing to me.”

  I stopped short. “Yeah? What about the pictures of you and Fiona? Everyone could see that you had hooked up. It was humiliating!”

  Nate stopped finally, at least five feet ahead of me and turned. “Is that why you kissed King? You thought I was making out with Fiona?”

  “No. Maybe. I was vulnerable and Austin…”

  “Don’t go blaming this on King. You only need half a brain to see you were all in on that kiss.”

  “I’d never kissed anyone but you before. He challenged me.”

  “What? You were experimenting?”

  Why was this argument always turned back on to me? “What about Fiona?!”

  “There are no pictures of me kissing Fiona because I never kissed her! That display was all her. She wrapped herself around me, almost pushed me to the ground, and one of her friends took the picture. I extracted myself from her immediately.”

  The pain and anger that pinched Nate’s face frightened me and I was awash anew with regret and shame. I’d jumped to conclusions and did the very thing I’d accused him of. I was the cheater.

  I’d cheated on Nate. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. Austin had been pressuring me all week, and then at the party, he showed me the photos of you and Fiona. He caught me at a weak moment.”

  Nate let out a long breath, and the pain of my betrayal emanated from him like shock waves. I felt my eyes water. “I’m so, so sorry, Nate. I was wrong to doubt you. Just, so much time has gone by since I saw you and then with your phone absence…”

  “It’s not an apology if you make it my fault.”

  Oh, God. I was screwing this up so badly. “It’s not your fault! I know that. It’s mine, all mine. I don’t know what else to say except that I’m sorry.”

  His phone pinged, and he his eyes filled with fury when he checked the screen.

  Whatever it was, it was bad, and I had a sinking feeling it had to do with me.

  “What is it?” I squeaked.

  He turned the screen to me and I gasped. It was a picture of me leaning against Austin on the plane!

  “That’s nothing!” I stammered. “I’d taken sleeping pills and fell asleep. I’m sleeping!”

  “On his shoulder, Casey?”

  “I meant to lean on the window, but the pills kicked in so fast.”

  I felt tears burn behind my eyes. Who was doing this?

  “I promise you, Nate, I didn’t even want to sit next to Austin. And that was on the way there. I double-checked with Mr. Ryerson that I didn’t have a seat next to him on the way back.”

  Nate turned his back to me and started walking. “I need some time.”

  I couldn’t let him leave. My heart pounded. I couldn’t bear to lose him like this. I couldn’t bear not to have him with me, to gaze on his face, even if he was angry and couldn’t stand the sight of me. I skipped ahead and grabbed his hand. “Please, don’t.”

  He didn’t pull away in time. I was hit with a wall of dizziness and a flash of light. Instead of disappearing like it would had we traveled to 1863, the university still existed, only now the buildings had changed in size and position. Instead of horse-and-buggies, Model Ts rumbled down the street beside us, which was unpaved and without sidewalks.

  “Casey?” Nate looked at me with wide questioning eyes. “What’s going on?”

  I swallowed. “It’s been reset.”

  “Reset?”

  “That’s the only way I can explain it.”

  “To what year?” He seemed extraordinarily calm, but I knew him well enough to know that he was managing his anger.

  “1929.”

  He scowled. “How?”

  “Do you remember Adeline?”

  Nate’s eyes flickered. “I’m not sure.”

  “I met her before we started going out officially, at a convenience store near here. I saw her demeanor change in front of me, and she suddenly had dark circles under her eyes.”

  “Right. She was a traveler. Didn’t she move to California?”

  I nodded, and understanding came to Nate’s eyes. “You met her there?”

  “This freaky thing happened where we both tripped at the same time.”

  “Touching each other?” he asked incredulously.

  “We were at a pool party. She’d just fought with her boyfriend, Marco, which triggered her trip, and I…”

  Nate finished for me. “… just kissed Austin King.”

  “I was so upset by it, I ran off without looking where I was going. I ran into Adeline, and we fell into the pool.”

  “And now you trip to the twenties?” His face grew red. “This is terrible, Casey!”

  I agreed, but I tried to soften it with faulty reasoning. “At least I don’t have to worry about the Civil War.”

  “You also don’t have the Watsons! You don’t know Boston in the twenties. You don’t have any friends here to help you!”

  “I know that! You think I don’t know that?”

  We were arguing loudly, and our unconventional dress was garnering unwanted attention. The men were dressed in trousers and overcoats, not low-riding jeans and hoodies. The women wore dresses, fitted jackets and hats over short, bobbed hair. My hair, though pulled back in a ponytail, was a long curly mess and I wore jeans and a pink hoodie.

  Nate took charge. “We have to find a place out of sight to hang out for awhile, until we can figure out our next move.”

  “Where?” I asked, feeling completely out of my element. At least Nate was somewhat familiar with the campus.

  “I think I know where.” He took my hand and I didn’t let go. No matter what happened to us in our present, we needed each other to get back there.

  The campus grounds were sparse in 1929. “I thought Boston U was established in the late 1800s,” I said.

  “It was, but the fire of 1872 forced the relocation to several buildings spread out over town.” He ran a hand through his dark hair as he scanned the landscape.

  Though the campus ground
s were sparse, the city of Boston was not. Cars looked different from modern vehicles, but with narrow roads with rough pavement or old cobblestones, the congestion was just as thick. We headed toward an industrial section nearby and Nate pointed to a warehouse.

  “There,” he said. “That’s a coffee shop and art gallery in our time.”

  A large sign along the front read, “Macmillan Textile Co. Ltd.”

  “It’s a clothing factory,” Nate said. “There are old pictures of this place hanging on the coffee shop walls. Rows of women bent over sewing machines.”

  I pulled on the front door, but it was locked. “It’s closed,” I said.

  “It’s Sunday. Everything will be closed.” He rounded the corner toward the back of the building. I scouted the area to ensure we weren’t spotted, then followed him.

  Nate had to climb onto a large garbage bin to reach the first row of high windows. He pushed against the pane with two palms. “I think I can get this open.” He grunted and the glass slid up, just enough that a narrow body could squeeze through.

  He bent over the bin and reached for my hand and pulled me onto the bin. “I’ll go first,” he said, “so I can help you down.”

  Nate jumped into the darkness, and my heart leaped into my throat. I straddled the windowsill and swung both of my legs inside. Nate reached for my waist and helped me down.

  It was nice. I could’ve hopped to the cement floor on my own, and probably without twisting an ankle, but I was happy to have Nate touch me. He wasn’t warm and affectionate. His aid was purely functionary. I wasn’t sure where we stood anymore, if he still wanted to be my boyfriend. If he even still considered himself my boyfriend. Right now, in this moment, he was all business.

  “I’m hoping there’s some clothing available to us here,” he said.