Collide

by Michelle Madow

I shrugged, unable to think of a reason that would make sense to him about why I was glad to see Blueberry, and pulled up to the house next door.

  Danny came out and settled into the back seat, wearing the same jeans and buttoned up polo shirt that he’d worn the first time I’d lived through this Monday.

  “Good morning,” he said, placing his bag in the seat next to him.

  “Hey, man,” Eric replied. “Can I take a look at your math homework? Those last few problems destroyed me.”

  Danny opened his bag, took out a neat, organized folder, and held out a sheet of paper. Eric took it from him and copied a bunch of his answers. Danny’s eyes shifted down, and as always, he said nothing to stop him.

  It wasn’t right the first time he did it, and it wasn’t right now, either. But unlike last time, now I wanted to speak up. Since I had a do-over—even if it was only in a dream—I might as well do it over right.

  “Why do you copy Danny’s homework?” I asked Eric. “You’re smart enough to do it on your own. Or, if you can’t figure it out, I could help you, or Mom or Dad could.”

  “You would help me with homework?” He laughed. I didn’t know why that was such a crazy idea, but he continued before I could ask. “Danny’s doing the homework either way, so it makes no difference to him. And he doesn’t mind helping me out. Do you, Danny?”

  I looked at Danny in the rearview mirror, trying to will him to stand up for himself.

  He refused to meet my eyes. “I don’t mind,” he said, his voice flat.

  “Good,” Eric said. “Because you’re saving my butt in geometry this year.” Once he was finished, he tossed the crumpled paper back to Danny.

  “Anytime.” Danny frowned and laid the paper on the center console to try flattening it, but just like the first time around, he soon gave up and put it back into his folder.

  I shook my head and looked away from him. I felt bad for him, but at least I’d tried to help.

  I couldn’t make him stand up for himself if he wasn’t ready.

  “You’ll never guess what,” Eric said, twisting around to face Danny. “I’m going with Liana to the Halloween dance. Can you believe it?”

  “Liana?” I choked. “I thought you didn’t know her.”

  “You’re the one who set us up…” He looked at me as if I was missing a few brain cells.

  “Really?” I tightened my grip around the steering wheel, although after thinking about it for a few seconds, I could see how it would make sense. In this dream, I was still on the dance team. Since Liana was also on the team, I must have known her well enough to set her up with my brother.

  “Of course,” I covered for myself, making sure to sound casual. “I just meant that you barely know her.”

  “We’ve been texting,” he said. “We decided we’re going to the dance as pirates. The best part is the sack of gold I get to carry around—”

  “Because you want to fill it up with rum,” I cut him off, finishing his sentence.

  “How’d you know I was about to say that?” He leaned against the window and stared at me, his eyes wide.

  I took a deep breath. I needed to get it together. I was doing a terrible job at the whole “acting normal” thing.

  “Lucky guess,” I said. “It seemed like something you would do. And don’t all pirates carry rum?”

  “Yeah…” He shifted in his seat. “Anyway… Danny,” he said, twisting around to face the back seat. “Are you going with anyone to the dance?”

  “No,” he said. “I probably won’t go. There’s no point.”

  “The point is to dress up!” Eric said. “Come on, man. At least ask someone. What’s the worst that can happen?”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Danny cleared his throat, and my heart dropped down to my stomach.

  Please don’t do it, please don’t do it, please don’t do it…

  “Annabelle, what do you think about going with me to the dance?”

  I pressed my lips together, staring straight ahead. Last time, I’d had an easy excuse for turning down his invitation—I was going with Jake. But this version of myself hadn’t talked to Jake in months, let alone was going to a dance with him.

  I’d also been under the impression last time that Danny hadn’t been serious about asking me, since he knew Jake and I were together. But now… did he really think I would say yes? I felt bad for him, since he would ultimately end up going by himself, but I was a senior. I couldn’t go to the dance with a sophomore.

  Especially since I still planned on going with Jake.

  “Seriously?” Eric laughed. “You know she’s going with Zac.”

  “Zac?” I nearly sped through a stop sign, but I slammed the brakes just in time. “You mean Zac Michaels?”

  “Yeah…” Eric said. “Your boyfriend?”

  I opened my mouth, ready to deny it, but stopped myself. “What?” I said instead.

  “Unless you got in a fight this weekend?” He watched me, completely serious. “You are still going with him to the dance, right?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I mean, I don’t know.”

  “Huh.” He scratched his eyebrow. “Is that why you didn’t get dressed up for school today? You and Zac broke up?”

  “No.” It came out sharper than intended, and I let out a long breath to relax. “It’s complicated, okay? I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Oookay.” He rolled his eyes and stared out the window. “Sorry I asked.”

  No one said anything else for the rest of the car ride, and I pulled up to school in a daze. How was I dating Zac Michaels? Even when I was on the dance team, it was because I loved to dance—not for the social scene. Claire was the only person on the team I would have called a true friend. Besides her, I’d spent most of my time with Jake and Marisa. Zac and I had never had a conversation, other than during that one lab we worked on together last year.

  But apparently, in this dream world, I was dating him.

  Why would I have a dream that I was dating Zac Michaels? And what was I supposed to say when I saw him today? Zac might be a part of “Annabelle’s” life, but he wasn’t a part of mine. He would know in an instant that something wasn’t right.

  There was only one solution—I had to break up with him.

  I just had no idea how to do that when I had no memories of us being together at all.

  Monday, October 27

  When I walked into school, my hands were clammy, my heart raced a million miles per minute, and I gripped the strap of my bag like it was a lifeline. I stared blankly around the hall, unsure where to go. This version of myself didn’t sit with Jake in the courtyard every morning, and I couldn’t go there now, because Zac hangs out in the courtyard before school too.

  The last thing I wanted was to see Zac.

  So I did the only thing I could think of—I went to the AP physics classroom and plopped into my usual seat in the front row. I was the only one there, so I took out my phone. I hadn’t looked at it since before breakfast, and I dreaded what texts I would find.

  There were two. One was from Zac—there was a heart emoji next to his name—and one was from Claire.

  Wanting to get it over with, I clicked Zac’s first.

  Running late for school this morning? ;)

  I didn’t reply, since what could I possibly say to him? But I did scroll up through our previous conversations to see what we’d talked about. Apparently we’d gone to the beach yesterday. Earlier that weekend, we’d had a long, flirty conversation about a party we were going to Saturday night. There were lots of hearts involved, but neither of us ever said we loved each other. This was the closest it got:

  Me: You’re my favorite <3

  Zac: You’re MY favorite ;)

  Me: xoxoxoxoxoxo

  Zac: xoxoxo times infinity

  I tried to picture Zac being that mushy, but I couldn’t. He’d never struck me as that type of guy.

  Next I read the text from Claire.

  Where a
re you??

  I paused, staring at the words. What could I say that would sound normal?

  I couldn’t think of anything, so I clicked out of the text.

  But I couldn’t put the phone away. Because as time passed, I was getting more and more panicked. And what if Claire could help me? She must still be my best friend here. Things between me and Jake were obviously shaky, and since I had no recent texts with Marisa, I guessed this version of me wasn’t friends with her anymore either. And after reading my texts with Zac, I suspected that breaking up with him was going to be more complicated than I’d anticipated.

  I played with my Eiffel Tower necklace, which I’d been wearing when I woke up. Touching it reminded me that Claire and I used to be best friends. And dream or not, I couldn’t get through this without someone on my side—someone who knew who I used to be, and who knew the person I’d become here.

  Family didn’t count, since they would think I was sick or insane. But Claire fit that requirement. In fact, she might be the only person here who I could trust.

  I re-opened my texts with her and typed, I got to class early. Don’t tell anyone. Can you meet me here so we can talk alone?

  Then I pressed send.

  Monday, October 27

  “Annabelle!” Claire said, rushing into the classroom. She wore a typical Claire outfit—jean shorts, a pink tank top that showed a sliver of skin on her stomach, and full-out makeup. “Is everything okay?” she asked. “Did something happen? And why are you sitting in the front?”

  “I don’t know.” I looked around, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “Where do I normally sit?”

  “Back here.” She motioned to the back row, sat down, and patted the seat next to hers. “Come on. The girl who normally sits there will freak out if you take her seat.”

  I didn’t want to give up my front row seat, but in the effort of not making everything more complicated than it had to be, I got up and joined Claire in the back row.

  “You look tired,” she observed.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that a nice way of telling someone they look like crap?”

  “Maybe.” She smiled. “But you really do look tired. What’s going on? Did you sleep through your alarm this morning?”

  “Bad dreams last night.” I pushed my fingers through my hair, since that hardly described the terrible nightmare. “I barely slept.”

  “You’re not worried about that test, are you?” she asked. “You said you thought you did well?”

  “I know I did well.” I brushed the question off, since the test was the last thing on my mind. “It’s just been a strange morning.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean…” I paused, watching as two students walked in and sat down. What was I thinking by bringing this up here? And what exactly was I supposed to tell her? Why would she believe me?

  If the situation was reversed, I would want to believe her… but I don’t know if I would be able to. Not without proof. And what proof did I have?

  “I don’t know,” I said, sinking back into my chair. “I guess you’re right. I’m just worried about the test.”

  “You’ll do fine,” she said, and then she launched into talking about some party we’d gone to on Saturday night. I unpacked my stuff, not really listening, and chewed on the end of my pencil. The seat next to me was empty, and my stomach twisted about how Zac would probably take it. Hopefully he wouldn’t be all touchy-feely with me. If he was, I had no idea how I would react. Probably not well.

  But I couldn’t break up with him before class started, so I would have to be friendly.

  After class I would tell him that we had to talk later.

  I could do this. I had to do this. Annabelle might seem like a stranger, but she was still me. And I was meant to be with Jake, no matter what.

  I sat back and breathed steady, set in my decision.

  But then Jake walked through the door… hand in hand with Marisa.

  Monday, October 27

  Why was he holding her hand? And why was her arm covered with my bracelets? The ones Jake made for me at summer camp. The ones that said love, and beautiful, and forever. She was wearing them as if they belonged to her.

  As if he belonged to her.

  I stared at them, my hands splayed across my desk as they walked to the second row and sat down. He touched her hair, pushed a curl behind her ear, and whispered something to her. She was thinner than ever—she was practically glowing—and she smiled at him, whispering something in response.

  Neither of them looked at me. It was as if I didn’t exist.

  I shouldn’t have come to school today. I wanted to go back home and spend the day with my mom, like I should have from the start. She was the only good thing about this dream. Everything else about it could go to hell.

  “Annabelle?” Claire asked, waving her hand in front of my eyes. “Are you okay?”

  I shook my head, unable to look away from Jake and Marisa. But I had to stop staring at them, so I forced myself to turn away and focus on Claire.

  “You look like you just saw a ghost,” she said. “What’s wrong?”

  “Jake and Marisa,” I finally said, soft enough so only she could hear. “How long have they been… together?”

  “A few months?” She said it as a question.

  “When did they become official?”

  “Around the end of last school year,” she said. “But you already know this.”

  “They started dating last school year,” I repeated, speaking to myself more than to Claire. “And then Marisa worked with Jake as a camp counselor over the summer, didn’t she?”

  “Yeah,” Claire said. “They were counselors together in the middle of nowhere while we were having the time of our lives in Europe.” She winked, as if there was some inside joke I should be part of. “But enough about that. Zac’s here.”

  Zac strolled inside, a huge grin on his face when his eyes met mine, and he plopped into the seat next to me. “Hey there.” He sounded so calm and natural, as if we talked every day. Which I supposed, to him, we did.

  “Hey,” I mumbled, since I had to say something.

  “Where were you all morning?” he asked. “I texted you, but then first bell rang, so I figured you were here already…”

  “I got to class early to catch up on homework,” I said the first excuse that popped into my mind. “I was so focused that I didn’t look at my phone. Sorry.”

  “No prob,” he said. “I’m glad you’re starting to care more about school again.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked, startled. I’d always cared about school.

  “Well, you know…” He ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. “We’ve been having an awesome senior year so far, but you said yourself that you felt bad about not working as hard as you used to.”

  “Of course I want to do well.” I sat straighter. “I have to be on the right track for Cornell.”

  “Cornell?” He tilted his head. “When did you decide you wanted to go there?”

  I waited for him to laugh, or do something to show me he was being sarcastic. Because Cornell was all I’d thought about for months. I’d wanted to go there since…

  I’d wanted to go there since my mom died.

  Her death had fueled me to want to get out of the state—to go to her alma mater and learn in the same place where she’d lived for all those years.

  But here, she was still alive.

  Which meant I never realized I wanted to go to Cornell.

  Luckily I didn’t have to explain this all to Zac, because Ms. Bunnell walked into the classroom and the chattering stopped. She opened her desk drawer and pulled out a stack of papers.

  “I’ll be handing back your tests so we can go over them,” she said, clutching them to her chest. “Remember, while this test will have an impact on your final grade, it certainly won’t determine it. So don’t panic if you didn’t do as well as expected.”

  As I watched Ms
. Bunnell holding the tests, listening to her repeat the same thing she’d said the first time I’d lived through this day, I realized that while my life here was different, for most people nothing seemed to have changed. A few people were in different seats—probably due to Jake and Marisa being in the second row, and me being in the last—but most were in the same place. Even Robby was next to Claire, although they hadn’t said a word to each other since he’d rushed in right before the bell.

  Ms. Bunnell handed the tests back to everyone in the front, and I watched as Jake and Marisa received theirs. I couldn’t make out their grades, but he gave her a high five.

  They obviously both did well. They’d probably studied together.

  My heart sunk from thinking about it.

  When Ms. Bunnell made it to the back row, she placed my test facedown on my desk, not saying a word. Last time, she’d specifically told me “great job.” Now, I might as well have been invisible.

  She moved on, placed the next test on Zac’s desk, and told him good job.

  Had she done that last time? I couldn’t remember. When the back row had been getting their tests back, I’d already been flipping through mine to see everything I’d done right.

  “Thanks, Ms. Bunnell,” Zac said, and she smiled at him before moving along. “We’ll turn our tests over on three?” he asked me.

  “Yeah.” I tried to push down the ominous feeling creeping up my throat. “On three.”

  “One… two… three.”

  We flipped them over.

  He got a 105.

  I got an 88.

  The B+ stared back at me, and I yanked my hand off the test, as if the paper were laced with poison. It said “Annabelle Reynolds” in the space for my name… but it couldn’t be mine.

  Zac glanced at my grade. “Good job,” he said.

  “I got a B+,” I deadpanned. “That’s not good. I was supposed to get a 104.”

  “What are you talking about?” He reached for my hand, but I pulled away, and he frowned. “Is everything okay?”

  “No.” I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers against my lids. Maybe I could control this dream—if this even was a dream—and will my grade to change to a 104.