Collide

by Michelle Madow

  Hope surged in my chest, and I leaned forward. “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “You’ve changed.” He placed the sunglasses down, his gaze locked on mine. “When you texted me on Monday morning with the song from your alarm, I thought you were playing some kind of joke on me. But then you came into school looking like… well, like you did before. Like last year, before you went to Europe with Claire, and before you started dating Zac. Like the Anna who used to be my best friend.”

  “Because that’s who I am.” I sat forward, keeping my eyes locked on his. “I never stopped being that person. Not in my world.”

  He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. I could tell he was thinking hard, and I could barely breathe, afraid that anything I said would mess this up.

  “I believe you,” he finally said.

  “You do?”

  “Yes,” he said. “You wouldn’t make this up. It sounds insane, but I believe you.”

  “You have no idea how badly I needed to hear that.” Hope surged through my chest, my eyes filling with tears. This Jake might not be my Jake, but he could be. I could fix whatever went wrong between us in this world. We could be together again.

  “I have so many questions,” he started. “About us, and about what happened to your mom.”

  My throat tightened at the thought of my mom—and how grateful I was that she was alive in this world. I’d been savoring every moment with her since waking up here.

  “I want to tell you everything,” I said, glancing at my watch. “But I have to be home soon, and we only have two more days until the shooter strikes, so we need to focus on that right now. You’re going to help us stop it, right?”

  “Us?” he asked. “Who else knows?”

  “Me, Claire, and Zac,” I said. “We came up with a plan last night. But we need your help for it to work.”

  “Then tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.”

  “As easy as that?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Why are you so surprised?”

  “Because…” I paused, the words stuck in my throat. “I thought you hated me. Well, not me, but the version of me in this world. Annabelle.” Realizing that he might not understand what I meant, I added, “In my world, I never switched to going by my full name. So when I’m talking with Claire and Zac, we refer to the version of me from this world as Annabelle, and me as Anna. It makes things less confusing.”

  “Got it.” He smiled. “I like thinking of you as Anna again. I missed you.”

  “And you hated Annabelle.” I said it as a statement, not a question.

  “I didn’t like who you’d become, but I didn’t hate you,” he said. “It would be impossible for me to hate you—any version of you.”

  “But the way you looked at me in the car yesterday…” I paused, lowering my eyes at the memory. “I’ve never seen you look at me like that. Like you wanted nothing to do with me.”

  “You’ve given me reasons to look at you like that,” he said.

  “Not me,” I reminded him. “Annabelle. She’s not me. I haven’t been her since March.”

  “You really don’t remember anything from the past few months?”

  “I don’t remember anything that happened to Annabelle after the last day of spring break,” I said. “I’m in her body, but she’s a stranger to me.”

  “Okay,” he said, so simple and trusting. So Jake. “It’s a lot to take in, but I believe you.”

  “Thanks.” I smiled. “That means a lot.”

  “But just like you’re not the Annabelle from this world, I’m not the Jake from your world,” he said, the reminder a punch to the gut. “We have a lot to catch up on. But you have curfew, so we need to talk about this Friday night.”

  “Right.” I straightened and refocused. Because as much as I wanted to figure out who Jake had become in this world—mainly, why he’d started dating Marisa and if he loved her as much as the version of him in my world loved me—saving our lives and the lives of anyone else at risk from the shooter was more important.

  “So, here’s our plan so far…” I began, and from there, I explained what we’d come up with last night.

  Wednesday, October 29

  “It’s risky,” he said once I finished. “But not impossible.”

  “So you’re in?”

  “You’re doing this whether I’m in or not, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I am.”

  “Then I’m in.” He stood up and joined me on the bed. He left space between us, and I didn’t move closer because I didn’t want to push things too fast. “But Anna,” he said, and my heart leaped at his use of my nickname. “I wouldn’t blame you if you stayed home on Friday night—and if you made sure everyone you care about stays home too. It’s the only way we can definitely be safe.”

  “Not going to the dance was my first instinct too,” I said. “But what if Zac’s right, and the shooter targeted us specifically? Then there’s nothing to stop them from putting off the attack and doing it on Monday at school instead, or at any other time when we’re unaware that it’s coming. At least this way we can be a step ahead.”

  “And what if Zac’s wrong?” he asked. “What if whoever it is will snap on Friday night no matter what, and we were just unlucky enough to be in their path?”

  “Then if we’re not there on Friday night, others will be unlucky, and they’ll die because I wasn’t brave enough to stop it.” I paused, recalling everything that had happened to me over the past few days. “I’m not sure why I woke up in this world, but I don’t think it’s random,” I said. “I’m here for a reason—I have to be.”

  “And you think that reason is to stop the shooting?”

  “Yes.” I nodded. “I do.”

  I hadn’t realized how much I believed it until saying it out loud.

  “Do you think you’ll still be you?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “After we stop the shooter,” he said. “If you’re right, and you’re here to change what’s going to happen on Friday night, do you think you’ll stay here when we’re done? Or will Annabelle come back and replace you?”

  “I wish I knew.” I shrugged. “I want to stay here, where my mom’s alive. But I wasn’t given a choice to come here or not, so I’m not sure if I’ll have a choice to stay, either.”

  “If you have a choice, what will you do?” he asked. “Will you stay?”

  “Of course.” I didn’t need to think about my answer. “In a heartbeat.”

  “Good,” he said. “Because I want you to stay, too.” He held my gaze, and I yearned to reach for him, to hold his hand and let him know how much his words meant to me.

  But when I did that in the car yesterday, it messed everything up. And I refused to make the same mistake twice.

  “I guess that’s a compliment?” I said instead, forcing a small smile. “That you like me better than Annabelle?”

  “Of course I do.” He sounded shocked that I would think differently. “You’re the Anna I remember. The Anna who was my best friend.”

  My heart warmed. I wanted to say so much to him. I wanted to tell him that what existed between us was more than being best friends—that we loved each other and were meant to be together, no matter what world we were in.

  But before I could, my phone buzzed with a text. My mom.

  When do you plan on being home?

  “Crap,” I said. “I’m late for curfew.”

  “But there’s so much more I want to ask you…” He trailed off, his eyes full of questions.

  “And there’s so much more I want to tell you.” My hand hovered near his, but I reached for my phone instead. “But I can’t upset my mom. I just got her back.”

  “I know.” He stood up, breaking the connection between us. “Text me when you get back?”

  “Okay.” I gathered my things and followed him downstairs, stopping before he could open the front door. “Jake?” I asked, not wanting him to doubt
how much this meant to me. I wasn’t sure if we would get to have a moment like this again.

  “Yeah?” He gazed down at me, waiting.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “So many things,” I said, my chest full with the relief of being able to talk with him again. “For believing me. For letting me come over tonight. For not thinking that I’m crazy. For agreeing to help on Friday.”

  “Of course.” He kept his eyes on mine, and I wished I could stay here forever, with him looking at me like that. Like he could love me again. “If I didn’t help, and if people died because of something we might have been able to stop, I would never be able to forgive myself.”

  “The plan will work,” I assured him, for my benefit as much as his. “It has to work.”

  “I hope so.” He reached forward to brush a strand of hair off my face, and I stilled at his touch, my heart pounding. “I know you said that you’re the same Anna who was my best friend last year, but I don’t think you are,” he said.

  “I am the same.” I took a step back, my heart breaking all over again. “What more do I have to say to get you to believe me?”

  “You didn’t let me finish,” he said, the intensity not leaving his eyes. “You’re not the same because since March, you’ve become so strong. You’re stronger and braver than you ever were before.”

  “No, I’m not.” I shook my head, my eyes filling with tears. “I’m trying to be, because I don’t have much else of a choice and I want to do the right thing. But I’m terrified.”

  “You always have a choice,” he said. “Don’t forget that. No matter what.”

  We stayed like that for a few seconds, neither of us moving toward the door. His house was quiet—everyone else must have already gone to bed—and moonlight streamed through the window. He leaned closer, and I parted my lips, longing to feel them against his. In that moment, I could have sworn that he wanted me, too.

  Then my cell buzzed again, and he pulled away.

  “We won’t be able to do this on Friday if you’re grounded for missing curfew.” He stepped aside and opened the door. “Goodnight, Anna. Drive safe.”

  I said goodnight and stepped outside, despite every cell in my body wanting to stay. Because he was right—being grounded would complicate everything on Friday. I also couldn’t bear the thought of making my mom mad at me. Not when I’d just gotten her back.

  Especially since now I felt confident that I would soon have Jake back, too.

  Thursday, October 30

  I pressed the home button on my phone, the screen lighting up my room. 1:04 AM. I’d gotten in bed around midnight, and had yet to fall asleep. The shooting kept replaying in my mind—the shots echoing through the gym, the blood staining my dress, and the hopelessness when I couldn’t save Jake.

  What if, come Friday night, I couldn’t stop the shooting? Then Jake would die. I might die, too.

  Which led to the most confusing question—how had I gotten here in the first place? The final shot I’d heard, and then the pain in my head… I couldn’t shake the feeling that they were connected. And as far as I was aware, people didn’t survive being shot in the head.

  I wanted to enjoy being where my mom and Jake were alive. But I wouldn’t be able to until I woke up on Saturday morning with this nightmare behind me.

  And when I woke up, I wanted it to be in this world. Because now that I was here, I never wanted to leave.

  I lay there for a while longer—I wasn’t sure how much time passed—lost in my thoughts. How was I supposed to sleep with so much fear and uncertainty weighing down on me?

  Then my phone lit up with a text. It was from Jake.

  You awake?

  The text was so simple, and so Jake. After my mom passed away, on the days that were the worst and he knew I was having trouble sleeping, he would text me just like this.

  But this was the first time that this version of Jake sent me a post midnight text on a school night. Which renewed my hope that once this week was over, we could start fresh and get back what we had. We would make new memories—together.

  Yeah, I texted back. I can’t sleep.

  Me either. I keep thinking about everything we talked about tonight.

  My heart stopped in my throat. Had he changed his mind about wanting to help? If so, it would crush me.

  About which part? I asked.

  I was thinking about us.

  Seeing that made me smile.

  Me too, I replied. I miss you.

  I stared at the phone, my stomach somersaulting when he didn’t write back immediately. I wished I could take back what I’d sent. We’d come so far tonight. I didn’t want one text message to mess that up.

  Finally, my phone buzzed with a response.

  I don’t want to talk about this over text… any chance that you can sneak out?

  I glanced at my door. The house was silent—Mom, Dad, and Eric had already gone to bed. No one would notice if I left.

  I’d only snuck out twice before—both times to go to parties with Claire. I’d been terrified that I would get caught. But I knew I probably wouldn’t. My parents didn’t use the alarm because we lived in a gated community, and their room was far enough away that they wouldn’t hear me leave. Eric’s room was across from mine, but he slept through everything, including thunderstorms and even a hurricane.

  I think I can manage it… but just this once. I pressed send without giving myself time to take it back.

  I’ll be there in ten minutes, he replied.

  My heart fluttered at the thought of sneaking out to see Jake. It reminded me of camp, when we’d left our cabins after lights out to go to the docks. We loved the peacefulness of the night, sitting under the stars when everyone else was asleep. Those nights together had been some of my most treasured memories of the summer.

  I called the gate to give the security guard permission to let Jake through when he arrived, only to be told that Jake was on the permanent list. Apparently, even though Annabelle wasn’t friends with Jake anymore, she hadn’t removed him from the list. I smiled at that, because it meant she hadn’t dismissed him as easily as Claire and Zac seemed to believe.

  I didn’t know what she was hiding from them, but I would figure it out eventually.

  For now, all I cared about was seeing Jake.

  Thursday, October 30

  I thought I was home free until I stepped downstairs and saw a light on in the library. I froze and held my breath, trying not to make a sound. Mom and Dad went to bed before midnight on weekdays. Maybe they’d left the light on accidentally?

  If that were the case, I could still easily sneak out and meet Jake. And if one of them were awake, I could say that I couldn’t sleep and was grabbing a snack. They would have no reason to doubt me.

  But then I would have to find another way to sneak out. Because I needed to see Jake tonight.

  I crept around the corner, and it wasn’t Mom or Dad in the library—it was Eric. He was crouched down, opening a drawer in the lower bookshelf.

  I only made it a few steps before he heard me and turned around.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, moving away from the shelves.

  “I think the better question is what are you doing?” I asked. “Why are you snooping through Dad’s stuff?”

  He swallowed and glanced around. “I’m trying to find those mini bottles of rum,” he finally said, smiling sheepishly. “For the dance.”

  “But you’re not supposed to look for those until Friday night,” I said. “When I’m getting ready.”

  “Why would I wait until right before we leave?” He furrowed his eyebrows. “Liana will be here, and Mom and Dad will probably hover around us until we leave.”

  He watched me closer, and I realized I’d slipped. I thought he would take the rum on Friday night because in my world, I’d walked in on him searching for it then in the kitchen. But here, that hadn’t happened yet. And apparently, because Liana would now be
here that night, it wasn’t going to happen that way.

  But I couldn’t tell him that, because I refused to bring Eric into this mess. I didn’t want him going to the dance at all. I wanted him to stay home that night, safe. And I had a plan to make that happen.

  But for my plan to work, I needed him to find that rum.

  “Fair point,” I said, trying to sound casual. “And just so you know—those mini bottles of rum are in the kitchen, not the library. In the cabinet above the fridge.”

  “I would have figured that out.” He repositioned something in one of the shelves and stood up. “What are you doing down here, anyway? Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

  “I was just getting a snack,” I said.

  “You’re not sneaking out, are you?” He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you only did that on weekends.”

  “I’ve only done it twice,” I said.

  “Twice?” He scoffed. “Come on. You’ve snuck out way more than that.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but then I stopped myself. Because while I’d only snuck out twice, it didn’t mean that was true for Annabelle.

  “I just need to talk to someone,” I said. “I’m not going far. I’m meeting him in the park.”

  “Him?” Eric asked. “You mean Zac?”

  “No.” I clutched my phone tighter. This was taking longer than anticipated—I didn’t want Jake to get here and think I’d deserted him. What if he gave up on me and left?

  “Ohhh.” Eric waggled his eyebrows. “This is getting better by the second.”

  I rolled my eyes. “If you must know, it’s Jake,” I said, hoping that would be enough to make him leave it alone.

  “Weren’t you just at his house tonight?”

  I placed my hands on my hips and sighed. The longer we stayed down here talking, the more likely it was that I would get caught. “How about this,” I said. “You don’t say anything about my sneaking out, and I won’t tell Mom and Dad about you snooping around to find their rum.”