Collide

by Michelle Madow

  “He did,” I said, hating that it was the truth.

  Zac clenched his fists, looking ready to shoot out of his chair and confront Jake that moment.

  But before he could do anything, I held my hand out to stop him. “It’s not what you think,” I said, even though I had no idea what he thought. I just couldn’t have him storming out of there without knowing the facts. “It’s all kind of complicated…”

  And from there, I caught him up on everything.

  Thursday, October 30

  “From what Marisa said, Annabelle knew,” I said after catching Zac up. “Did she ever say anything about it to either of you?”

  “No,” Zac said. “But Annabelle never dated Jake. When we started seeing each other in May, Jake and Marisa were just two people she used to hang out with.”

  “No.” I crossed my arms, refusing to believe it. “They were my best friends for years. There had to be a reason why she stopped hanging out with them. And she was your girlfriend. How could she have never told you this?”

  “I know you can’t believe it, but maybe once Annabelle and I started dating, she wasn’t thinking about Jake and Marisa,” Zac said. “Because she was happy with me.”

  “I’m sorry.” I deflated, guilt twisting in my chest. “I didn’t mean that she wasn’t happy with you… but I also know myself. I would have been upset when I found out about Jake and Marisa.”

  “The beginning of April,” Claire said suddenly.

  “What about it?” I asked.

  “That’s when you stopped hanging out with Jake and Marisa. You told me that you didn’t think we spent enough time with the girls on the dance team, and that you wanted to party with them more often. At first I was confused, because you didn’t care much about partying before then, and I asked if something was wrong. But you said something about us being more than halfway done high school, and not wanting to graduate and regret not getting out there and having more fun.”

  “You believed me?” I asked. “Just like that?”

  “You swore that you meant it,” she said. “And for the most part, we did have a lot of fun.”

  “But I stopped hanging out with Jake and Marisa—two of my best friends—and you didn’t find that strange?”

  “I did at first,” she said, her cheeks turning pink. “I told you that if something had happened, you could talk to me about it, but you promised everything was fine. I didn’t completely believe you, but we were having fun, and I figured you would tell me the truth when you were ready. But then you and Zac started hanging out, and we went to Europe, and your friendship with Jake and Marisa felt like it had been a lifetime ago. I guess you just… moved on.”

  “Except that Annabelle hated Marisa,” I pointed out. “She wouldn’t have said all that stuff about Marisa if she didn’t care.”

  “What are you saying?” Zac asked. “That the entire time Annabelle was with me, she was angry at Marisa because she wanted Jake and Marisa got to him first?”

  “Maybe.” I sighed, since that was what I was thinking, but it would crush Zac to consider it. “I don’t know. All I know is that ditching my friends, partying to ‘live up my high school years,’ getting bad grades, and talking about someone who used to be my best friend behind her back… it’s not me. Something must have happened to make me do all that stuff. Some kind of trigger.”

  “And you think that ‘trigger’ was finding out that Jake and Marisa kissed over spring break.” Zac phrased it as a statement, not a question.

  “The timing makes sense.”

  “Maybe it’s what set everything into motion,” he said. “But even if it did, Claire’s right. Annabelle’s over it. She’s been over it for a while.”

  I pressed my lips together, not buying it. Because if she was truly over it, she wouldn’t have kept Jake’s playlist as her morning alarm. She still cared about him.

  But I couldn’t say that to Zac—I’d already hurt him enough.

  “She might have been,” I said, even though I didn’t believe it. “But what happened between Jake and Marisa happened in my world, too. And he kept it from me for months. Now I’ll never know why. That’s what hurts the most.”

  “So why don’t you ask him?” Zac said.

  I blinked, unsure if I’d heard him right. I must have, because he was watching me, waiting for an answer.

  “I can’t just pop into my old world, and even if I could…” My breath caught as I flashed back to the night of the shooting, the memory of Jake dying in my arms scorched into my mind. “He wouldn’t be there for me to ask.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” Zac said. “Obviously you can’t go back to your old world by choice. Because if you could, then Annabelle could too. And if that were possible, she would be back in a heartbeat.”

  “Hold up.” I paused, trying to make sense of what he’d said. “You think I switched places with Annabelle? That she’s living as me in my world?”

  “Well… yeah.” He shrugged. “Don’t you?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, unable to meet his eyes. “I hope not.”

  “Because you don’t want her to come back?” he asked. “Because you want her life for yourself?”

  I jerked my head up, hating how awful it sounded. But mainly… I hated how he wasn’t wrong. “How could I not want to stay here?” I asked. “My mom’s alive here. Jake’s alive here.”

  “But wouldn’t you feel bad about taking Annabelle’s life?” he shot back at me.

  “She already said that it’s not her choice to stay or go,” Claire interrupted. “You miss Annabelle—we know that. I miss her too. But Anna’s going through enough as it is. Don’t make her feel worse about it, okay?”

  “No—he’s right,” I said. “But when I said ‘I hope not,’ I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “How else could you mean it?” he asked.

  “I meant that I hope Annabelle’s not in my life, because if she is, I can’t imagine what she’s going through,” I told him. “The day my mom died was the worst day of my life. But it’ll be harder for Annabelle. Because if she went there like I came here, she would have just been at the dance when the shooting happened. She would be terrified. Then she would wake up in my world, where my mom’s been dead for months.” I shuddered at how awful that would be—to wake up from a nightmare only to find that you’d landed smack in the middle of another one. “For her, my mom’s death would be fresh. My world would be her own personal hell.”

  “And that version of me wouldn’t even know her,” Zac said. “At least here, you used to be friends with Jake.”

  “Annabelle would be a stranger to the Zac from my world,” I agreed.

  “He wouldn’t be a stranger,” he said. “We’ve been in school together for years. If she came to me for help, I would say yes.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe not. You would be surprised how much people can change in a few months.”

  “You say that because you think you’re so different from Annabelle,” Zac said. “But you’re similar in more ways than you realize. I see her in you all in the time… it makes missing her so much worse. You might be different, but your heart’s the same.”

  “Thank you,” I said, my eyes welling with tears again. “That means a lot.”

  “It’s true.” He watched me closely, and I had a feeling that he was searching for her in me, despite my telling him she wasn’t here. “Which is why you need to talk to Jake.”

  “But my Jake is gone.” I clenched my fists, my voice rising. “Don’t you get it? Even if I could magically zap myself over to my world to talk to him, it wouldn’t matter, because in my world, he died. I might never see him again. So please, stop making me feel worse about it than I already do.”

  “Now you’re misunderstanding me,” he said. “Because I’m not talking about the Jake from your world. I’m talking about the Jake from this one.”

  Thursday, October 27

  “What good would talking to the Jake from this w
orld do?” I asked. “I need to ask him about what he did in my world after the time split. This Jake can’t answer those questions, because he didn’t make those decisions. Only my Jake can.”

  “But you can’t ask your Jake,” Zac said.

  “Wow.” I rolled my eyes. “You realize you’re making this worse by rubbing it in, right?”

  “I think he’s trying to make a point …” Claire said.

  “Really?” I huffed. “Because his ‘point’ sucks.”

  “And you’re acting more and more like Annabelle the more frustrated you get.” Zac smirked. “I kind of like it.”

  “Shut. Up.” I grabbed my bag and stood up. “I’m leaving.”

  “Wait.” He reached for my arm, and his eyes softened. “Can you at least hear me out? I swear I’m trying to help.”

  I stood firm, although I didn’t move his hand away, either. “Talking to this Jake won’t help anything,” I said. “The Jake I need to talk to is in an alternate universe somewhere.”

  Or he’s dead, I thought, although I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud.

  “The first day we all met here in the library, Claire said that no matter what world we’re in, we’re still the same person at our core,” Zac said. “You believe that, right?”

  “Maybe.” I dropped my bag on the floor and sunk back down into my chair. “I’m honestly not sure what I believe anymore.”

  “I believe it,” Claire said. “Annabelle was my best friend, and even though you’re not her, you still are. We’re still best friends.”

  “I believe it too,” Zac said. “And I know you do—it’s why you brought Jake into this. Because even though he’s with Marisa, you trusted him and believed he would be there for you no matter what.”

  “And look how far that got me.” I heard how bitter I sounded, but I was past the point of caring. “I found out that Jake—the person I should have been able to trust above anyone else—lied to me. For months. How can I trust him again?” I looked down at my hands, my heart twisting with how much those words hurt to say.

  “I can’t answer that,” Zac said. “Because you know that I don’t think you belong with Jake. I think you belong with me. Scratch that—I know you belong with me.”

  I took a sharp breath inward, surprised by how much I believed he meant it. “You mean Annabelle,” I reminded him. “Not me.”

  “No.” He scooted his chair closer. “You and Annabelle might be different on the surface, but your heart is still the same. Just like the Jake from your world and the Jake from this world. So if anyone’s going to understand why your Jake did what he did, it would be the Jake here. Sure, it’s not the same as asking the Jake from your world, but given the circumstances, it’s the closest you can get.”

  I was silent for a few seconds, considering it.

  “You’re right,” I finally said. “Although I’m surprised that you’re suggesting I spend more time with Jake. I thought you of all people would want me to stay away from him.”

  “Trust me, I’m not thrilled about it,” he said. “But the sooner you realize that Jake’s not the one for you, the sooner you’ll realize that I am. Or at least you’ll be willing to give me a chance. Because I’ve never lied to you, Anna. And I promise that I never will.”

  He words sent shivers up my spine. Not because of what he said, but because he used my name, not hers. He was finally accepting that I wasn’t Annabelle.

  All this time, I thought he was helping me so he could get her back.

  But maybe I was wrong. Maybe he was helping me because he cared about me—possibly even loved me—no matter what.

  Thursday, October 30

  The entire group—me, Zac, Claire, and Jake—were meeting at Zac’s tonight, but I needed to talk to Jake before then. So after school, once Marisa went to the gym, I caught up with him in the parking lot.

  “Hey.” He smiled as I approached. “I missed you.”

  His words pulled at my heart, because I missed him, too. I missed the relationship I thought we had. The relationship where Jake and I told each other everything.

  I missed something that had never truly existed.

  “What’s wrong?” He frowned and walked forward, closing the space between us. “Is everything okay?”

  “No.” I couldn’t look him in the eye, and I was glad I had my sunglasses on. “We need to talk.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.” He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and shifted his feet. “Is this about the plan for tomorrow night?”

  “It’s about us.” I glanced around the parking lot, aware that anyone walking by could listen to our conversation. “Can we go somewhere else? Someplace private?”

  “Sure,” he said. “My house?”

  I thought of all the times we’d hung out in his house: watching TV in the living room, having meals with his family in the kitchen, but most of all, the time we spent in his room. Doing homework, listening to music together, but most of all, being together. Knowing that no matter what, Jake was my home.

  I couldn’t let this coming conversation ruin those memories forever.

  But I didn’t want to go to my house either. My parents would be home soon, and I didn’t want to deal with their questions. It would be impossible to find anywhere private around school. And his car… well, that hadn’t worked out last time.

  “We could walk to the ice cream place across the street,” he suggested, apparently able to tell from my pause that I didn’t want to go to his house. “You still love the toasted marshmallow flavor, right?”

  I smiled, because I did still love the toasted marshmallow flavor, and I was glad that this version of Jake remembered. But I wouldn’t let the happiness that I always felt around him make me forget about why we needed to have this conversation in the first place.

  He’d kissed Marisa. And kept it from me for months.

  Thinking about it sent another rush of anger through my veins.

  “Too many people go there after school,” I said, despite the fact that ice cream sounded delicious. “How about TooJays? No one we know should be there.”

  “Isn’t the average age in there around seventy?” he asked.

  “More like eighty,” I said. “My grandparents love it there. Which makes it the most uncool place in that entire shopping center. Plus, have you seen their bakery? The desserts are amazing.”

  “Believe it or not, I’ve never been there,” he said. “But if you say so, I trust you. TooJays it is.”

  Thursday, October 30

  We chit chatted until our cheesecake arrived, although since I’d dropped the “we need to talk” bomb, there was a distance between us that hadn’t been there last night.

  He watched me closely as I sunk my fork into the cheesecake, and I took the first bite, savoring it. It was just as delicious as I remembered.

  But we didn’t come here for the food. We came here to talk. Because everything between us had changed, and as much as I didn’t want to face the truth of what I’d learned, I had to.

  “Marisa was waiting at my locker before lunch,” I said. “She knows we were together last night.”

  His eyes widened, his fork dangling above the cheesecake. “No way,” he said. “She acted like everything was normal all day. If she knew… wouldn’t she have said something to me?”

  “Apparently not,” I said. “At first I thought you told her—”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” he said. “You know I wouldn’t.”

  I wanted to say that of course I knew that, because I trusted him more than anyone else. But I couldn’t, because he had lied to me—for months. Who was to say that he wasn’t lying right now?

  I wasn’t sure if I would ever be able to trust him again.

  “Do you have any idea how she found out?” I said instead.

  “No.” He took a bite of cheesecake, his eyes far off. “Unless she didn’t leave my house last night when I thought she did.”

  “Her car wasn’t
in the driveway,” I said. “Trust me, I checked.”

  “If she were spying on me, she wouldn’t have done it from my driveway.”

  I tried to imagine Marisa driving a few houses down, turning off her headlights, and waiting to see if Jake was doing anything suspicious. But I just couldn’t picture it. Marisa wasn’t like that.

  Then again, I also hadn’t thought she was the type of person who would have kissed Jake and then watched us date for months without saying anything. I hadn’t thought either of them could do that to me.

  My hand tightened around my fork, and I took another bite of cheesecake, unable to look Jake in the eye. If I did, I feared I would break down right here, in the middle of the restaurant.

  “You don’t think I told her, do you?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said, my voice catching. “I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

  “Where’s this coming from?” He reached for my hand, but I pulled it away, not wanting to be swayed by my feelings for him. “I thought that after last night, you knew I wouldn’t do that.”

  “You kissed her,” I blurted out. “Over spring break.”

  He scrunched his eyebrows, resting his elbow on the table. “What does that have to do with this?” he asked.

  Until now, I’d been hoping that Marisa had made it up. But now I was positive that it was true. And my heart felt like it was breaking all over again.

  “She wasn’t lying, was she?” I asked. “You two kissed. And you never told me.”

  “But I did tell you,” he said. “You’ve known for months.”

  “No.” I shook my head sadly. “I never knew. Not in my world.”

  “That’s impossible,” he said. “Unless in your world, Marisa never kissed me…”

  “It happened before the time split,” I told him. “During spring break. It happened in my world too.”

  “And today’s the first time you heard about it?”