“Who’s to say that version of you will believe me?” I asked. “If I end up in my world at the exact time I was zapped here—after the shooting—I won’t have any proof that I’m telling the truth. You’ll think I’m crazy.”
“You will have proof,” he said. “Because you’ll tell me about the time I realized I had a crush on you.”
“In order to do that, I would have to know the answer.” I smiled, because this was getting more intriguing by the second.
“Right.” He rubbed his forehead. “Annabelle knew. You don’t. Sometimes it’s easy to get the two of you mixed up.”
I didn’t know if he meant that as a good thing or as a bad thing. So I just watched him, waiting for him to continue.
“The answer is in sixth grade, on March fourteenth, during math class,” he said. “We were celebrating pi day, and we had to memorize the number pi. Most people in the class memorized it to the first two digits—3.14—except for the handful who memorized the first four or five. But not you. You memorized it to twenty-five digits and marched up to the front of the room to recite them all. I think even our teacher’s jaw dropped. But then Robby called you a loser for caring so much about homework, and his friends laughed along with him. At first you looked upset, but then you told him that he was just saying that because he was jealous that you were smarter than him. That was the moment I realized you were someone I wanted to know.”
“I can’t believe you remember that.” I laughed, since I could still recite that many digits of pi to this day.
“You impressed me,” he said. “Especially because I’d memorized fifteen digits, but I pretended like I only knew the first few because I didn’t want my friends to make fun of me.”
“I wonder what would have happened if you’d recited them,” I said, even though I knew that I would have noticed Zac in a positive light in that moment, just as he had with me.
So much might have changed if he’d made another decision that day.
“I wish I had,” he said. “But we can’t change the past.”
I shrugged it off, since the possibility of changing the past and the future had become pretty blurry these past few days. “If you wanted to get to know me then, why didn’t you just… talk to me?” I asked instead.
“We were in sixth grade,” he said. “I was young and scared. But I’ve never told anyone that story. So if you end up back in your world, tell it to me. I’ll know you’re telling the truth. And I’ll be there for you—I promise.”
“I trust you.” I said. “But I hope I don’t end up back in my world.”
His jaw tightened, and I feared I said the wrong thing. Because of course he still wanted Annabelle back. Which meant he wanted me to return to where I came from.
I supposed I couldn’t blame him for that.
“I don’t want to take your Annabelle away from you… I know it might have sounded that way, but that’s not what I want,” I explained, needing him to understand. “I just don’t want to go back to a world where my mom’s gone.”
“I know.” He rested his hand on mine. “And while I do hope that you get Annabelle’s memories back, I don’t want you to go back to your world, either.”
“Really?” I tilted my head, confused. “I thought that was exactly what you wanted.”
“I miss her so much that it hurts,” he said. “But I also don’t want to lose what we’ve been through these past few days.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “How can these past few days compare to all the time you spent with Annabelle?”
“Up to this point, everything Annabelle and I have done together has been fun, and we’ve had a blast together,” he said. “Our biggest worry was helping her get her grade up in physics. But these past few days have been the first big serious situation we’ve had to face together, and despite you not remembering our relationship, you still came to me. This week, we’ve had to trust and depend on each other more than ever before. It’s been hard, but it’s also made us stronger. I don’t want to lose that.”
“Wow,” I said, amazed by the intensity of his words. “Are you saying that if I get thrown back into my original world tomorrow night, you’ll miss me?”
“Yeah,” he said. “A few days ago I wouldn’t have believed it—I thought you were an imposter in my girlfriend’s body, and I would have done anything to get you out. But I was wrong. Your soul is the same, but you’re different too. In your world, you’ve been through a lot that Annabelle hasn’t, and you’re stronger from it. More confident. I like that. I like you.”
“Thanks.” My cheeks heated, and I glanced down at my hands, not wanting him to see how much his words affected me. “But there have been a bunch of times this week when I’ve looked at Annabelle’s pictures and wished I could be as happy as her. Even in my happiest moments with Jake, my mom’s death hung over me like a shadow—like a blanket of grief that put a wedge between myself and complete happiness. Losing her broke something in me. I didn’t think I would ever feel whole again.”
“And now you have her back,” he said. “I understand why you want to stay here. You’re probably one of the luckiest people in the world. Scratch that—you’re one of the luckiest people in the universe.”
“Yes.” I chewed on my lip, because that was precisely what was bugging me. “But what if it wasn’t just luck? On Friday night, I was shot. In the head. Immediately afterward, I was zapped here—where my mom is alive—which has been the one wish I wanted to come true with all my heart. I know that I’m lucky. But then I wonder… could it be too much of a coincidence? Could none of this be real?”
“So you think that you’re in some sort of coma?” he asked. “That this—” He motioned around the room. “Is all a dream?”
“I’m not sure.” I thought about the flash of white that I’d seen before coming here. I’d never experienced anything like that in a dream.
But saying the other possibility out loud—that I might have died in my original world—was too scary to bring up.
“This isn’t a dream,” Zac said, and I could tell by his intensity—the strength in his jaw, his clenched fists—that he believed it. “I’m real. You’re real. Annabelle was real. Everyone here is real—we have lives and stories and existences that are more than one person could create in a dream. The multiverse is the only explanation for all of this.” He laughed, running his hand through his hair. “A week ago, I never thought I would say that and actually believe it.”
The doorbell rang before I could respond. I checked my watch—it was too early for Claire or Jake to be here for our meeting. Which meant only one thing.
“Pizza’s here,” Zac said. “You still hungry?”
“I’m always hungry when there’s pizza.” I followed him out of the room and down the stairs to get the door.
Kara lit up when she saw we got pizza, and the three of us sat at the table to eat dinner together, talking and laughing and having a surprisingly normal conversation.
I tried my hardest to live in the moment and enjoy it.
Because depending on what happened tomorrow, every moment until then could potentially be my last.
Friday, October 31
That night, I tossed and turned in my bed, unable to sleep. In less than twenty-four hours, I would be facing the shooter. This day could be my last.
I eventually gave up on attempting to sleep and went downstairs to make pancakes for everyone. If this ended up being my last breakfast with my family, I wanted to make it count.
“What’s the reason for this?” Mom asked, smiling as she stepped into the kitchen.
“I just felt like doing something nice,” I said, making a plate for her and placing it at her seat. “To show you how much I love you.”
“That’s very sweet of you, Annabelle,” she said. “I’m not sure what caused this change in you this past week, but you seem different. More mature. I hope you know how proud I am of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I focused on flippi
ng a pancake, not wanting her to see the tears in my eyes.
We all laughed and joked around through breakfast, and I never wanted it to end. But eventually it did, and soon I was in my car, with Eric in the passenger seat as we pulled up to Danny’s house.
Danny walked out the door dressed differently today. Instead of his typical buttoned up polo, he wore a t-shirt with the name of some video game on it. He got into the car and placed his bag on the seat, although he didn’t say his usual “good morning.”
He must still be upset that I’d forgotten to drive him home yesterday.
“Hey, Danny,” I said, trying to sound casual. “I’m sorry again about yesterday. I promise it won’t happen again.”
“What happened yesterday?” Eric asked, and I realized that amongst all the craziness, I’d forgotten to tell him.
“Annabelle forgot to drive me home,” Danny filled him in. “And my mom was out, so I sat around school waiting for almost an hour.”
“Way to be a flake.” Eric laughed at me.
I frowned, because while it was flaky for me to forget to drive Danny home—I always took him home in my world—it wasn’t that flaky for Annabelle. She usually had dance practice after school. I was just doing Danny a favor this week because I was sitting out of dance practice until I either learned the routines or until Annabelle came back.
“I had some stuff happen with my friends,” I said. “I really am sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“No worries,” Danny said. “It’s fine.”
“Before we get to school, can I look at your math homework?” Eric asked, twisting to face Danny. “Just the last few problems.”
“No,” Danny said, surprising me so much that I nearly jerked the car to a stop. “You can’t.”
“What?” Eric scrunched his forehead, looking genuinely confused. “Is this because Annabelle forgot to pick you up yesterday? Because I had nothing to do with that.”
“It’s because you should do your own homework,” Danny said. “And stop copying off of mine.”
Eric opened his mouth, but closed it without saying anything. I’d rarely seen him speechless.
I pulled into school smiling, proud of Danny for finally sticking up for himself.
Friday, October 31
That night, I took out the white angel costume that I’d found in Annabelle’s closet and laid it on my bed, staring at it and frowning. There were times when I thought Annabelle and I were so different, but there were also moments like these, when I realized that we’d decided to be the same thing for Halloween. Perhaps we really were connected through the universes.
The fluffy halo and wings were identical to the ones I’d worn in my world, but the actual outfit… that was a different story. This was the first time I’d really looked at it, since I’d been so focused on stopping the shooting that I hadn’t thought about what I was going to wear to the dance.
Annabelle had chosen a short, high-waisted skirt and a barely-there bralette. She basically planned on going in her underwear. And while Zac might think I’m more confident than Annabelle, I wasn’t brave enough to wear that out in public.
Luckily, I had a different plan.
I walked to my mom’s room, my stomach twisting the entire time. What if she was gone again—forever? Her being here still felt too good to be true. I worried that each time I saw her—when she said goodbye in the morning before heading to work, or when she said goodnight before going to sleep—would be the last.
A huge part of me wanted to ditch the dance and stay home with her, eating ice cream and talking through movies so much that we completely missed the plot. I didn’t want to spend one second without her.
But if I stayed home with her and then later heard about the shooting—about the people who died—I would never forgive myself for not being there and trying to stop it.
I knocked on her door, smiling when she told me to come in. For the past few months, I’d listened to her voice so many times by replaying family videos, never thinking I would hear her in real life again. It felt like a dream every time she spoke.
I walked inside and found her curling her hair, already in her black dress for tonight. Back in my world, Dad had stayed home every Friday night since the accident. But here, with Mom still alive, they were still going on their Friday date nights.
She glanced at me and put down her curling iron. “Shouldn’t you be dressed and getting ready for the dance?” she asked.
“I was looking at my costume, and something about it didn’t feel right,” I told her, pulling at the sleeves of my bathrobe.
She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “We were at the mall earlier this week, and you waited until now to decide that you don’t like your costume for tonight?”
“I needed more jeans and t-shirts,” I said, since it was true. Annabelle had gotten rid of most of my favorite clothes, and figuring out how to match the skirts, fancy tops, and dresses in her closet was way too much work. It felt good to put away the new clothing—like I was making a place for myself here.
It was like a statement that I was here to stay.
Plus, if Annabelle came back, I liked to think she would be grateful. There had to be a part of her that regretted getting rid of our favorite clothes.
“Well, you don’t have much time, so you’re going to have to find something that you already own,” she said. “Do you want me to come to your room and help?”
“I was thinking that I could borrow something of yours?” I asked, twisting a piece of hair around my finger. “I still want to be an angel, but the wings and halo would look a lot better with that white dress you have.”
“The one I wore to the nurse’s ball last year?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. “That one.”
She looked me over, pressing her lips together and sizing me up. “It might be too big on you, but it won’t hurt to try,” she said.
I almost said that it fit perfectly, but I stopped myself. Because in this world, I’d never worn her dress before, so I wouldn’t know how it fit. Also, Annabelle was thinner and more toned than I was because she was still on the dance team. So my mom might be right.
She went to her closet and found the dress, holding it up and inspecting it. It was pure white, but I remembered the stains of red that had splattered all over it in the shooting. It had been the last thing that I’d been wearing in my original world.
And it had been soaked with Jake’s blood.
“If it’s not your style, I’m sure we can find something in your closet,” she said.
“I love it,” I told her, not wanting her to mistake my pause for not liking the dress. Despite my history with the dress, it was fresh and clean, like a new start. “Can I try it on?”
“Of course.” She handed it to me and I slipped it on, examining it in the mirror. Like she’d predicted, it was loose on me, but other than that, it was exactly how I remembered.
She smiled and walked over to a drawer, pulling out some pins. “A few of these, and it’ll be perfect,” she said, fixing them into place. “There you go.” Her eyes met mine in the mirror, and she smiled, placing her hands on my shoulders. “You look beautiful.”
“Are you sure you don’t mind if I wear it?” I asked.
“Of course I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m happy to let you borrow it. Just make sure not to spill punch on it.”
I shuddered, because when I’d first seen the blood, that was what I’d thought it was. Punch.
“If you’re not sure about lending it to me, I can find something else.” I played with the straps, wondering why I’d thought this was a good idea. This dress brought back too many terrible memories. Maybe wearing it would be bad luck.
But I shook the thought away, refusing to think that anything from my mom could be bad luck. I loved this dress the first time I wore it, and I loved it this time, too. Also, I liked knowing that through everything I would face tonight, a piece of my mom would be there with me.
�
�You’re wearing it tonight,” she said, making one last adjustment. “It looks beautiful on you, and I must say, I prefer it to your original outfit.”
“You didn’t like my original outfit?” I asked, and she nodded, a small smile on her face. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“There are more important battles to fight than one over an outfit for a Halloween dance,” she said. “And if I’d said I didn’t like it, it would have made you more determined to wear it.”
“I’m not that stubborn,” I said, although that wasn’t quite true.
“I never said stubborn.” She smiled at me knowingly in the mirror. “Perhaps persistent would be a better term. But I mean that in only the best way. The most successful people in life always have persistence.”
“Thank you,” I said, turning to face her. “I won’t mess up the dress tonight. I promise.”
Hopefully the more I told myself that, the more I could make it true.
Friday, October 31
This time around, instead of getting ready for the dance with Jake and Marisa, I was getting ready with Claire and Liana. Since Liana was here, I had to pretend like I was excited for the night. But really, I was terrified. So terrified that I was having trouble applying my makeup without my hand shaking.
“We missed you at dance practice this week,” Liana said, carefully applying her gold glitter eyeshadow to complement her Greek goddess outfit. “You’re coming back on Monday, right?”
“That’s the plan.” I tried to sound upbeat and casual, although I felt anything but. Because there were two options about what was going to happen next week. The first was that I stayed in this world, and Claire would have to spend all weekend teaching me the dance routines. The second was that I didn’t stay in this world, in which case, Annabelle would easily slip back into her spot on the team.
I supposed there was also a third option, although I didn’t want to think of it as a true possibility: That I would get shot at the dance and wouldn’t live through tonight, so I would never go to dance practice again.
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