by Bella Thorne
“So how do I know what to do?” I wail. “This is crazy! And J.J.—I keep making his life worse too. What should I do to make it better?!”
“Think about your dad,” Jenna advises. “He’s the one who gave you the locket, remember? He wouldn’t want to make you crazy, right?”
“No,” I agree, and I smile a little as I recount again his mission for me. “He’d want me to use it to bring peace and harmony to my little corner of the world.”
“Exactly. You make changes to fix what you see in the future; then you jump ahead to make sure you got it right.”
“Eight more times,” I say, and I tell her about the little dial window that numbers the jumps. “But what if I run out of jumps and the future’s still bad?”
“Another gift?” Jenna suggests.
It’s a possibility. My dad has been pretty regular about them so far. But I don’t want to count on it. What I can count on is what I know about my dad. He loves me. He wouldn’t send me on an impossible mission that’ll make me feel hopeless and sad. No matter how hard these futures are to see, I can’t panic over them. I have to think of them as helpful hints—signs about what I need to change today so the bad things don’t happen tomorrow. Like with Sean. In my jump, Reenzie said they airlifted him in from Tallahassee. He’s been saying FSU is his number-one pick for school. The one he’s dying for but isn’t sure he’s a good enough player to get into. Well, I just have to make sure he doesn’t get in. Or if he does get in, that he doesn’t go. He was at a Division Two school and not paralyzed in the first future I saw. That’s the one I need him to get.
As for J.J. and Carrie, I’ve now seen two different miserable futures for them. To save them I clearly have just one choice. I need to break them up. How I’ll do that I have no idea, but three weeks ago I had no idea how I’d break up my mom and her bushy-beard husband, but I managed that, right?
In the meantime, I can keep an eye out to make sure all my friends and family stay on track for their positive futures. Mom using the Catches Falls dogs as hospital therapy animals is genius. If I have to help her come up with the idea, I will. Reenzie seems on track no matter what, so that’s great. I’ll keep an eye out for Drew this year to make sure Tee meets him, and if I have the chance to help Jack feel comfortable telling us the truth, that’s great too. As for Ames, maybe I can work on the drinking thing with her so it never gets really bad.
These are all amazing goals, but I have no idea how to accomplish them until the next week at school. I’m in the Senior Social Committee room, which is really just one of the classrooms we’re allowed to take over each afternoon. Carrie and the seven other girls sit at student desks, and Gus stands at the active board taking notes. I’m sprawled out on the teacher’s desk, stomach down, feet in the air.
“Okay, seriously, ladies,” he snaps at the room. “No one is excited for the Halloween dance. It’s like not a thing, and it needs to be a thing. It needs to be a huge thing.”
“It would help if we did it away from school,” whines Meegan Rudolph. She winds one of her pigtails around a finger. “We’re seniors. We’re done with dances in the gym.”
The pigtails and whining have to go, but Meegan’s totally right. “Maybe we could rent a place,” I say.
“No budget,” Carrie says. “We don’t want to charge too much, and we have to be smart this year so we have enough left over for our prom and the after-prom party. The parents’ fund will help, but we still need money of our own.”
“Then what can we do at the school to make it special?” asks Mariah Amhari.
Mariah fascinates me because she always sits or stands with amazing posture, like a ballerina. Every time I look at her I feel like a hunchback. I never noticed her until J.J. told me she’s his favorite person in the world. I thought he had a crush on her, but he said it’s just because her last name’s an anagram of her first. He likes to call her Harami, another anagram that in his fantasy is her actual middle name. “We’re already making it a costume party.”
“Done to death. We need to do something better.” Then I bolt upright as inspiration strikes. “Like turn the school into a giant haunted house! We’ll theme it like a school from the turn of the century…for kids with ‘special powers’…and as people walk through the rooms we’ll have these tableaux set up with scary lighting and kids getting experimented on…like a walk-through horror movie—”
“Budget,” Carrie says, cutting me off. “And creepy. But mostly budget.”
Gus sighs. “Here’s what I say. If I wasn’t on the Senior Social Committee, the only way you could get me to a school gym dance is if you promise me I’ll find the man of my dreams.”
Everyone murmurs agreement, and even though I know they don’t think they’re being serious, an idea starts to percolate in my head. One that will not only solve the Committee’s problem, but might also change the course of my friends’ futures for the better.
“What if we make it a matchmaking dance?” I ask. “ ‘We’ll match you with someone so perfect, it’s scary.’ ”
“I love it, Autumn!” Swoozie Lyman bubbles. “But how do we do it? Just the ten of us pairing people up together?”
“No way,” I say. “No one would go for that. They’d think we’re messing with them. It has to be all computer. Secure website, questionnaires people fill out, the program matches them up based on interests and things…like a real online dating service, but just for the people coming to the dance.”
Everyone smiles and buzzes, and I’m happy they’re all into it. Only Carrie is frowning, and I’m not surprised when she tells us why.
“What about those of us already with our perfect match?” she asks.
I’m ready for the question.
“Most likely, the computer will pair you up!” I say. “And even if there’s some glitch and it doesn’t, we just make some ground rules. Like…you’re not forced to be with your date—”
“Your Scare Pair!” Swoozie cries.
“Love it!” Gus seconds. “And yes to Autumn. Everyone gets a Scare Pair, but you don’t have to be with them all night. You don’t even get their name until you get to the dance, so no one’s a jerk and doesn’t show if they don’t like the name.”
“The Don’t Be a Jerk rule,” I second. “That’s perfect. No—the Don’t Be a Ghoul rule. And we’ll have one song near the start of the dance that’s specifically for Scare Pairs. It can even be a fast song, so no pressure.”
“Exactly,” Gus agrees. “And in the spirit of Don’t Be a Ghoul, everyone has to dance with their Scare Pair partner for that one song. ’Cause seriously, I don’t care who it is, it won’t kill you. If the pairs want to hang more after, great. If not, they don’t have to. That way we get the singles and we don’t scare away the couples. Carrie?”
Carrie’s lips are scrunched all the way over to one side of her face. “I don’t know…”
Kassie Cooper, one of Carrie’s best friends and who looks almost exactly like a darker-skinned brown-haired Carrie, leans dramatically on Carrie’s desk. “Cair. I get it. I want to scratch out the eyes of any girl who looks at Ty. But even I’m totally cool with him having one fast dance with someone if the computer fixes them up.” Then she smiles. “Plus, I want to know who it’ll give me. Aren’t you a little bit curious? I mean, we’re here for less than a year. Don’t you want to know if there’s someone you overlooked?”
Carrie meets Kassie’s eyes and smiles, then glances nervously at me and shakes it off. “I know there’s no one out there better than J.J.,” she says. “But, yeah, I’m still curious what the computer would say. It’s a good idea, Autumn. It’ll get people to pay for the dance and show.”
“So…how do we make it work?” Mariah asks.
Luckily—and shockingly to me, because she comes off as a complete airhead—Brody LeClair is a complete computer genius. She apparently takes college classes in coding and already has a side business building websites. She knows exactly how to make the program wo
rk and can get questionnaires sent out within the week. If we give people another week to fill them out, we’ll still have time before the dance for the program to do its work and for us to get everything printed out gorgeously for the party itself. We decide that even though it’s a senior event, we’ll open it up to the whole school. Since everyone has to pay ten dollars to submit their questionnaire, we figure the dance will pay for itself, plus make a little money for our class’s prom fund.
When the meeting is over, I corner Brody and strike up a conversation. I need to be close to her. I’m still not sure how I’m going to pull it off, but I do know I’m going to use this dance to save the future. No way will I let Carrie and J.J. get paired together. I’m going to make sure they not only get other people, but also people who will really tempt them. As for Jack, I want the computer to pair him with a guy. I know he won’t ask for it on the questionnaire, but I can pass it off as some kind of computer glitch. But hey, if I choose the guy wisely, maybe it’ll lead to something fantastic!
Brody sends out a teaser email about the Scare Pair dance that night, and by the next morning the whole school’s majorly excited, but probably no one as much as me. I’m the only one who knows how important it really is. I spend the whole week watching Carrie, J.J., and Jack closely, hoping they’ll betray their secret crushes, but I get nowhere. The only guy Carrie talks about is J.J., and J.J. gets glared at if he even thinks about a girl other than Carrie. This time last year he was secretly in love with me, but I don’t think that’s in his head at all. Even if it was, it would get messy. I need his dream girl—someone he’s had a crush on since before I even moved to Aventura. I try asking Amalita about it one day as we walk to class together, but she just gives me the side eye.
“Why?” she asks suspiciously. “You want to fix him up with someone special for the Scare Pair dance?”
I’m shocked that I’m so transparent, but I think I cover well. I drop my jaw and throw out my arms in a scandalized, “Who, me?”
Maybe I don’t cover that well. Ames rolls her eyes. “Dejalo. Leave it alone. The boy has a good thing going. I love you, Autumn, but I don’t want you messing with him again.”
She wouldn’t say that if she’d seen J.J.’s future, but I can’t tell her that. I drop the topic. If I want answers, I need to find them myself. Subtly.
“So, Jack,” I say on Thursday at lunch. “I’m trying to figure out who I want my Scare Pair to be. What do you think?”
“I think I want Jennifer Lawrence, ideally in her Mystique costume,” he says. “Can you make that happen?”
I roll my eyes. “I mean for me. If you were going to choose a good guy—for me, I mean—who would it be?”
Jack scrunches his face. “We don’t choose people. We just answer the questions on the questionnaire.”
“I know, I know,” I say. “I’m just asking. If you were to pick a guy.”
“For you?” Jack asks. “How about Alex Futterman?”
“Alex Futterman hasn’t showered in three years!” I explode.
“Oooh,” Taylor pipes up. “You could get Derek Montzer.”
“Picks his nose, rubs it on desks,” I retort.
“I say Wayne Jarvitz,” J.J. adds. “He’s a hottie.”
“He’s a freshman!” I yell. “He hasn’t hit puberty!”
“You’re getting a jump on the future,” J.J. says.
“How did we start playing this game?” I ask. “I don’t like this game.”
Jack shrugs. “You started it.”
“I think it’s fun,” J.J. adds.
“I hate you all,” I say.
Sean and Reenzie come over, both smiling so hard their faces might break. “Guess what!” Reenzie cries. “Huge news!”
“Huger than Autumn and Wayne Jarvitz?” Jack asks.
Reenzie gets a condescending look on her face that makes me want to vomit. Of course she believes it’s true. “Awwww, are the two of you together? That’s so sweet!”
I roll my eyes. “Yes, it’s very special. What’s your big news?”
“A scout from FSU is coming to Sean’s game tomorrow!!!!” she squeals. “Can you believe it?”
J.J., Carrie, Ames, Jack, and Taylor all smile and congratulate Sean. I try to paint on a smile, but all I can see is him lying in a hospital bed, unable to move.
“My brother had to beg the guy. If David wasn’t an alum, it never would have happened. The coaches there don’t think I have the chops for Division One, but they agreed to check me out. I kind of can’t even believe it. If I got in there…it would be a serious dream come true.”
“Would it, though?” I ask. “I mean, Division One…that’s a lot of pressure, right? Wouldn’t it be more fun to play Division Two…or Five or Six? I mean, that’s easier, and you could probably get a bigger scholarship because you’d be the best guy on the team, right?”
All my friends are staring at me like I’ve sprouted a unicorn horn. Sean was elated a second ago, but now he’s looking down at me, hurt.
“What are you trying to say, Autumn?” he asks. “You don’t think I can handle the pressure?”
I give up. This isn’t the way to change his future. I smile bigger than anyone else did. “Are you kidding? Of course you can handle it! This is perfect and I’m totally excited for you!!!”
Everyone seems to believe me, and soon we’re all congratulating him again and he’s telling us all about his plans to impress the scout, but I’m seriously distracted. At the end of the school day, I tell Carrie I’m sick so I can get out of Senior Social Committee, and I call Jenna while I walk home.
“I need a plan,” I say after I fill her in. “I’ll give you some options, and you say yes or no. Get him on a flight to Canada.”
“I like it,” she says, “but you’d have to knock him out first and he’s too big for you to carry.”
“Ooh, knock him out is good!” I say. “What if I give him sleeping pills before the game? Or I could trip him somewhere that I know he’d fall and smash his head and lose consciousness for a few hours!”
“I thought your purpose was to avoid getting him injured,” she says.
“How do I stop him from getting injured without getting him injured?”
“Get him arrested?” she suggests.
“Yes! That’s a great idea! How do I do that?”
“Autumn, stop, you can’t.”
“Why not?” I ask. “Locking him up would be perfect! Okay, I need a wicked witch and a tower.”
“I’m hanging up now,” Jenna says. “I love you. Good luck.”
When I get inside, I’m surprised to see Mom’s home. I’m even more surprised to see her climbing down from the attic with an armload of old dog beds.
“Mom, wait!” I run to her and take the beds out of her hands. The attic stairs aren’t built-ins. They fold down when you open the door in the back hallway ceiling, so they have no arm rail and they’re very rickety. The few times I went up there, I hated every second.
“Thanks, Autumn,” she says, coming down much more easily now that her arms are empty. “The dogs have been going through our bedding and I knew we had some old Schmidt beds up there.” She folds up the attic stairs and uses the long wooden rod we keep by the washing machine to push the door shut. It creaks closed like the sound of a dungeon door…which makes me think of something.
“Mom?” I ask. “What if you’re up in the attic and the door is closed? Would it just fall open when you step on it?”
“You never want the door closed when you’re up there,” Mom says. “There’s a catch on it so it stays shut. If you’re up there and it’s closed, you’d need someone else to open it from down here.”
“Got it,” I say as the wheels in my brain turn with diabolical brilliance.
Okay, maybe not brilliance. More like complete insanity. But it’s all I’ve got. I just have to make sure there’s a chance it can work.
“It’s great to have you home so early,” I say. “Think you’ll
be home after school tomorrow too?”
Mom makes a sad face. “I’m so sorry, honey. I’m going to be with the contractors at the new location until after dinner tomorrow. Erick has a mall date, and I thought you’d be with your friends watching a football game. Will you be home alone?”
“No!” I assure her. “Totally doing the football thing. Not a problem at all.” I’m glad to know she and Erick will both be out of the house, though. It’ll make my crazy plan much more possible. “Oh, hey,” I add, as if I just thought about it. “Have you ever thought about training the Catches Falls dogs as therapy dogs? Especially the older ones that maybe don’t find homes right away?”
Mom smiles. “It’s so funny you would say that, Autumn. I was actually thinking the same thing. We have so many hospitals and retirement homes in the area, and I think the dogs could really make a difference.”
“You should pursue it,” I say, as if I don’t already know she will.
For the rest of the day and all Friday at school it’s amazing I say anything intelligible, because I’m completely preoccupied with my plan for protecting Sean. I don’t tell Jenna about it because I’m afraid she won’t approve and she’ll try to talk me out of it, but I can’t have that since it’s all I’ve got. I race home the second school is over—no Senior Social Committee on Fridays—and I’m thrilled that Mom’s and Erick’s plans held up and no one’s home. I run to the back hallway, grab the wooden stick by the washing machine, and slide its hook end through the metal loop of the attic door. I pull the door down, then unfold the rickety wooden stairs.
Now for the first hard part. I find Schmidt curled up in his bed by the sliding doors to the pool. He likes feeling the cool glass against his fur while he basks in the warm sun.
“Up we go, Schmidtty,” I say. I bend low and haul the dog into my arms. Schmidt is sixty pounds of unwieldy dog weight that has gone perfectly limp because he has no desire to go anywhere. I can barely straighten my legs while holding him, never mind walk all the way to the back hallway.
