15 Minutes: A YA Time Travel Thriller (Rewind Series)

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15 Minutes: A YA Time Travel Thriller (Rewind Series) Page 4

by Cooper, Jill


  “What?” You would think I had asked her to change a tire. “You must want to talk to him.”

  “I really don’t.” I squeeze my eyes and hope she won’t make a big stink about it.

  “Okay, okay. But you better tell me tomorrow what’s going on with you two. Especially if it’s juicy.”

  Smirking, I close my phone and glance down at the photo album one last time before sliding it under my bed. It bangs into something.

  Curious, I strain my arm under the bed until my fingertips swipe at a hard object. I can barely reach it with my fingertips. If I stretch any further, I fear I will dislocate my arm, but I extend anyway and finally manage to yank it out. It’s a small brown chest with a gold belt around the center, but it’s not locked. The lid swings back, and I see a small book inside. A diary.

  In a flurry, I take it out and flip through the pages. It’s my handwriting, all right. I turn to the last used page. Only two days ago.

  I bought the dress I want for the prom. Dad took me and we had a great time. He even sprang for lunch. It was nice, just being the two of us again. I love having a sister and brother, but I miss when it was just us. Just the two of us.

  Mom’s always at work and I’m used to it. I know her work is important or whatever. She can do what she wants. When she’s home everyone is clamoring for her attention and I blend in with the friggin wallpaper. Maybe she regrets me. Maybe I’m a reminder of her ‘big mistake’ with John Crane.

  Donovan gave me the prettiest necklace. I didn’t realize how he felt about me until I opened that little box. I love him too, and I can’t wait until prom when we'll really be alone.

  But I can barely concentrate. The men following me are getting closer and the plan is shaping up. I hope they don’t suspect what I’m up to. I pray

  I scowl at the pages. “What the hell?” I whisper.

  Chapter Six

  The aroma of bacon and eggs wake me. My usual favorite, but this morning my stomach wants anything but food. My first thought is about my dad. I have traded one parent for another, and the guilt stings like a bee as my alarm clock beeps.

  I take a shower, and the water tickles my back. The pressure is much stronger than in my old apartment. Life should be a lot sweeter now. I have all the perks money can buy. But that doesn’t absolve me of guilt. It intensifies it.

  Mom is alive, and I am thankful one day I will have more memories of her, but Dad is imprisoned. Will I eventually forget the last ten years of memories we’ve built up together? He cared for me when I was sick, and when we needed medicine he scrimped for change and sometimes went hungry so I could be fed. At some point I might wake up, and that sacrifice will mean nothing to me. Maybe I’ll only know him as the one who tried to kill Mom and ruined our happy ever after.

  And apparently men are following me. That or I’m insane. I’m not sure which option sounds scarier. I’ll wait for breakfast to decide.

  My hair towel-dried, I wrap myself in a bathrobe soft as a cloud that wicks the moisture from my body. Poking through my closet, I search for something comfortable but come up almost empty. All the clothes are designer labels, and every purse is Coach. I feel more like a Barbie than a person.

  I grab a pair of jeans to put on, wishing I could wear the work boots I find in the back of the closet, but that'll alert suspicion, so I slip on glistening pink ballet slippers. A navy blue clinging top completes my ensemble. Lara would wear makeup, but I can only bring myself to apply lip gloss. I slip a headband lying on the dresser over my curly locks and head down the stairs.

  Heated conversation between Jax and Mom is coming from the kitchen. Is it about me? I approach the door.

  “It’s research,” Mom says, her voice strained.

  “Dangerous research. You promised me you weren’t going into memory merging. What if something goes wrong?”

  Mom sighs. “We aren’t even into the human study. Only seeing if we can do it with the mice.”

  “If? If? Maybe you should ask yourself if you should. That's the sort of power no human should have, and especially not a corporation.”

  “If it can be harnessed and used to help treat victims—”

  Jax’s voice seethes with anger. “I don’t care what the lofty goals are, Miranda. You need to stop and stop now. Don’t you know what’s at stake?”

  “You have never been through a major trauma. Can you imagine if we could pluck the memory of it from my brain? Lara’s?”

  Jax sighs “Like I didn’t go through it too, right? I didn’t help Lara with nightmares?”

  “Enough!” Mom says, slamming something on the counter. “You’re no longer my boss at work and not here either, so please stop.”

  Pushing open the swinging door, I see the twins are eating cereal and reading comic books at the table. They talk in strained voices, pretending their parents aren’t fighting behind them. Mom and Jax are both at the counter, one putting away dishes and the other pouring coffee, all the while trying hard not to look at each other. They continue glaring at each other out of the corners of their eyes, pretending everything is okay, and I go along with it. I don’t want to be in the middle of their argument, whatever it's about.

  “Hey squirts,” I say to the twins as I reach past Molly to grab an apple from the bowl in the center of the table.

  “Hi, Lara!” they echo, but it's Molly who twists her head to give me a small, forced smile. “We missed you last night at dinner.”

  I shift uncomfortably. “Sorry. I had…an errand. I’m here now.”

  Bustling around, getting ready for the day is Mom, wearing a suit similar to the one from last night.

  I’m reminded of the words from my diary—how bitter and neglected I feel. Did I save her so she could go to work? Earn money? No, I saved her for me. Yes, that’s selfish. But I. Don’t. Care.

  Jax pours a cup of coffee, and they both turn to me at the same time. Shock is on his face, and cream sloshes out of his steaming mug.

  “What?” My eyes dart to each of their faces. “Is there something between my teeth?” I scratch at my front chompers, hunting for a piece of spinach or something.

  Mom walks over. Can she tell something’s different about me? Part of me hopes she can. “Your hair. It’s been so long since you’ve worn it like this.” She strokes one of my ringlets while I struggle for an answer that won’t contradict my previous choices.

  “Decided to try something different. Getting tired of all that effort to get rid of my curls. I thought it looked nice.”

  She smiles and kisses my cheek. “It looks beautiful. I’ll be home late tonight. Don’t wait up.”

  I try to cover my disappointment, but her eyes flicker.

  “Aww, hon.” She reaches out and touches me. “I promise soon we’ll do a girls’ night. Just us.” She fluffs my hair as if this should make me feel better, but it doesn’t.

  What kind of job could be so important? I never asked Dad what she does, and now I wish I had. My eyes divert to the twins eating their breakfast, and I listen to them talking about school. They’re young and impressionable. I bet if I can get them alone, they’ll spill their guts.

  “Remember what I said, Molly. Stay out of my office. There’s things in there you shouldn’t see.”

  Molly nods.

  I wonder where her office is. Probably upstairs somewhere.

  Mom kisses the tops of their heads, grabs her briefcase from the counter, and leaves only her lingering perfume behind.

  Jax drinks his coffee, but his eyes study me rather than the newspaper laid out in front of him. “You better grab your orange from the fridge. Don will be here any minute.”

  Donovan. My stomach rolls with dread. I forgot all about him. What was I going to do? Break up with him? Right before prom?

  I see a plate of nuts on the table and reach for them, but Jax grabs my wrist. “Those are honey roasted. There are some plain ones on the counter.”

  Thankful, I nod. Last time I had something with honey I ended up
in the hospital.

  “C’mon, kids.” Jax picks up the twins' backpacks. “Don’t want to be late for school. See you tonight, Lar.”

  “Bye, Lara!” they chorus and give me hugs.

  I give them a playful smile. “Today we’ll have a special snack and maybe even play a game.”

  Their faces light up.

  I plan to pump them for information before anyone else gets home. I pour myself a cup of black coffee and turn on the television while I drink it. The last thing I want after my previous night is to be alone with my thoughts.

  On the news is a reporter outside of what looks like the Cambridge branch of Rewind. Do they know something is wrong? The words scroll across the bottom, “Breakthrough at US Run Rewind.” Curious, I turn the volume up.

  “For a while, Rewind has been working on a new service, Jim, as you know—the ability to store important memories. Births, weddings, your graduation, anything you want, for a fee. Then you can revisit it virtually, rather than going back in time. It’s cheaper and considered safer because everyone knows there’s always a risk of time travel sickness.”

  “Dangerous stuff. Thank you, Sue. Doesn’t this take away from their model of traveling in time? What if these memories were lost … or stolen?”

  “They have their critics, sure, but listen. Time travel is expensive and scary! Plus it’s highly regulated and each client must go through an extensive vetting process that checks brain function to make sure they can handle reliving time. Now there’s a cheaper—and faster—option.”

  “So far we have only basic information about how they retrieve and store these memories. They would be held here in this highly secure, state-of-the-art facility, which I doubt they’ll let us tour any time soon.” Sue smiles large and plastic like. “Back to you, Jim.”

  I flick the TV off and drain my coffee. When I’ve placed the mug in the sink, a horn honks outside. Grabbing my books, I rush out the door. Donovan is in his convertible with his wrist balanced on the steering wheel. My stomach churns as I slide beside him.

  “Hi.” I can’t believe how shy I sound. What the hell is wrong with me?

  Donovan gives me a small smile, brushing my hair off my forehead. “You look real pretty.”

  A nervous laugh bubbles up. “Thanks.”

  He leans in to kiss me, but I can’t push him away. His eyes close, and mine follow suit. His lips graze mine, making my heart skip a beat. Our kiss deepens, and I slip away, being pulled further into the moment. My body responds as if it knows him, wants him, but my mind shouldn’t.

  I try to think of Rick. I try to remember what we were, but all I can remember is yesterday and how he looks at me now. I’m no one to him. I’m less than that.

  My arms sling over Donovan’s neck, and I relax, leaning back in my seat. His arms hold me, caress me, and part of me feels safe with him.

  My eyes fly open. What am I doing? What am I beginning to feel? My stomach clenches. I feel as if I’m cheating on Rick, but he’s not my boyfriend anymore. Still, I can’t settle how angry I am with myself as Donovan’s lips move down my neck and across my chest.

  Rick was my forever. Now what was I doing? Kissing Donovan because it was expected of me? So what if he’s hot? That never mattered to me before. I need Rick, but how can I convince him he loves me if he doesn’t? He won’t even take me seriously. I take a deep breath and keep myself from pushing Donovan off of me.

  “Missed you last night.” He purrs against my cheek, but I resist the urge to run my fingers through his thick, blond hair.

  “I had a thing. Sorry.” I cross my arms and push a stray hair from my face.

  “Your dad told me. Sounds rough, rock star. I’m sorry.” He sounds sincere as he starts the car.

  So he talks to Jax on the phone about me? It’s enough to make my blood boil. Maybe it was an arranged marriage type of thing. Did our parents know each other? But the words of love I found in my diary seemed real enough. Speechless, I watch him out of the corner of my eye.

  He’s quiet as we drive to school, but his free hand creeps up my thigh. I resist the urge to push it away. Not because I don’t like what he’s doing, but because I do. Chills run all over my body. I wish he would stop. I don’t want Donovan, and I don’t want to want him. I remind myself I’m not in love with him.

  But what if I am? What if I’m beginning to remember that I’m in love with Donovan and not Rick? There’s no right answer.

  We drive into the parking lot. Kids are everywhere, so we have to drive to the back of the lot to find an empty space.

  He turns the engine off and lifts his sunglasses to study me with his sparkling blue eyes. “I’ll walk you to class if you want.”

  I purse my lips. “Sure.”

  His eyebrows furrow. “Some days I can’t read you. You’re chilly, but a few minutes ago you were all into it. And last night you didn’t return my calls. What’s going on?”

  I swallow back some spit. “Just a rough night and morning. I was in the hospital late. Can’t you cut me a little slack?”

  His face shows the hurt of my words, and I wish I weren’t so hard on him. His fingers pull at my curls. As he releases them, he watches them spring back into a coil.

  “I wanted to make sure you were okay. When I heard you were at the hospital, it scared me. I’m glad you’re all right.” He edges closer to me, concern on his face.

  His words soften me, but I still don’t want to kiss him. However, when he leans in, his lips are soft, totally into it, and he massages my arm with his eyes squeezed shut. The passion should be forced; I shouldn’t feel a thing, but I melt in his arms again. I try to remember Rick and how much we mean to each other, but as Donovan’s hand creeps under my shirt, all I can do is quiver against him.

  “We should get to class,” I whisper against his ear to break the trance he has over me. I suddenly realize one of my hands is under his shirt, caressing his chest. He has muscles under there I didn’t realize existed.

  He’s smiling, and his eyes regard me softly. “I’m glad you’re all right.” He gets out and opens the door for me. When he offers me his elbow, I sling my arm through his.

  “Do you remember our first date?” I try to play coy, playing with a ringlet of my hair.

  He smiles. “If you can call it a date, sure. I mean we were ten, and our parents took us to McDonalds, but we sat at our own table while they had coffee.”

  I try to hide my discomfort; that was exactly what Rick and I had done. My life seems to have completely erased him and inserted Donovan in his place.

  “We cooled for a few years. Junior high was our awkward phase, but when I saw you again in high school … ” He leans forward with an I-love-you sparkle in his eyes, and I ache for what I had with Rick. “I knew I had to have you.” Donovan closes his eyes and kisses me.

  I smile at him. “So we’ve been together three years. Time sure does go by fast.”

  “It sure does, and our best years are in front of us.” Donovan kisses my hand as if I'm a princess. “You’ll see.”

  “I know,” I say, but the optimism doesn’t reach my voice. Part of me feels … hopeful. We’re silent the rest of the walk to the school. Once inside, he carries my books to my locker through the dimly lit halls.

  We are both laughing when I see Rick walk by with a group of friends. I used to be among them, but now I’m a poseur dressed in designer clothes. I am with Donovan, the rich snobby type Rick and I made fun of. I’m so mad at myself as my eyes lock with Rick’s, I can barely breathe. Yesterday, I was in love with him, and today I’m making out with Donovan. And it’s not the worst thing ever.

  What’s wrong with me?

  Donovan doesn’t see my anger as he puts my books away. “How about if I take you out for lunch? We could—” He stops as he sees my jaw tightly pressed together. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I snap, yanking my books out of his hands. “ I’m going to be late for class.” I sling my purse over my shoulder and hur
ry down the hall.

  “Lara, wait!” Donovan screams. When I turn back, he is pointing the opposite way. “Class is that way.”

  “Of course it is.” I snort and storm off.

  As I hurry down the hall, something slips out of my notebook. I stop to pick it back up and see it’s a birthday card. I flip it open.

  Happy Birthday, Lara. I know you’re all grown up now, but to me you’ll always be my little girl.

  I don’t even remember where I’m standing until someone touches my shoulder. I turn and see Kristine with her short blonde hair and trendy sunglasses tucked on top of her head.

  “We’re late for English again. How about we go sneak and have a smoke?”

  Smoking? Is there no end to my decadence? “How about we go to English class?”

  She snorts with a roll of her eyes. “Fine.” Pouting, she trudges along beside me with her arms hanging by her sides like rags. She clearly hates English as much as I hate smoking.

  She goes in first and leads me to the back, where we sit together. Mr. Morgan takes attendance while I busy myself with my papers, pretending to be interested. But when he begins his lecture, I take the card out from my book again and inspect every word. The paper stock looks perfect, no finger smudges or crinkles.

  Does that mean I hardly looked at it? Why keep it in my locker then? Maybe I didn’t believe Dad is guilty, or even if I did, maybe I missed him.

  Like I miss Mom.

  I leave as soon as the bell rings and head straight for the office to request another copy of my schedule. Once it’s printed off, I exit back into the hallway and bump into Rick so hard I send both our books flying in all directions.

  “Sorry,” I whisper, cringing.

  We both bend down, so we can separate our books. He quietly hands me my notebook, barely able to look at me. My heart pounds as his brown hair falls over his eyes. In his presence I am myself again. For a brief moment everything makes sense. I am drawn to him and want only to kiss him. I try to forget everything I did with Donovan this morning.

  “Thanks.” I strain to keep my voice normal despite everything being far from it.

 

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