Class of 1983: A Young Adult Time Travel Romance

by Victoria Maxwell

  “Can she change it?” Jack asked firmly.

  Magz looked up expectantly.

  “Can she stop him from dying?” Jack asked again.

  Janet sighed. “Some things can change, some things can't.

  “What the hell does that mean?” Jack demanded.

  “Fate is flexible, but there are some fixed points. Some things are destined to happen no matter what choices you make.”

  “Why did you send me there?” Magz sobbed, “only to have me fall in love with someone that was going to die?”

  A silence fell in the room.

  In love.

  “Everything happens for a reason,” Janet said. The bell rang, and the classroom began to buzz with students who paid no attention to the three of them stood standing there hopeless. “Even if we don't know what it is yet.” Janet finished.

  “No offence but that kind of sounds like crap,” said Jack.

  “I just want to get back,” Magz said shaking her head.

  “Stay for the lesson, we’ll talk at break,” Mrs. Willis said.

  “What for? So you can tell me more lies?” Magz asked.

  “Please stay Magz,” said Jack. “Just for today?” He picked her books up from the table. It was the last thing she wanted, but her brain was exhausted and all she could do was follow him to their seats.

  “Well, look who’s back on the planet,” said Mindy, looking menacingly at Peggy. “What’s wrong with your uniform? Did you get it at a thrift store or something?”

  “Shut up Mindy,” said Jack.

  “You shut up,” said Jim quietly as he sat down at his usual seat.

  Magz rolled her eyes. “Seriously Mindy, what's your damage?” she said.

  “What did you just say to me?”

  “I asked you what your damage was.”

  Mindy's mouth dropped open.

  Magz continued. She didn't care if she got hit or slammed into a locker. She almost, in that moment, with the thought of Sammy's imminent death lingering over her, didn't care if she lived or died. “Just get a life and stop hassling me, I’ve got way bigger things to worry about than your bad dye job and matching attitude.”

  “You little bitch!” yelled Mindy coming at her. Magz didn't move. She didn't flinch. She just looked into the eyes of her attacker and saw nothing scary. Scary was someone you loved dying. Not this. What was Mindy going to do to her in front of the whole class? In front of Old Janet?

  “Get to the principal’s office now Mindy!” shouted Old Janet.

  Mindy screamed, punched Peggy’s desk and stormed out.

  * * *

  Magz gnawed on her nails while Jack flicked absently through her 1983 yearbook. They were still working on their assignment. Jack had done a swap with her for the 1984 yearbook, but she couldn't open it. All she could do was sit and stare above the blackboard at the crucifix in front of her.

  “Trips to the Grand Canyon huh? They’d never take us there now,” Jack said.

  “If they took us there now you and me would end up at the bottom of it,” she said, glancing out the window at the beautiful clear blue sky. “Or Mindy would.”

  “And Jim,” Jack added, still looking down at the book. “Uh, Magz, have you seen this?”

  “Have I seen what?” Magz had read the book cover to cover numerous times, she was pretty sure she hadn’t missed anything.

  He passed the book to her and pointed at a photo of the backs of two students standing close to each other and looking out over the Grand Canyon. Magz had seen the picture before loads of times.

  “So, what about it?” she asked.

  “Don't you know who that is?” Jack tapped the caption underneath.

  ‘Sammy Ruthven and Peggy Martin look into the abyss.’

  Magz gasped.

  * * *

  “This place hasn’t changed a bit, has it?” Magz mused, sliding into a booth seat near the window at Dee's Diner later that day. She had wanted to get straight back, but Old Janet wanted to take her out for coffee and Magz was tired and needed coffee, so she said yes.

  “Some things change, some things remain the same,” Old Janet shrugged.

  It was bizarre hanging out with the Old Janet. In so many ways she was exactly the same. She had the same sense of humor, the same clever twinkling green eyes, the same now outdated way of doing her eyeliner.

  Magz looked at the layers of grime around the place and wondered if anyone had even cleaned since the eighties. A middle-aged waitress with frizzy hair came over to their table swinging a coffee pot.

  “Janet!” the waitress laughed.

  “Amy!” Janet stood up and gave the woman a hug.

  “Amy, this is Magz, a student of mine, we're just having a chat over lunch about Colleges.”

  “Hi Magz,” Amy wiped her hand on her apron and then shook Magz's hand with it. The woman was vibrant and cheerful and seemed a lot younger than the lines on her face suggested.

  The two women chatted for a while, ignoring Magz completely. They laughed and carried on while Magz stared out the window vaguely, slurping on her 7UP.

  “That was Amy,” Janet whispered when she sat back down.

  “I gathered,” Magz said.

  “Amy Brown.”

  “Is that supposed to mean something?” Magz looked over at the counter to get another look.

  “She's in your typing class,” Janet sipped her coffee, made a face and added another sugar. “The coffee here is really terrible.”

  “Typing class?”

  “You used to call her Awkward Amy,” she said.

  “Awkward Amy?” Magz squealed.

  “Keep your voice down!” Janet hushed. “Yes, Awkward Amy. She wasn’t even that Awkward. It's so stupid how people get these nicknames. We became friends later on when she started dating John Hardcourt.”

  “Who?”

  “The Math teacher.”

  “O.M.G! Awkward Amy ends up dating the Math teacher?” Magz leaned forward, excited by the gossip. Lacey would have a field day with this.

  “They were dating, but not until after school, well pretty much, and they are still together now so it's not like it was sordid.”

  “Excellent future gossip, thanks Janet.”

  “Past gossip, it's all in the past. And don't you dare tell anyone at school. Imagine if there were rumors going around about Amy and John, it could ruin his career and her whole life.”

  They ate silently for a few moments.

  “So how do I change this? Is it just as easy as hiring a limo?” Magz asked.

  “I don’t know,” Janet said. “Maybe everything is already set in stone and nothing we do makes any difference”. She put her coffee cup down and gave Magz a sad look.

  “But I can try, right?”

  “You can always try. Whatever I think about fate, I know you, and I know you'll do whatever it takes to try and change it, I know you will.”

  Magz nodded. She had to change it.

  “I love him,” Magz said softly.

  “Then you try to move heaven and earth.”

  Thirty-Five

  Sammy’s House

  Sammy's front yard was tidy, but full of car parts. A shell of an orange-red car sat in the driveway next to where Sammy had parked the Firebird and a garden gnome stood next to a bush. Of all the things she expected to see in Sammy Ruthven's front yard, a garden gnome wasn't one of them. He maneuvered himself around the car parts and took Peggy's hand, leading her towards the front porch which looked like the comfiest, cutest front porch in town. A round table covered in old books and magazines sat in front of an old grey leather couch with two large plant pots on either side. Peggy imagined herself happily spending afternoons here pretending to read magazines while watching Sammy work on cars.

  But would she ever have the chance to? She felt the nervousness inside her stir up again. It had been there since she found out, since she had Googled him. A knot in her very center which tightened every time she was with him and knotted ev
en harder every time they were apart.

  He unlocked the door looking back at her with his usual cool expression and she felt a little flutter just below her knot.

  He ushered her into the small living room of what was very obviously a guy’s house. In front of the tiny TV was a coffee table on a brown shag rug, it was covered in papers, car magazines, a Valley FM coffee mug and an ashtray filled with butts in the shape of a heart.

  “Sorry about the mess,” Sammy said grabbing the ashtray and the mug and leading her towards the kitchen.

  “It's OK,” she shrugged.

  “Drink?” he asked as she followed behind him.

  Peggy shrugged again. “If you're having one,” she said politely. She felt as if she suddenly needed to be on her best behavior. Even though they had spent every spare moment of every day of the past few weeks together, being in his house was different. Especially when his dad wasn't home yet. The thought that they were alone rested on her like a heavy cloud and she felt nervous and clammy and scared and excited as hell.

  “Tea?” he asked.

  Peggy laughed. “You drink tea?”

  “Don't tell anyone,” he said as he began clattering around in the kitchen.

  “Tea and a garden gnome,” she said, thinking out loud.

  “Huh?”

  “You drink tea, and you have a garden gnome. All this time I had you picked as a bad boy.”

  “The garden gnome is my dad's and you know I'd prefer something harder to drink, but he'll be home soon.” Sammy lit the stove and placed the kettle on the ring.

  “How soon?” Peggy asked, much more confidently than she felt.

  “Not that soon,” he said, his eyes searching hers. She felt another little fluttering in a place she didn’t know could even flutter and she blushed.

  Was today the day she was going to go all the way with Sammy Ruthven? They hadn't done much at all really, except for kiss and hold hands and it had all been just perfect. She didn't want to ruin it. She also didn't know how she felt about doing the deed with a guy who was technically old enough to be her dad in the future and who was going to be dead at the end of semester if she couldn't work out how to change destiny. With Big Mick all she'd worried about was how fat her thighs were going to look and if she'd make the right noises.

  When Sammy had made the drinks, he led Peggy up the stairs to his room. It was a large attic room and not so different from what Peggy had imagined. A double bed covered in a brown, white and turquoise colored quilt was nestled in under the slant of the roof. Peggy walked straight to the small bookcase and ran her fingers over the classics and a couple of old Sci-fi novels while Sammy attended to a record player on the floor in a corner. He kicked his boots off into the middle of the room and sat cross legged while he looked through a pile of records. Peggy sat down next to him and picked up the ones he’d discarded.

  “Oh, please this one,” she said smiling, holding up a Lionel Richie album.

  “That’s not mine, I don’t know how it got in here,” he said.

  “You listen to Lionel Richie,” Peggy laughed. “You’re such a dark horse.”

  “Jessie must have been up here playing around,” he said shaking his head.

  “Who’s Jessie?” asked Peggy trying not to sound jealous.

  “My sister,” Sammy said.

  “Where is she now?” she asked.

  “She goes to a special school in the valley, she’s only home every second weekend.”

  “Oh,” Peggy said. “What’s…”

  “Wrong with her?” Sammy asked.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Peggy said, shaking her head.

  “She’s deaf.”

  “If she’s deaf how can she listen to Lionel Richie?”

  Sammy gave her a look.

  “Sorry, I didn't mean that how it sounded,” Peggy shook her head.

  Sammy put the needle down on the Bruce Springsteen record he bought the day she saw him at Ray's. “She puts her head here,” he said lying on his side in front of the record player, his ear to the brown carpet. “She feels the vibration, says she feels the music.”

  Peggy watched as he closed his eyes. He looked so peaceful, so sweet and cute, not the tough, cool, sexy teenager he usually appeared to be. Not like anyone who was going to go out and get drunk and drive into a tree. The knot tightened.

  She lay down next to him, her face just inches away from his and she tried to feel the music. He opened his eyes and looked back at her, the corners of his lips raising slightly. He ran his hand up to the scrunchie at the top of her head and gently slid it down through the length of her ponytail, letting her hair fall softly on the carpet. He took her head in his hand and he pulled her in, kissing her softly, in time with the music playing.

  “I feel the music,” she said dreamily as she pulled away from him slightly.

  “Me too,” he murmured, his lips searching for hers again. He put his arm around her and gently rolled her onto her back, leaning over her. They had kissed quite a few times since that first night in the kitchen with the chicken, but it had never been quite like this before. She gasped a little.

  “I’ll stop,” he said, moving back onto his side.

  “No,” she said, pulling him back on top of her and grinning.

  He grinned back and kissed her again.

  “What’s this?” she asked, reaching up to touch the silver pendant that had escaped from his shirt and was dangling above her chest.

  “St Christopher,” he said.

  “Like at school?” she asked.

  He laughed softly, and she could feel it resonate through both of their bodies.

  “Like the saint,” he said.

  “Why do you wear it?” she asked, letting it go and watching it swing above her.

  “My mom gave it to me the first day of school,” he said, bending down to kiss her forehead, then her nose, then her lips. “Patron saint of the highway,” he continued. “We might be the only Catholic family left in Santolsa.”

  His hands slipped around her waist and he rolled her over, so she was now on top of him. She hitched up her skirt slightly, and then leant over him, kissing his forehead. Kissing his nose. Kissing his lips lightly.

  “If you're so Catholic, why aren't you saving yourself for marriage?” she kissed the side of his mouth.

  “I'm Catholic, I'm not dead.”

  She laughed.

  “What’s this?” he asked, reaching out to touch the silver object which dangled from her own neck.

  “It's just an old key.” She quickly grabbed at it, feeling as if all her secrets were about to be revealed, where she’s from, what’s going to happen to him. Her face fell and he let go.

  “What does it open?” he asked.

  “Just an old door.”

  “It kinda looks like the classroom keys at school.”

  “You just don't miss a thing, do you?” she asked, shaking her head.

  “Not usually.”

  She looked at him, waiting for him to prompt an answer out of her, but he said nothing, he just looked at her patiently.

  “Are you going to ask me again?” she asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you don't want to tell me.”

  “I want to tell you, I just can't right now.”

  He nodded and then rolling her back onto her side he took her face in his strong hands and kissed her, deeply, sweetly.

  He slid his hand under her shirt, exploring the skin of her back and the soft undefined area of her body she hated so much, but he didn’t seem to mind it, he just kissed her deeper still.

  “I want to,” she gasped, “but I don't think I'm ready to,” her words muffled by his mouth.

  He pulled away, smiling sexily. “OK,” he said.

  “OK?” she asked.

  “OK,” he said, shrugging.

  “I thought you had like, brought me here for that.”

  “I brought you here because I want
ed to hang out with you.”

  “Oh,” Said Peggy, genuinely surprised.

  “I don't let just anyone see my house Peg.” He fixed up her shirt and began to run his hand over her back again, now slightly more covered under the yellow cotton of her school shirt.

  “And also, Jonas now has a warrant out for one of my teeth, so I’m laying low.”

  “What's happened?” she asked.

  “I have to raise the money to buy him a new tooth or he's going to take one of mine. Literally. He showed me the pliers.”

  Peggy's mouth dropped open. “How much is the tooth? I have some money saved.”

  Sammy shook his head. “He wants a gold tooth.”

  She laughed again. “Of course, he does.” Visions of Jonas from the future flashed through her mind.

  “You’ll find the cash, and it’ll all be OK”, she said.

  “I've got a car I've been working on that I can get a good deal on if I take it down to LA. I can pay for the tooth and have a bit to spare.”

  Peggy nodded thoughtfully, then lifted her shirt slightly, placing his hand back on her goose bumpy flesh. “I liked it, I want to, with you, but just not right now.” This conversation could not have been more awkward, she could feel her heart racing and hoped he couldn't feel it through their school shirts, although she was fairly sure he could. She wanted to be with him more than anything, but she was scared to get too close, scared to lose him. Scared that he was going to die, but stupidly, just as scared that he was going to be talking about her in the halls tomorrow, talking about how she was a bad lay or something equally as nasty. But when she looked into his eyes, she couldn’t see any nastiness at all. All she saw was the boy who drank tea, had a garden gnome, a deaf sister and no mother around and in no way tried to get girls to have sex with him if they didn’t want to.

  Peggy was so in love.

  “I'm in no hurry Peg, I know I have this reputation for being a bad boy because I smoke and drive fast cars and drink and I've been with women...”

  Peg cut him off, “I don't need details.”

  “I don't think of you like that, you aren't just some girl from the Fire Station to me.”