Aware that I can’t seem to remember Luke from tomorrow or the future, all I want to do right now is ditch class and spend the rest of the day getting to know him before he disappears again. Instead, I sit, grabbing glimpses of him every so often, and try my best to act normal.
I answer the phone before my mom hears the ringtone and scolds me for being up so late.
“What’s up?” I whisper.
“Were you asleep?” Jamie asks, more surprised than concerned that she might have woken me.
“No, but my mom thinks I am.”
“Didn’t you know I was going to call?” she asks.
“You know I don’t remember today, only tomorrow on,” I say, rolling my eyes at her, even though she can’t see it.
“I know, I’m just kidding.”
“Oh,” I say, tired. “What’s up?”
“I need to borrow that supercute green shirt you bought that time your mom took us to the city for your birthday.”
I am silent. Of course I have no idea what trip she’s talking about from the past, but I think forward to what she’ll wear tomorrow.
“Hello?” Jamie asks.
“Sorry, I’m here; sure, it’s fine,” I say in a low tone. “You’re coming over before school to get it, right?”
“Yes, but remember I have detention, so it’s going to be…”
“Shhh!” I interrupt. The floorboards are creaking outside my room. “My mom’s coming. Gotta go!”
I hang up and toss the phone on the nightstand just as my mom peeks into the room.
“Honey, it’s late,” she says.
“I know, I was just going to sleep.”
Mom gives me a look.
“What?” I ask.
“Are you sure you weren’t talking on the phone?” She smiles in that way that tells me I’ve been caught. And yet, for no particular reason, I deny it.
“I’m sure,” I say, inching under the covers. “Will you turn off the light?” I ask. She does.
“Night, Mom,” I say, yawning for effect but meaning it, too.
“Good night, London,” she says, and before I hear her own bedroom door click shut, I’m asleep.
8
I’m shivering in my closet, wearing only a bra, tank top, and underwear, wet hair dripping down my back, when Jamie scares the crap out of me by appearing in the doorway.
“Morning,” she says, with no warning whatsoever.
“What the hell!” I shout, jumping farther into the closet.
“Uptight much?” Jamie teases, taking in the clothes hanging neatly on the racks. “Wear this one,” she says, pointing to a plaid miniskirt.
“That’s way too short,” I protest. “I have no idea why I own that.”