He seems familiar.
“Do you remember him? From the future?” my mom asks in a voice so weak it’s like she’s a mouse.
Excited for a moment, I rack my brain for a memory of my brother—any memory other than the horrific one of him being taken.
“No, Mom, I don’t,” I say. It causes her tears to flow faster. Instead of comforting her, I continue to stare.
There’s nothing there, and yet…
There’s something.
Like that punch line of a joke you forget by the end, there’s something.
And to me, right now, something is just fine.
47
Luke parks directly in front of a NO TRESPASSING sign on the barbed-wire fence that keeps us from driving off the incline. He kills the engine and the headlights along with it.
The town twinkles below, and I inhale the warm evening through the open windows.
“Did you bring me here to kill me?” I tease.
“Not tonight,” he says warmly. “This is a do-over.”
“Of what?”
“Of our first date,” he says, staring into my eyes. “We fell asleep; you forgot to write it down. I’ve told you about it. You’ve probably read about the morning after…”
My cheeks flush.
“… but you didn’t experience it. So I’m doing it again.”
“You’re awesome,” I say, without thinking too much about it. Luke grins sheepishly and heads to the back of the van to get some pizza.
After dinner and a movie, Luke suggests stargazing and I wholeheartedly agree. He rolls up the windows, since the night air is growing chilly, and we lie together under the blanket Luke thought to bring, staring up through the moonroof to the universe above.
“We should talk about it,” Luke says, face to the stars.
“About what?” I ask, but I think I know what he’s referring to.
“About you suggesting we break up.”
I scoot closer to him, if that’s possible.
“It’s not that I want to break up, I just said that it might be better. For you. It might change the future so that you don’t get killed.” I say the words without conviction.
“Being without you would never be better for me,” Luke says, facing me. His tone is serious. “Do you understand that?”
“Yes,” I say, because I do. Maybe I’m selfish, but I give in a little too easily. I don’t really want to let him go. Maybe deep down I have more faith in my ability to change things than I’m willing to admit.
“Then let’s forget all about it,” Luke says as he grabs my hand.
“Agreed,” I whisper, kissing him lightly on the cheek.
“So did you remember this night already?” he asks.
“Probably, but I guess I didn’t want to spoil it,” I say truthfully. “I didn’t include it in my notes.”