to hide a triumphant smile. The shock on his face is too priceless. I would take a picture but I can’t be certain it would be on my phone in the morning.
“H-h-how did you…”
“You told me about it. Last night.”
“I most certainly did not. Besides, I just had the dream last night.”
“Yup,” I say. “That’s the problem. Last night for you was Sunday night. Last night for me was tonight. I mean, Monday night. This whole day and night has been a complete duplicate.”
“You mean Tristan broke up with you twice?”
The reminder is like a knife into my heart. I swallow. “Yes.”
“And we’ve had this conversation before?”
“Well, not this same conversation, but similar. Some details have been changed.”
He crosses his arms and rests them on Hippo’s head. “Like what?”
“Like last night, you tried to cheer me up by insisting I rename Hippo.”
“He does deserve a real name.”
“That’s exactly what you said last night.”
“Alternate me is one smart guy.”
“Then I said that he does have a real name, and you said—”
“Hold up. Calling something by its literal genus is not a real name.”
I laugh. “Exactly. That’s exactly what you said.”
“Holy crap, Ells.”
“I know.”
“I mean like bloody hell.”
I nod in agreement. “Bloody hell, indeed.”
“How does it work?”
“That’s the thing. I have no idea! I just woke up and it was … today.”
“What are you going to do? Like tomorrow?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t know if this will even happen again tomorrow. Maybe it was a onetime thing and I botched it up.”
“But what if it’s not? What if you do get another chance? What would you do differently?”
I stop and think about that. “Everything.”
“Everything?”
“If I do get another chance, there’s only one logical explanation for it. I have to fix what I messed up, right?”
“I guess.”
“And the biggest thing I messed up was Tristan. I have to get him back. Or, you know, stop him from leaving.”
For a flash of a moment, Owen looks disappointed in my answer. What was he hoping I would say? That I’d join book club? I don’t think the universe is rearranging itself just to convince me to discuss The Book Thief at lunch.
“So that’s your big plan, then?” he asks.
“Do you have a better idea?”
“No. I guess not.” He sets Hippo aside and stands up. “Well, I better get home. I don’t want to poof into thin air at midnight or anything. That can’t be good for me.”
He steps onto the window ledge and grabs the overhanging tree branch for balance.
“Svnoyi Ostu.” I tell him good night in Cherokee. It was one of the phrases used at Camp Awahili.
He cracks a smile. “Svnoyi Ostu.”
I’m about to shut the window when I notice Owen pause and look back at me. “Ells?”
I stick my head out. “Yeah?”
“Did you rename Hippo? I mean, the last time we had this conversation?”
I smile at the memory of how effortlessly Owen cheered me up and how he made me temporarily forget my heartbreak. “Yeah, you wouldn’t stop badgering me so I named him Rick.”
“But you’re still calling him Hippo.”
“Because yesterday never happened, remember?”
“Ah, right.” He gives me a small salute. “See you tomorrow.”
I close the window and lean my forehead against it. “Or today,” I whisper, my words turning into fog against the glass.
10:42 p.m.
I lie in bed for a long time, thinking about the events of the day and my conversation with Owen.
What if you do get another chance?
I glance at my nightstand. The cup of water I spilled this morning is still sitting there empty. My phone is plugged into its charger. I grab the phone, tap on the Instagram app, and aim the tiny camera at my face.
I smile weakly, snap the selfie, and type out a caption.
I was here.
The Way We Were (Part 2)
Five months ago …
“So what are you doing out here?” I asked as I splashed my legs through the warm, heated water of Daphne Gray’s pool. It felt so good on my skin. A shiver-inducing contrast to the freezing-cold air that swirled around us. The party still blared inside, a million miles away from here.
He stared at our feet, which were warped and distorted under the water. “I had to get out of there. It was too … too…”
“Much?”
He chuckled. “Yeah. Way too much.”
I sighed. “Me, too. I just came to look for my friend and—”
“So you claim.”
“I just came to look for my friend,” I repeated pointedly, shooting him a sideways glare. “And it was way too much. And oh my God,