Autumn's Wish (6 page)

I leap to my feet and furiously scratch my arms and legs.

“The dogs didn't bite me,” I explain. “It's the
fleas.
”

“Fleas?” he asks, wide-eyed.

I cross my hands and rake my fingers up and down my arms, hopping from leg to leg like the itchiness is unbearable. “It's the worst,” I say. “You're not feeling it?”

He reaches a hand to his bald head and gives a tentative scratch. I want to smile but instead scratch at my neck and bounce miserably. “Ugh, I can't even take it!”

“I think I see them jumping,” he says, lightly scratching at his own neck. “Little black spots, right?”

I give a final all-over scratch and then shake my head. “I'm out. I can't deal.”

I push out of the puppy pen and out the front door. I don't look back, but I can hear and feel him following right behind. I walk to the nail salon two doors down before I turn around and face him, still scratching at my arms. “Did you get bit?”

“Maybe,” he says, absently scratching his forearm. “Glad to be out of there, though. Thanks for the heads-up!” He walks off the curb and into the parking lot, still scratching at phantom itches, and I keep watching until he gets into his car and drives away. Only then do I stop pretending to scratch my own fake bites and smile.

I have to say, it's been a pretty amazing day. No horrible new husband for Mom, doubtlessly stellar SAT scores for myself…How could it possibly get any better?

I grin as I think of a way. I glance around. There's a bunch of people walking to and from their cars and ducking in and out of the stores, but everyone's minding their own business. No one will notice if I pop out for a bit, especially since Jenna and I established that I won't even be gone for a nanosecond in their time. Still, just to be safe I push myself up against the brick wall between the nail salon and a Chinese restaurant before I tug on the chain around my neck and pull out my dad's locket. I smile at the
zemi
on the cover.

“I think we did it, Dad,” I say. “I think we changed everything. Let's check.”

I open the locket to make sure nothing shifted. It's still set for the exact same date as last time. Then I close the lid, grip the locket tight, and concentrate.

Show me what I did, Daddy. Show me how things are different than they were before.

I'm in a hallway. It's very stark and white. White walls, white shiny floor, white fluorescent lights. Lots of doors. The place is instantly familiar somehow, but I can't put my finger on why.

The loud
clip-clop
of shoes gets my attention, and I spin around.

“Yes!” I shout happily. “Look at you! You're gorgeous! You look amazing!”

I'm talking to myself, weirdly enough, but a me who looks a million times better than the frumpy folded-into-herself nothing I met up with last time. This me wears gorgeous dark-wash designer jeans, knee-high black quilted boots, and a fitted black leather jacket with zippers in places that don't even make sense but look seriously hot. I carry a small black wristlet, and my hair…This me is a girl who wouldn't dream of dyeing her hair a mousy blend-in brown. My hair is so vibrantly orange I swear it shoots off rays like the sun, and my makeup and jewelry are so perfect I could give tips to Amalita or Reenzie.

I race up to myself, beyond excited to see me.

“I'm so proud of you, girl!” I say, though Future Me is in a serious hurry and doesn't break stride for even a second. She just keeps on walking, so I fall into step next to her and just keep talking. “You totally pulled it together, didn't you? It was the SATs, right? And the Senior Social Committee, and I bet you totally nailed all your first semester grades. Amazing college, amazing new friends, amazing new life…So why do you look so serious? What's up?”

Future Me has her beautifully glossed lips pursed in a straight line, and her face is complete no-nonsense. She has the same determined look I've seen on every kick-butt action hero Scarlett Johansson has ever played, and for a split second I wonder if I really am a trained assassin on a case. Or maybe I'm in a movie
playing
a trained assassin on a case.

Of course, then there would be cameras and directors and other actors around.

“Oh, Autumn, thank goodness.”

I'm so busy staring at myself I don't even notice my mom until I hear her voice. She's right in front of Future Me and me. She wears white pants and a button-down red shirt with a laminated tag pinned to it that says
Aventura Hospital Volunteer.

Hospital!
Yes, that's why this place looks familiar. It's a hospital!

“Awww!” I cry as I realize Mom's not alone but has a big, gorgeous, brown-black-and-white furry Bernese mountain dog on a leash. The dog wears a red therapy-pet vest and is so well behaved he stops and lies down when Mom stops. I automatically bend down to pet him, but my ghostly hand goes right through him. If this were a movie, he'd pick up on my presence, but the dog has no clue I'm even there.

When I stand back up, Mom's hugging Future Me.

I can't help it. I glance behind Future Me's back to check out Mom's left hand.

No wedding ring, no engagement ring. And here it is, what would have been her wedding day in the other future.

“Score!” I shout. Then I call out in case the spirit of my dad can hear, “Okay, I still don't know how this works, but I'm good to go. I totally rock, Mom doesn't have the loser, she volunteers at the hospital, I come visit her…I'm ready to go.”

Apparently, asking to leave the future doesn't do anything because I'm still here. I watch Mom pull out of the hug, but she keeps her hands on my upper arms and rubs up and down. Her eyes are teary and sympathetic, and I'm suddenly glad I didn't zip away. A warning tingle buzzes my nerves.

“Is he okay?” Future Me asks, and the tingle starts to hum. I look back and forth from Future Me to Mom, looking for answers.

“Is
who
okay?” I ask them. “Not Erick, right? Tell me it's not Erick.”

Mom smiles sympathetically. “I'll take you to see him.”

“Take us to see
who
?” I ask again, but I know all I can do is follow them as they walk down the hall. Actually, I walk ahead of them, backpedaling so I can try to read their faces. Future Me looks grim and Mom sympathetic, but neither of us is crying. If it was Erick in the hospital, wouldn't we be crying?

Is it Eddy?

“I'm sorry I couldn't pick you up from the airport,” Mom says. “I hate that you flew all the way down from school and had to take an Uber, but I couldn't get anyone else to cover the therapy dog shift, and…”

The good: Mom just confirmed I go to college somewhere a plane ride away from Florida and her gig with the therapy dogs is a regular thing, which I know she must love. The bad: She's babbling. She only babbles when she's really upset and doesn't know what to say. I'm starting to get really nervous.

Then Mom smiles at something behind me, and I turn to see we've made it to a waiting room. It's filled with rows of industrial chairs broken up only by low tables covered in ancient magazines and a counter holding old-smelling coffee and broken-up cookies.

“Hey, guys,” Future Me says, and smiles for the first time.

Now I see them: Reenzie, Taylor, and Amalita. They're on three of the chairs, Reenzie in the middle, their heads all bent together as they talk in low voices. When they get up to hug Future Me, I check them out. Reenzie wears the kind of black silk power suit I imagine her putting on to stride into a courtroom, except it's rumpled and askew, like she slept in it for several days. Taylor's in yoga pants and a sweatshirt, and Amalita wears one of her more sedate purple sheaths. All three of them look like they've been crying, though somehow Amalita's makeup is still absolutely perfect.

Mom walks up to the group hug and puts a hand on Future Me's shoulder. “You're in good hands. I have to take the dog to visit more patients. I love you.” She gives Future Me's shoulder a squeeze and walks off while the group hug continues…and continues…and continues.

So my mom's not crying but my friends are. It's not a family member in the hospital, then. Is it one of us? Jack? Sean? J.J.?

I break into a sweat and start shaking my hands just to move and do
something.
“Okay, you guys are freaking me out,” I tell the group hug. “I can't wait anymore. You have to tell me what happened.”

Finally, they break out of the clutch.

“Have you seen him yet?” Future Autumn asks the girls.

Taylor and Ames shake their heads no, but Reenzie nods. “I flew in from Stanford the day it happened, when they airlifted him in from Tallahassee.”

Amalita pulls a silver flask out of her bag and holds it out to Future Me. “It's the only way to handle this.”

Taylor tries to give Future Me a meaningful look, but Future Me ignores it. Instead I take the flask and tip it back for a long swig before handing it back to Amalita.

“Okay,” I say, putting it together, “so Reenzie's still at Stanford, and Ames is still drinking; that's the same. But my life is better and my mom's life is better and…” I can't even say the next part I'm thinking:
Is someone's life worse? Did one of my friends die?

Future Me sits down with Ames, Reenzie, and Taylor. They tuck into a corner so they can face one another, and I sit on the floor in front of them to listen as they talk.

“Come on,” I urge them. “Spill. What's going on?”

But my friends and Future Me aren't talking about whoever's in the hospital. They're giving each other the scoop on their lives. I get the sense that they keep in touch but haven't all been in the same room for a really long time, so they need to fill in the blanks. Tee tells the others about her boyfriend, Drew, and when she shows a picture, I lean in close to look.

“Yes!” I gush, relieved. It's the same Drew from the other future. “He's perfect for you. I totally didn't want you to lose him just because other things changed.”

Future Me tells the others all about Jack and Nathan, who are apparently still a couple in this future too. It seems Jack has become my closest friend from high school, which I never in a million years would have guessed. He and Nathan go to school in Boston, like me, and the three of us hang out together all the time.

“They send their best,” Future Me says. “Jack would have come down with me, but…”

“After the way he and Paul ended things? Awk-ward,” Tee singsongs.

“Paul?” I ask out loud. Paul is Sean's next-to-oldest brother, and he's gay. Did he and Jack go out before Jack met Nathan? Paul's four years older than us, which I guess isn't
that
big a difference, but wow.

“How's J.J.?” Future Me asks. “I haven't heard from him in…”

Future Me lets the sentence trail. Apparently it's been too long to remember, and I'm surprised by the sharp pang of loss in my stomach. It only gets worse when Amalita rolls her eyes. “Oy,” she says, then takes a long swig from her flask. “How do you think? Two babies, no college, married to a girl he hates but will never leave because if he does she'll never let him see his kids.”

“WHAT?!”
I burst. “
Two
kids?! And he never went to college? Are you
kidding
me?!”

“Are his parents talking to him yet?” Future Me asks.

“Little bit,” Tee says. “They hate Carrie, but they love the kids.”

“Maybe you'll see him at some point,” Reenzie says. “He comes by when he can. It's just tough with work and helping Carrie with the kids. He doesn't have a lot of time.”

I can barely take this all in before slow footsteps get my attention and I turn to see David, Sean's oldest brother. Like Sean, all three of his older brothers were football players, and David's a hulking mass of pale, unshaven guy. He walks with his head down, an unruly three-day stubble crawling over his face.

So it's Sean. Whatever's going on here, it's happening to Sean.

I almost don't want to learn. I want the locket to zip me home before I find out what horrible thing happened to him in this new future I created.

Reenzie walks right up to David and gives him a huge hug. I'm not sure if she and Sean are a couple in this future, but it doesn't matter. Reenzie's and Sean's families are so close she's like a sister to him. After the hug, she takes his hand and he holds it gratefully.

“You can come in for a bit,” he croaks. “Mom says it's okay.”

I stick with the group as they follow David down the maze of white halls and through a door. I have a vague sense of chairs in the room, of Sean's dad, Paul, and his other brother sitting there, rumpled and gutted and devastated, but mostly all I can focus on is the bed.

Sean's there. He's covered in tubes. They attach to his chest, his throat, his arm, his face. His neck is wrapped in a thick brace. His eyes are closed, and he lies perfectly still. Future Me and my friends are gathering around the bed, but I walk right through them and get next to him. Tears fill my eyes as I lean down to his face.

“Sean?” I ask. “What happened?”

He doesn't answer. He's asleep. But Sean's mom fills everyone in, even though I'm sure everyone in this room except me already knows. It's like she has to say the words anyway, just to know they're real and this isn't some horrible nightmare that'll end any second. She stands by his head, on the other side of the bed from me, and pets his hair gently as she smiles down at him and strains through tears to speak.

“He was doing so well at FSU,” she says. “Better than anyone thought. They were saying he could have gone to the NFL. Can you believe it? The sack he took…it didn't even look like anything on TV. They say he'll never move anything below his neck again, but we know better, right, Sean? We'll get you the best care, and you'll be up and walking again, no matter how long it takes.”

She says something more, but I don't hear it, because suddenly I'm gone.