Gimme a Call (9 page)

“So do I. But we can’t both be Ivy. That’s the whole point. And I called it first.” Technically, I get everything first. And I know everything first. I know everything that is going to happen to her for the next three and a half years.

I know everything that will happen to
everyone
for the next three and a half years.

Or everything that was
supposed
to happen. Until I intervened.

Oh. My. God. If I can stop Bryan and me from dating, I can stop other bad things from happening too. I can fix the entire world. I need to think. To brainstorm. I need a list. “Frosh, I need to call you back,” I tell her.

As soon as I hang up, I pull the tattered green notebook out of the drawer, my heart pounding. Frosh’s list doesn’t have to just be about Bryan and my lost retainer. I can tell Frosh all the bad things that have happened in the world since I was a freshman, and she can stop them from taking place. She can fix them. I’m a modern superhero, rushing over to save the day! I’m Future Girl! All I need is a cape.

I flip to the last page of the notebook and try to think of some of the bad stuff that’s gone down in the last three and a half years. I should start with big things. Like wars and famines and hurricanes. And then I’ll move on to more specific bad stuff. Like last year when Janice Michael’s little brother ate a peanut remnant and had an allergic reaction and fell into a coma. Or last summer when that guy a year ahead of me, Kyle Borster, got drunk, got behind the wheel of his car, and hit a bus, sending three people to the hospital. When Joelle left the water running in the bathtub and flooded her basement. When Karin stopped eating.

Or when my dad got laid off from his job and we lost our health insurance. Maya had to get a job to pay for school because her scholarship wasn’t enough, and I got a summer job at Bella, and Mom had to get a job at Intralearn.

It’s going to be a long list. But maybe I should leave off the one about Dad. For now, at least. Why should she worry when there’s nothing she can do? How could she stop it? Tell Dad not to go to work on firing day?

I spend the rest of the day hunched over the notebook, writing. I can’t believe how many sucky things have happened over the last three and a half years. I keep at it until my stomach starts to grumble and I notice that it’s gotten dark outside. I stretch my arms in front of me.

Twinkle.

Huh? I grab hold of my arm and stare. The gold bracelet is back on my wrist. What the heck?

I push my chair back and grab the picture frame. The bad lipstick with braces—gone. Which would be good, except that Tash, Karin, and Joelle are also gone. Bryan and I are back in our Halloween costumes, fangs glistening at the camera.

chapter ten
Saturday, September 10
Freshman Year

Through the peephole, I see Bryan in faded jeans and an untucked green shirt, standing at my front door, holding a container of … soup.

My heart flips. Omigod. He’s here. To see me. With soup. Is that not the sweetest thing ever? What should I do? I know that Senior Me—er, Ivy—would want me to send him away, but … how can I possibly turn away a guy who brings me soup? A hot guy who brings me hot soup.

I pull open the door. “Hi!”

“Hey,” he says, the tips of his cheeks turning red. “How are you feeling?”

Right. I cough. Twice. “I’m okay. Come in!” He follows me inside and sits down beside me on the couch. “I brought you chicken soup.” He holds up the plastic container. “Dorky, I know, but I need you feeling better for next weekend.”

“That is so nice,” I say. He could not be any cuter. I mean, really. He hands me the container. I’m not sure what to do, so I take it and place it on a magazine on the coffee table.

“So can we do something next weekend? See a movie maybe?”

Yes! I mean, no. “Yes,” I say. Definitely yes. I can’t turn Bryan down. I just can’t. I don’t want to.

He gives me a big dimpled smile. “Superb.”

My cell begins to ring from my bedroom. I ignore it. “So how’s your weekend going?” I ask.

“Uneventful. Played some ball today.”

The cell rings again. And again. La, la, la, I can’t hear it. When it finally stops, I unclench my shoulders.

Then I hear, “Hello, Devi’s phone.”

Omigod. My mom just answered my cell. My mother. Just answered. My cell. “Mom, don’t!” I scream, but of course it’s too late. What does it mean that she answered? Did she recognize my older voice?

“Devi,” my mom says, coming down the stairs holding up my phone, a puzzled look in her eye. “It’s someone named … Ivy? Or Ivan maybe? I couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl. But she—or he—says it’s urgent. Asked if you were talking to a boy, but I told her you weren’t. Oh.” She comes to a halt behind the couch when she spots Bryan. “I didn’t know you had a friend over.”

I grab the phone from her hand and hold it behind my back. “Mom, this is my friend Bryan.”

Bryan stands up and holds out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Mrs. Banks.”

Mom smiles and shakes his hand. “Can I get you something to drink or eat? I just made apple brownies.”

“That sounds delicious. Thank you.”

Mom disappears into the kitchen and I pick up the phone and press it to my ear. “Can you call back later?” I ask. “I’m kind of busy right now.”

“You don’t say,” she growls. “The bracelet is back on my wrist. The picture is back in its frame. You screwed everything up!”

“But I—I—”

“Tell Bryan to get lost!”

“But I don’t want to.” I want him to stay. I want to go out with him. I want to see a movie with him!

“Tell him he’s a jerk!” she screams in my ear.

I turn around so my back is to him. “He brought me chicken soup,” I whisper.

“Spill it over his head!” she yells.

I press the phone more tightly against my ear so that he won’t hear. “I don’t want to. I want to go out with him,” I whisper again.

“Frosh,” she says, her voice shaking, “you have to listen to me. Don’t waste three and a half years with him. You have so many more important things to do with your time. Don’t let him ruin your life.”

“But—”

“He breaks your heart,” Ivy continues urgently. “You have to trust me.”

My eyes feel hot. I don’t want to send him away, but what can I do? How can I not trust my future self?
“Fiiiiine,”
I grumble, and then hang up the phone and drop it onto the coffee table. I turn back to Bryan.

“I’m so sorry, Bryan.” Now what? I take a deep breath. “I’m not really sick.”

His forehead wrinkles. “You’re not?”

“No. It’s just that …” My future self won’t let me go out with you? Um, no. “I have a boyfriend.” Yes! I have a boyfriend. He can’t argue with that, plus it won’t hurt his feelings.

He steps back. “I didn’t know.”

My heart sinks. I know I shouldn’t care what he thinks or feels, but I do. I want him to smile again! I miss the dimply smile! “I should have told you. You caught me by surprise when you asked me out and … well … I’m sorry.”

The cell rings again. I ignore it.

He cocks his head to the side. “Does that mean you don’t want the soup? It’s not homemade or anything, but it’s still good.”

“I’m glad it’s not homemade,” I tell him. “Then I’d feel
really
bad.”

He laughs. “Store-bought, I swear.”

“Phewf.” I smile. “I
am
really sorry.”

“I get it. No problem.” Bryan starts walking to the foyer.

Mom peeks out from the kitchen. “Leaving already? Don’t you want an apple brownie?”

“You should have an apple brownie,” I say. It’s the least I can offer.

“In exchange for the soup?” he asks.

“Sure. It’s homemade,” I tell him. “My mom’s secret recipe.”

“I’d love one, thank you. But I’m actually on my way out. I was just stopping by.” He turns to me, biting the bottom of his lower lip. “So, I’ll see you at school?”

“Yup. Monday it is.”

“Where are you off to?” my mom asks.

Yeah, Bryan, where are you off to?

“Just bowling,” he says.

My stomach free-falls. Who’s he going bowling with? Is he cheating on me already?

“I’ll pack you one for the road,” my mom says, disappearing back into the kitchen.

“I may have to share it with the guys, though,” he adds.

Oh, good. Guys. Not that it matters.

Mom returns with a brown paper lunch bag stuffed with goodies, hands it to him, and winks. “Enjoy.”

“Thank you. I’m sure I will. Enjoy the soup,” he tells me.

“Good night,” I say, swallowing the brownie-sized lump in my throat. As I close the door behind him, my phone immediately starts ringing again. “He’s gone, okay?” I snap.

“I know! The picture and gold bracelet are gone too. Did you spill the soup on him?”

“No, I did not. Mom gave him brownies.” I put the container of soup into the fridge.

“Not her apple brownies! I loved her apple brownies. She never makes them anymore. I can’t believe she wasted her brownies on him. Have another one for me?”

I take another brownie.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Mom asks me.

“Yeah,” I tell her. Then I yawn. Loudly. This whole day has exhausted me. “Ivy, do you mind if we hang up now that the Bryan issue is taken care of? I’m tired and I can’t really watch and talk at the same time.”

“Yeah, yeah, go relax. You deserve it. Oh, and, Frosh, in the future—” She laughs. “In your future, I mean, don’t leave your phone lying around. I had to mask my voice when Mom answered or she would have known something was up for sure.”

“Right. Sorry about that.”

“And don’t tell Mom about me. Don’t tell anyone.”

“Why shouldn’t I?” I say.

“I think it’s better to keep it HC for now, no? Look how freaked out you got. The wish was that I could speak to you. Not to everyone in the past. I don’t want to risk messing things up.”

“Wait—what’s HC?”

“Seriously?”

“Is that a new expression?”

“It means ‘highly classified.’”

“Oh. Cool.” Scarlet T, HC … I can start a dictionary of the future.

“Just don’t tell anyone,” she says. “I won’t either. It’ll be our secret.”

“Okay.” I switch the phone to my other ear. “So what happens now?”

“What do you mean?”

“Am I going to … speak to you again?”

She laughs. “Yeah! Of course. Tomorrow. We need to make sure Bryan stays gone. He’s like a cockroach.”

My heart beats a little faster. So my life will now be run by the Bryan police? Just kidding. Of course I want to talk to her again. She’s me in the future. I’m the luckiest girl in the world.

“I’ll call you at lunch,” she says. “I have a whole list of stuff I need you to add to your list. You’re going to save the world. So get a good night’s sleep tonight. You’re going to need your rest.”

“Fabo,” I say.

“Have one last brownie, ’kay?”

“You’re going to make me gain twenty pounds.”

“Trust me, I’ll let you know if I gain twenty pounds.”

I laugh before hanging up.

I’m glad she’s happy. Really, I am. And she must know what’s best for me. She has to. Right?

Then why do I feel so … cold? I pull a knit blanket over my legs and hug my knees into my chest. It doesn’t help.

I throw off the blanket. I know what will warm me up. A bowl of soup.

chapter eleven
Monday, May 26
Senior Year

It’s going to be a great Monday.

I step outside my house and take a deep breath. The sun is shining. The birds are chirping. The ex-boyfriend who ruined my life is no longer my ex-boyfriend. I’m going to be the girl I’ve always wanted to be—with the name I’ve always wanted. The possibilities are endless.

Sure, I have to walk to school instead of getting a lift from Bryan. And I’ll have to sit by myself in the cafeteria. And I have a slight unexplained rash on my chin. But I can take it.

The Halloween picture of Bryan and the heart bracelet did not return yesterday. It was a Bryan-free day. I spent most of it giving Frosh a list of things she needs to fix to make Florence—and the world—a better place. Just seventy-three things. I’m starting small.