Unscheduled Departure (7 page)

"We checked. It's not there," I said quietly.

"Well, it has to be somewhere," he said, an edge of panic to his voice as he got down to look under the bed, then ripped the sheets and comforter off the top. I just sat and watched as he searched through the dresser drawers and the closet hangers. "I don't understand." He looked to me, lost and confused.

Then my phone rang.

I pulled it from my pocket, my breath catching when I saw who was calling.

"Who is it?" Finn asked.

I just held his gaze as I answered the call. "Hello?"

"Hi, I finally caught you." The connection was stronger than last time - still not crystal clear, but I could definitely recognize his voice.

Finn.
My
Finn.

"I'm, uh, going to put you on speaker. One sec." I switched on the speaker phone and set it on the bed between us as Finn sat down.

"Can you hear me okay?" I asked.

"Yeah. Everything all right?" I glanced at Finn, and he shook his head slightly. Like Lindsay, he couldn't hear the phone call either. He opened his mouth to speak, but I held a finger to my lips and nodded. He still looked wary, confused, but he kept silent and held my hand.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said into the phone. "How's it going there?"

Finn sighed. "I miss you," he said, his voice weary. "Ro, I think I made a mistake."

"What do you mean?"

To say it was strange talking to Finn on the phone while he sat holding my hand would have been an understatement. Part of me felt like it was a betrayal, but I couldn't let go of him. In all of the bizarreness, he was somehow keeping me grounded.

"I spent the whole morning talking business and I hated every minute of it. I mean, I
hated
it," the Finn on the phone— my Finn— said. "I don't think I can do this, Ro."

I cleared my throat. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know." He sighed again. "I'm going to talk to my mom about it. I think I'm going to tell her I changed my mind. She'll be pissed."

"You have to do what's right for you," I said quietly.

"Yeah. I just hate to disappoint her, you know?"

"I know." At my sad tone, Finn squeezed my hand.

"Well, I just wanted to hear your voice," my Finn said. "I'm going in to meet with her in a few minutes. I'll let you know how it goes."

When I realized he was going to hang up, I panicked. "Finn?"

"Yeah?"

"You'll call me back?"

He laughed. "Yeah, of course."

"Sorry." I tried to calm down. "It's just— there's something wrong with my phone and I can't call out right now."

"Oh, okay, yeah. I'll call you later."

"One more thing?"

"Yeah?" Finn's voice was quiet and fond. I felt a rush of emotion. God, I missed him.

"I know this sounds weird, but . . . " I chewed on my lip, my eyes on the phone. "Can you tell me something you've never told me before about yourself? Something only you would know?"

"What? Why?"

"Please?" How could I explain such a strange request? "Just anything. Please, Finn?"

It took a moment, but he finally answered my question, told me he loved me, and promised he'd call again. I hung up and the room fell silent.

I took a deep breath. "When you were five years old you took your father's watch out of his dresser drawer," I said, my eyes focused on Finn's hand gripping mine. "You dropped it in the heater vent and couldn't figure out how to get it out. Your dad was so angry because he thought you'd been robbed, and you were too scared to tell him the truth. So you never did."

Slowly, ever so slowly, I lifted my eyes to Finn's face. He was pale, eyes wide with shock and disbelief, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he nodded once.

"Okay," he said once he'd regained his voice. "So how do we get him back?"

I scooted closer to him, unsure if the gesture would be welcome, but he reached out and pulled me close. I slipped my arms around his waist and rested my head against his chest.

"I don't know," I whispered. "But we'll have to figure out a way."

3:08 PM

As it turned out, the campus library had a pretty extensive section devoted to theories about alternate universes and multiple dimensions. Unfortunately, I found it difficult to make heads or tails of most of it. Lindsay joined us for the research session, relieved that Finn seemed to be on board, at least on some level. He was still quiet, though, stealing glances at me when he thought I wasn't looking. I assumed he was doing the same thing I had been— searching for more evidence, differences that separated me from the Rowan he knew.

The three of us sat at a table surrounded by books. Lindsay had her laptop open and was focused intently on a webpage, the tap of her fingernail on the mouse and the shuffle of turning pages the only sounds on the nearly-empty third floor.

"Listen to this," Finn said, running a finger along the page in front of him. "
The Copenhangen interpretation holds to the premise that every event exists as a wave function, which contains every possible outcome of that event. The wave collapses once it is observed, in essence, creating reality. In other words, the observation of the event dictates the actual outcome, and all other realities are then eliminated.
"

"Of course," I muttered. "I say that all the time."

Finn shot me a mild glare, but kept reading. "
However, the Everett interpretation, also known as the Many Worlds Interpretation, holds that the wave function never collapses at all. Instead, it splits into a new world, and as a result there is a large - potentially infinite - number of universes, where every possible outcome of every situation has created a new reality.
"

"Whoa," Lindsay murmured. "So, there are who knows how many realities out there right now, where we're having this same conversation."

"Well, not the same one - it would have to be slightly different to create a new reality," Finn replied.

"So there's a Lindsay out there who decided to have tea instead of coffee this morning," she mused.

"Or to wear a blue shirt instead of a purple one," Finn said.

"Which is all very fascinating," I interjected, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice, but pretty much failing. "But none of this tells us how to get the Finn from this world back where he belongs." I glanced at Finn. "No offense."

"None taken."

"I think I might have something to help with that," Lindsay said, scooting closer and turning her laptop so we could see the screen.

I laughed. "Seriously, Linds? What the heck is quantum jumping?"

"Don't mock," she replied, sniffing indignantly. "Some of this stuff might seem a little out there, but it's the only thing I've found that even gives us a clue how to deal with this situation."

"Well, ‘out there’ kind of fits in this case," Finn added.

"Okay, okay fine.” I held up my hands in surrender. “What does this Quantum Jumper have to say, whoever he is?"

"It's not a person, it's a theory," Lindsay said. "Basically, it builds on what Finn just read about multiple realities. Quantum jumping is traveling between those realities using various techniques like meditation and visualization."

"So, you're saying Finn just has to visualize the reality he wants to go to?"

Lindsay nodded. "Basically. I think it'll help to have them both revisit the place where they crossed over to begin with. And they'll both have to do the visualization."

Finn sat back in his chair. "Well, that might be easier said than done."

"I'm pretty sure the switch happened in the airport," I said. "And now the other Finn's all the way across the country." I couldn't imagine how we'd get them in the same place, let alone convince the other Finn— my Finn— to take part in what was quickly becoming a pretty insane-sounding plan.

"We could do the same thing," Finn suggested. "I could tell you another deep, dark secret to convince him."

"You know him better than me," I replied. "Would that work?"

He shrugged, "Couldn't hurt. I—"

My phone vibrated and bounced across the table,
Private Number
lighting up the screen. I scrambled to answer.

"Finn?"

"Hey." He sounded tired.

"How'd it go?" I could feel Finn and Lindsay watching me, the weight of their expectation and uncertainty heavy on my shoulders.

He gave a short laugh. "Well, I have good news and I have bad news."

"You know me. Bad news first, Finneapolis." I heard Other Finn's sharp intake of breath and glanced at him, feeling almost guilty.

"Not my name," my Finn said. "But the bad news is, my mother probably won't be inviting us for Christmas."

My heart started to pound in my chest. "And the good news?"

"I'm coming home."

I'm coming home.

Home.

"Home?" I whispered. "Like, here home? You're coming back?"

"I'm coming back." I could hear the excitement in his voice. "I never should have left."

I looked over at Finn, who was tapping a finger on the table, his knee bouncing beneath it. His grey eyes were dark, focused on me as he listened to my half of the conversation. I wondered if he knew what the other Finn was thinking— if he could imagine the road he took to get to this decision.

I had a feeling he could, since he'd arrived at the same place, although a little quicker.

"When?" I asked.

"I'll be on the last flight out tonight."

"Tonight?" My mind was whirling. Finn was coming back. He'd be at the airport.

"My flight gets in at 12:30 in the morning, your time."

I looked at the clock. Nine hours. He'd be at the airport in nine short hours. Which meant . . .

"Finn, there's something I need to tell you."

"What?" he replied, just as the other Finn leaned forward and hissed, "Wait."

"Um, hang on a sec," I told Finn-on-the-phone. "What is it?" I whispered.

"You don't need to tell him," Finn replied. "I have another idea."

I hesitated, glancing from him to the phone. "Are you sure?"

"You said it yourself, I know him best," he said. "And you don't have time to try and convince him of all of this if he's going to get on that plane." He reached out and grabbed my hand, squeezing it as he looked into my eyes. "Trust me."

I nodded slowly and pressed the phone back to my ear. "Finn?"

"Yeah, I'm here. What did you want to tell me?"

I ignored the worried pounding of my heart. "It's nothing. We can talk when you get here," I said.

I hoped.

"Tell him to call you as soon as he lands," Finn whispered.

I didn't ask why, but did as he said.

"Okay, babe," Finn-on-the-phone replied, and I could hear a happiness in his voice that had been missing for quite a while. "Can you pick me up?"

"Sure, yeah. No problem. I'll be there."

"Can't wait to see you. I love you, Ro."

"Me too," I whispered, turning away from the other Finn. "I'll see you soon."

"Bye."

I hung up and took a deep breath before turning back around. "Okay, so this better be some great idea," I said.

"Well, I don't know how great it is," Finn replied, "but I think it's the only shot we've got."

12:38 AM

Thursday

There was no way around it. We'd bought the cheapest tickets we could find—the red eye to Vegas—just to get around security. Still, I felt guilty...nervous...as we made our way through the scanners. Like we were getting away with something.

Which we were, but still.

Finn grabbed my hand as we quickened our pace... all but running as our steps echoed dully on the gleaming floor. An accident on the interstate delayed us almost an hour, and we got there just as Finn's plane touched down. As promised, he called me as soon as he landed, but it took some talking to get him to linger behind.

My text— the one that changed the other Finn's mind about leaving— had come through when he was standing on the jetway, waiting to board. We figured our best shot of switching them back was to get both Finns in the same spot —Lindsay said the veil must be thinner there. It was good thing the incoming flight was landing at the same gate, or I didn't know what we would have done.

The airport was quiet at this time of night, and of those dazedly making their way around, nobody seemed to notice us. No one cared. We were just another couple of travelers rushing to get to the gate on time.

"Are you there?" My Finn's voice crackled out of the phone. "Ro, there aren't that many people left on the plane. I'm going to have to get off soon."

"I know," I replied through gasping breaths. I really needed to get in better shape. "I'm almost there."

"I don't understand—"

"I know you don't," I said, sliding around a corner. "Please, just trust me. In about two minutes, I need you to be in the same spot where you got my text."

He sighed. I knew he was tired.

"Finn?"

"Yeah, okay. I'll be there," he replied. "And you'll explain all of this when I see you, right?"

"I promise."

"Are you sure this is going to work?" Other Finn asked. I glanced at him.

Yes.

No.

"It'll work." We rounded a corner and I checked the time on my phone.

12:42. The screen wavered.

"Finn?" I clutched the phone to my ear desperately.

"I'm here. I'm waiting for you."

Waiting for me. Other Finn was watching me closely. I felt torn—guilty. I squeezed his hand and turned my attention to the gate signs overhead.

16...17...17a...18. Now for the fun part.

"How are you going to get past the desk?" Both Finns asked simultaneously. I fought an overwhelming urge to burst out in hysterical laughter.

"Good question." I all but slammed into the desk, startling the flight attendant focused on her computer. She pressed an open palm against her chest, fingernail clicking on her name tag.
Hi, I'm Rita. Come Fly with Me!
Rita opened her mouth to speak, but I beat her to it.

"I'm sorry," I said in a rush, willing my breathing to slow, my heart rate to calm, my smile to look a little more reassuring, a little less frenzied and maniacal.