I recognized the familiar hum of hospital activity and the smell of antiseptic, along with the IV running down my arm. I didn’t have to open my eyes to know I’d suffered another concussion. My head throbbed, and my neck ached. I sighed heavily and braced myself for the surge of pain I knew would accompany the act of opening my eyes.
“Stevie?” Jody asked, and I turned my head toward the sound of her voice, sparking a wave of nausea. “Can you hear me?”
I nodded and opened my mouth to speak, but my throat was too dry.
“It’s okay,” Jody said, laying a hand on my shoulder. “Lie still. I’m going to get the nurse.”
I relaxed into the pillow, trying to discern if I’d sustained any other injuries from the fall. I wondered which one of those assholes had tripped me when I was on such a roll. Probably Deelia—she’d been standing closest. So much for sliding through my senior year a second time. Everything would be different now. At least Jody’d come to the hospital with me. I still didn’t know how to make peace with whatever we were to each other, but hopefully coming out to the whole school constituted taking a stand. Was it enough to make her stay?
“Hey, Stevie,” a vaguely familiar voice said. “I paged the doctor, and I’m trying to keep your friends from getting too excited out in the waiting room. I don’t want you getting worked up, okay?”
I nodded and managed to croak out an “okay.”
“Can you open your eyes?”
I tried, only to have my eyelids flutter enough to let in a sliver of painfully bright light before clamping them shut again. “Hurts.”
“Sensitivity to light is not uncommon with a concussion. Miss Hadland, will you close those curtains?”
I heard the soft pull of industrial-grade fabric against metal, and the white light trying to penetrate my eyelids lessened to a grayish pink.
Do you remember where you are?” the nurse asked.
“Darlington.”
“Right.”
“And do you remember what happened?”
“Someone tripped me.”
I heard some rustling, then silence, and I wished I could see the nurse’s expression.
“What about the date?”
“Um, March eleventh, 2002?”
“Did she just say 2002?” Jody asked, fear creeping into her voice.
“Okay, Stevie, you took quite a hit, and you’ve been out for a while. Why don’t you just stay still and quiet until the doctor gets here, okay?”
She wasn’t telling me something. The surreal sense of déjà vu pricked at my skin. “Did I get the date wrong?”
“Don’t worry about that now. I’ll be right back.”
I waited for the soft click of the door closing before asking. “Jody, are you still here?”
“I am,” she said, and I felt her hand cover my own.
“What year is it?”
“Stevie…” she said, conflict thick in her voice.
“Please, tell me. Am I a senior in high school?”
“No.”
My head spun, and I fought to keep from throwing up.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” I lied, then forced a smile. “Just hibernation sickness, I guess.”
I squinted my eyes a little until I acclimated myself to the dim light of the room. I searched for her face, but everything was still a blur. “How long have I been out?”
“You’ve been in a coma for almost twenty-four hours.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all?” She laughed softly. “It’s been the longest twenty-four hours of my life.”
I heard the door open and a man’s voice say, “Hello, Stevie. I’m Doctor Lohnes. How you feeling?”
“Pretty bad at the moment.”
“I bet.” He took my wrist between his thumb and fingers. “Your pulse is okay, and your vitals are strong. How’s your noggin?”
“A little fuzzy,” I admitted. “I think I told the nurse I was a senior in high school.”
“You sure did,” he said, not unkindly. “Have you rethought that answer?”
“Yes.” I hesitated. “I think I’m twenty-nine.”
“Where do you live?”
“The Village. New York, New York.”
“That sounds exciting. Do you remember what landed you in Darlington Regional Hospital?”
“I was at an awards assembly, and I got so nervous I passed out.”
“Well, that’s not the medical explanation, but it’s close enough.”
“What’s the medical explanation?”
“Do you want me to step outside?” Jody asked.
“No,” I said, and managed to open my eyes a little more. “Please stay.”
“You’re fine,” the doctor said. “It’s nothing too serious. You had very low blood sugar complicated by a good bit of dehydration. Add a bona-fide panic attack, and your body couldn’t keep up with your accelerated heart rate or shortness of breath. You lost consciousness, and when you fainted, you sustained a pretty significant concussion. Your body needed some time to recuperate.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“It’s okay,” he answered.
“Not to you, to Jody.”
“Hush. What’s done is done,” Jody said. “I just want you to get better.”
“I’m feeling a little better.” I opened my eyes again, this time all the way to meet hers. They were every bit as blue as I remembered. Her hair was shorter but still fair and fine. The subtle appearance of lines across her forehead might have been from age, or maybe concern, but they did nothing to detract from her beauty. I trembled and squeezed her hand tighter.
“What is it?” Jody asked, leaning closer. “Does it hurt?”
“No, it’s you.” I caught my breath and tried to let it out slow and steady. “You’re still so beautiful.”
Her lips parted, and her cheeks turned crimson.
“Well,” the doctor said awkwardly, “you must be feeling better.”
Oh shit, did I say that aloud? Had I just outed her? I let go of her hand quickly and tried to sit up, struggling against the bass drum of pain pounding through my skull. “Sorry. I just…I’m still a little out of it.”
“It’s okay. I see nothing to worry about long term, but given the amount of time you were out and the level of your disorientation, I want a specialist to look you over.”
“Sure.” Maybe that wasn’t more warranted than he realized.
“Can the others see her now?” Jody asked.
“Yes, as long as they keep it quick and quiet.”
He closed the door behind him, and I stared back at Jody. “I’m sorry for saying that. I don’t know what came over me. I’m having a hard time getting reoriented to the future.”
“The future?” Rory asked, coming in with Beth right behind her. “That’s a heavy topic for a moment like this.”
“Not really.” I tried to explain. “Not when you’ve spent the last ten days living in the past.”
Beth raised her eyebrows. “That doesn’t sound very fun.”
“It was awful. Mostly.” I laughed. “I was back in high school.”
Rory agreed. “That does sound awful.”
“It must’ve been a dream, but it didn’t feel like one. You were there,” I said to Beth, then turned to Jody, “and you were there.”
Then I looked at Rory. “You weren’t there.”
“Good.” She grinned.
“It just felt so real and so long, so detailed. I feel different now, like I’m not sure which of my memories are real and which ones aren’t.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Beth asked.
“Yes. I’m a little sad though. I mean, I even considered the possibility I might be dreaming because of the circumstances, but I don’t know…I expected things to be different when I woke up.”
“Like what?” Rory asked.
“I’m not sure. Maybe a happier ending.” My chest throbbed at the thought of Kelsey, and tears filled my eyes. I missed her already. “I let myself think I could make a difference, like my actions could make someone else’s life better, only to find out I didn’t actually take the chance, ya know?”
Everyone stared quietly, either at me or the floor. Were they thinking about their own missed opportunities or mine?
A gentle knock on the door caused us all to look up as a striking Indian-American woman entered carrying a clipboard. She had long, straight black hair and big espresso eyes. “Stevie, I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Doctor Patel.”
My heart jumped painfully, and I fell back to the bed with a sickening thump that caused pain to flash red and white behind my eyes.
“What’s the matter?”
“What happened?”
“Are you okay?”
Everyone talked at once, but Dr. Patel was the first to act. She was over me in an instant, cupping one hand behind my head and the other on a pressure point on my neck. “Stevie, can you hear me?”
I nodded, shocked into submission by the touch of her very strong, very capable hands. “Kelsey?”
“That’s right. I’ve got you. I need you to take a deep breath,” she said calmly. “Breathe through the pain.”
I sucked in a deep, gasping breath and shuddered it out through a clenched jaw. Then I attempted another one, this time a little slower.
“Okay,” she said, “let me see your eyes.”
I met her intense gaze, so unlike the cold, disillusioned expressions I’d come to expect from her. “I bet that hurt pretty badly. Care to tell me what happened?”
“I don’t know what happened,” I said honestly. “You, you startled me.”
She glanced at the monitor wired to my arm. “Your heart rate is worryingly elevated, but your oxygen intake is still good. You’ve had enough excitement for one day.”
I’d probably had all the excitement I could handle for a lifetime, but I couldn’t begin to explain that now.
“I’d like you all to say good-bye for the evening,” she said to the others, then turned back to me. “And I want to run a few more tests on you. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
As soon as the door closed, everyone turned to me, looking worried and confused.
“Jesus.” Rory rubbed her forehead. “What was that?”
“I don’t know.” I blinked and rubbed my eyes.
“You looked like you’d seen a ghost.”
“I did.”
“What do you mean?” Jody asked, her voice strained.
“I saw Kelsey Patel. That was Kelsey Patel, right?”
“Yes.”
“Rory?” I asked. “Don’t you remember what I told you about her before the assembly?”
She seemed to search her memory. “No, I’m sorry. I don’t remember ever hearing her name until today. What did you tell me?”
“That she killed herself when we were in high school.”
I didn’t need to decipher the looks the others traded. They thought I was crazy. I’d begun to suspect as much myself.
“I’m an anti-bullying advocate,” Rory said, slowly, softly. “I’d remember hearing about a Darlington student committing suicide.”
“Jody.” I was pleading. “You remember her, don’t you?”
“I remember she was in your class. That’s all.” She shook her head. “But Rory’s right. If one of my students took their own life on my watch, it would’ve consumed me. I would never be able to forget a loss of that magnitude.”
“Are you sure that wasn’t just part of your dream?” Beth asked
“I have a clear memory of our conversation, and it was before I passed out. I know it was. Or I thought I knew. Now I’m doubting everything.”
“Like what?” Jody asked.
“Like you,” I said, examining her more closely. If Kelsey was alive, had I also altered Jody’s path. “Did I kiss you in your car?”
“Last night? No.” Her blush returned. “I thought you might, but you didn’t.”
“What about when I was in high school?”
Rory blew out a low whistle. “Wow, that must have been a hell of a dream.”
Jody shook her head. “You most definitely did not kiss me then. I’d have never survived student teaching.”
“But you did survive, didn’t you? You’ve been a teacher in Darlington for all these years?
“For better or worse,” Jody said, her voice softened with exhaustion.
“It’s for the better.” I squeezed her hand. “Please, trust me.”
“Okay.” Worry creased her features. “I trust you, but you need to rest.”
“Will I see you again?”
“Of course. None of us are going to leave you alone. You know that, right?”
I nodded. I didn’t know much else, but I did know that.
*
I lay in the hospital bed and stared at the ceiling. I’d woken up. I’d returned to my life, to my future, or the present. I’d hoped for this transition, prayed for it, and changed so many things in my own mind to get here, but now reality felt less real than my dream. Or had it been a dream? If so, when had it begun? And had it ended yet?
As if summoned by my musings, Kelsey entered my room tentatively. “No fainting on me, okay?”
I smiled in spite of my confusion. No amount of disconnect could temper my happiness at seeing her alive and well and apparently successful. “Sorry about earlier.”
“It’s okay. The nurse told me it was 2002 for you earlier today.”
I sighed. “It sounds pretty crazy.”
“Maybe, but people thought Galileo was crazy too.”
I eyed her suspiciously. “Do you believe in time travel?”
“I don’t know. Do you have a Tardis?”
“I think we’ve had this conversation before.”
She shrugged and took the seat beside my bed. “It’s not impossible.”
“Really? Do you remember it?”
“No, but I can’t imagine all the conversations I’ve forgotten since I last saw you.”
“I feel like I just saw you yesterday but also a very long time ago. What kind of doctor are you?”
“I’m a neuropsychologist. I deal with the intersection of brain functions and psychological processes.”
“Wow. I have a hard time believing there’s much call for that in Darlington.”
“There’s not. I’m based out of St. Louis University Hospital. I only see patients for consult here once a month, but when I heard you were in, I had to come check on you myself.”
“Why?” I sat up and tried to search her eyes for any clue as to what connection we had to one another. “What do you remember about me?”
“Honestly, it seems like so long ago now I’m having a hard time recalling a single specific encounter. It’s like waking up after a dream. I remember how I felt rather than what happened. Still, I think you were nice to me in high school when no one else was.”
“And that’s enough for you?”
“The mind is a funny thing. We understand only a small part of our brain functions and even less about our emotional response patterns or their triggers.”
“So you don’t think it’s impossible for me to have time-traveled, but you think it might be impossible to know for sure what happened while I was unconscious?”
“It’s a funny, funny business, and those aren’t the answers I generally look for.”
“Right. You wanted to run some more tests.”
She smiled, an expression I didn’t think I’d ever tire of seeing from her. “I just did.”
“And? What’s the prognosis, Doc?”
She rose and patted my hand. “The only thing standing between you and a full recovery is your willingness to open your mind to experiences that defy logic.”
I snorted. “You have a prescription for that?”
“Yes.” She chuckled. “Time.”