Unraveling

  I hold out a hand to steady myself and hear Alex say, “It’s okay, I got him,” and then Ben is there, steadying me, as I lean over and vomit into the dirt.

  It’s while I’m bent over, puking up the food I ate today with Ben holding my hair, that I hear the electronic sound a TV makes when you turn it on or off in a quiet room. A cool rush of air hits the back of my neck, and my body shivers.

  Elijah says, “Holy fucking shit,” Alex grunts, and for a minute I don’t see it. It’s dark and it’s hard to see too far in the distance. But to my left there’s a perfect circle of landscape that seems to be missing. In its place is a nothingness, a black hole. I see it because it ripples like it’s liquid—and because Barclay and Eric Brandt in full tactical gear are coming through. They both have guns trained on us, and Eric Brandt shouts, “Get on the ground, hands behind your head!”

  Elijah steps toward him and Barclay yells, “Right now!”

  Then I hear the gunshot.

  And I turn in time to see that Reid and Alex both have their hands on my father’s gun, and blood is pouring from a hole in Alex’s neck.

  00:20:40:13

  I throw myself at Alex.

  My hands go to the hole in his neck, and I press down to try to stop the bleeding. They’re coated in his blood within half a second. I’m screaming for someone to help me, but Eric has his gun on Elijah and Ben, and Barclay has his on Reid.

  “It’s Reid!” I scream, because I can’t deal with Ben getting shot too.

  Reid looks at me, then raises his gun toward Barclay.

  And there isn’t even a split second of hesitation.

  Barclay shoots him in the head.

  Eric has Elijah and Ben on the ground with their hands over their heads. Underneath my own hands, I can feel Alex choking on the blood in his throat. I look over my shoulder and see Barclay checking Reid’s vitals.

  “He’s dead!” I scream to Barclay. “Help me!”

  Blood comes out of Alex’s mouth, and I try to look him in the eyes and will him to stay with me, but they’re already glassy and unfocused.

  “Please, Alex, I need you!”

  I can tell the exact moment he’s gone, though. I just know.

  Barclay is kneeling next to me, adding his hands to mine, trying to apply pressure to the wound. And I’m suddenly so cold, my whole body is shaking.

  But I refuse to give up.

  “Ben! Barclay, please, I need Ben!”

  Barclay turns and shouts something to Eric. Something about Reid.

  “It was Reid opening the portals!” I shout. I need Ben to help me. “Please, Barclay!”

  I can’t breathe. I can’t believe this is happening. After everything. How could I be so stupid as to let Alex come with us? I should never have let him run around and play FBI with me in the first place.

  Ben scrambles in next to me, and I grab his hands and thrust them into the blood where the bullet went. “Heal him, please.” I’m crying.

  “I will,” he says.

  And I feel Ben’s hands start to warm up and heat underneath mine, and that heat seeps into Alex’s skin, and then Elijah is kneeling down across from us, lending his hands to Alex’s neck too, and I pull back since my hands aren’t going to do anything but get in the way.

  Before my eyes, the skin reknits itself together until there is no bullet hole.

  But Alex doesn’t wake up.

  “What’s wrong? Why isn’t it working?”

  “He’s lost too much blood!” Elijah says.

  “Here,” Ben says as he pushes me out of his way and puts his hand on Alex’s chest. He pours whatever he can into Alex’s chest—to restart his heart. Alex’s body jerks, and then Ben and Elijah are doing CPR.

  “Please, please, Alex,” I plead over and over again. But nothing happens. He doesn’t open his eyes or take a breath.

  Until Barclay is pulling me back.

  “Tenner, he’s already long gone,” he says, and then he shakes my shoulders. “Janelle, they can’t bring him back.”

  I look up into Barclay’s blue eyes, and I must be delusional because I think he’s actually trying to be nice to me. “People aren’t supposed to have those kinds of powers,” he says. “We’re not supposed to be able to bring people back from the dead. You have to let him go.”

  “I’m supposed to be dead,” I say.

  Barclay at least doesn’t lie to me. “But you’re not.”

  “But why?” I whisper.

  “Maybe you weren’t ready to let go, maybe Ben didn’t get to Alex in time,” Barclay says. “It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

  And then someone is pushing Barclay out of the way and pulling me into their arms. “I’m so sorry, baby. I fixed what I could, but it was too late.” I sag into Ben, breathing in his smell and letting him take my weight as my legs give out beneath me.

  Until we’re on the ground, holding on to each other, sticky with Alex’s blood, and Elijah puts a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Janelle. I fucking liked him.”

  00:20:37:40

  The IA finally has enough of my hysteria, and Barclay pulls me to my feet. Then he turns to Ben. “I’m not kidding about your abilities,” he says. “Besides the fact that every time you use them, you fuck around with your body’s chemical makeup, there are people out there who think no one should have that kind of power, and you’d be smart to not advertise, if you know what I mean.”

  I don’t really know what that means, other than the fact that Barclay thinks Ben might be putting himself in danger.

  “Got it.” Ben stands and pulls me into him again.

  “And no more opening portals,” Barclay says, lowering his voice and glancing at Brandt. “At all. If anyone in IA finds out you were involved more than you let on…”

  Ben nods.

  “Once we’re home, I have no reason to ever fucking leave,” Elijah adds.

  “Taylor, get the body,” Brandt says before he approaches us. And he looks specifically at me. “Earth 19402 will be closed to interverse travel for at least six months after we leave to allow it to restabilize in its new position. But after that, as long as there’s no unauthorized travel or unstable portal openings, you should gradually but steadily move away from Wave Function Collapse.”

  “And you’re not going to release the Oppenheimer on us?” I ask.

  “No, I’ll disable it. As long as no one else opens any more portals, your universe should restabilize on its own,” he says, and then he looks at Ben and Elijah. “This will get you home. It’ll be open for four minutes exactly, and then it’ll shut forever. Within the next few days, someone from IA will come by to debrief you on exactly what happened here, for the report.”

  And he points a quantum charger at open space, and a portal opens.

  Then he turns, and without another word, he goes back through the portal he and Barclay appeared from.

  I turn to Barclay. “You’re taking the Oppenheimer with you, right?” Because I don’t want that thing stuck here.

  He nods.

  “How did you find us?” I ask.

  “There’s a tracking device in every quantum charger,” he says. “It took me a while to figure out how to turn it on.” He doesn’t say they made it in time, because Alex is dead, but he grabs Reid’s body, looks at Ben, and says, “Don’t fuck this up. Get through the portal. It’s your only chance to get home.”

  Then he looks at me. “Take care of yourself,” he says, and then right before he steps through his portal, he adds, “And good job.”

  Then he’s gone, and the portal closes behind him.

  And the countdown is over.

  When Barclay is gone, Ben hugs me to him and tells me again he’s sorry about Alex. He’s crying too—his whole body shakes as he wraps it around mine. I swallow down the lump in my throat and wipe the burning tears from my eyes.

  “It’s not your fault,” I say, even though it hurts. Because it’s not his fault—and I know that—but I still don’t underst
and why he could bring me back from the dead and not Alex.

  “Guys, are you fucking seeing this?” Elijah says.

  But I don’t need to see the portal. I feel it. The air changes, the temperature drops a fraction of a degree, a breeze that seems to say storm picks up, a shot of electricity moves through the ground under my feet, and I can smell it—wet, never-ending, open.

  I shiver.

  Not just because it’s cold.

  I’m afraid to look at Ben, so I look at Elijah first. His mouth ajar, his eyes wide, he’s leaning toward the portal. The front of his body has an eerie glow to it, as if the portal itself is reflecting off him, beckoning him to come forward, like it’s waiting to reclaim him.

  He turns, his eyes looking past me as if I’m not even here, a slow smile spreading wide. “We did it,” he whispers. “We really fucking did it!”

  And Elijah suddenly throws his head back and his arms out to the sides, and a laugh between elation and hysteria peals from his mouth, swallowing up the eerie silence.

  And my throat constricts. My eyes burn. I try to swallow back the rising tide of emotions. I’m alive when I should be dead. My father is dead. Alex is dead. We just prevented the end of the world. We stalled Wave Function Collapse. We opened the portal they need to get them back home. It’s all too much—and I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel.

  It doesn’t matter that I knew this part was coming—I hoped for it, for Ben. I can’t swallow. Instead I fight the urge to gag.

  I turn to Ben. Only he’s not looking at the portal, and he’s not looking at Elijah. He’s looking right at me.

  Those deep-set eyes that look like they could tell stories for days, and that wavy brown hair that feels soft between my fingers. I try to memorize the angles of his jaw and the lines of his lips, because I know.

  I know this might be the last time I ever see him.

  Breath fills my lungs, my throat relaxes, and I can’t help but smile. Because I can see what he’s thinking as clearly as if he had spoken.

  He doesn’t want to leave—he doesn’t want to go home.

  He’s going to choose me instead.

  Ben lifts his hand toward me, and as my heart flutters, Elijah catapults himself in front of me, throwing his arms around Ben and tackling him to the ground.

  “We’re going home!” Elijah laughs. “We’re finally fucking going home. My parents—your brother! I’ve imagined what they’ll say when they see us every fucking day we’ve been gone.”

  The reminder hits me like a punch to the gut. Seven years Ben’s been away from his family. Seven years he’s been in and out of foster homes. What kind of person would I be if I asked him to stay here?

  If I let him stay.

  I would never leave Jared—or even Struz—behind. What kind of regrets will Ben have if he chooses me over his family—his former life? How much resentment will he have toward me if I let him?

  Elijah jumps up again and pulls Ben to his feet. “Ready?” he says, and I never thought I’d look at Elijah Palma and see an unbridled enthusiasm and a lightness in his step that reminds me of my brother.

  “Eli,” Ben whispers, a finality in his voice.

  And despite the fact that my heart is hammering uncontrollably in my body, I know I need to take care of this.

  “I’m not—”

  I cut in. “Yes, you are.”

  Ben’s eyes pivot to mine, and Elijah looks back at me, remembering my existence with surprise.

  “Janelle…”

  “Don’t.” My voice breaks, even though I’m desperately trying to hold it together. “You said it yourself. You don’t belong here,” I add, squeezing the words through the tightness in my throat. “You need to go home.”

  But my traitorous heart comes to life enough to scream that it still loves him. Because no matter what those other parts of me think, the part that decided that it loved Ben Michaels still does. And it doesn’t want to let him go without some kind of fight.

  Ben pushes past Elijah and pulls me into his arms in a motion so swift that I can’t follow it—not through the tears clouding my vision. But as his body curls around me, the irony that we just fit so perfectly together, like the contours of our bodies have molded together to maximize the points of connection, is hardly lost on me. He squeezes me against him—hard. Almost to the point that it hurts.

  When he presses his mouth to my ear and his breath whispers into my hair, for a minute I’m delusional. “I belong with you.” I want him to say it so badly that I imagine he does.

  “Come on,” Elijah says. “We’ve got less than a minute.”

  Ben pulls away, and I see Elijah standing at the portal.

  Elijah looks back over his shoulder, as if he’s daring Ben not to follow him. And then his eyes meet mine, and he nods. It’s the closest to some form of acceptance and understanding that will ever pass between us. I get that, and offer one of his head nods right back at him.

  He looks back at Ben, his eyes offering an unspoken threat. And then he moves through the portal, disappearing into the inky blackness.

  Elijah Palma no longer exists on this Earth.

  My chest feels like it’s collapsing inward. I open my mouth, but I can’t inhale.

  Ben looks at me.

  As his hand reaches out to cup my face, I can see that he’s crying.

  And suddenly, if I don’t kiss him one last time, I will never forgive myself.

  Our lips collide—lips, tongues, teeth all come together. His hands grip me so hard, I know I’ll bruise, and I try to drink down the very essence of him through this kiss—try to memorize every moment we spent together.

  I want to go back and freeze that moment, that first day in APEL where he asked how I’d want someone to propose to me, that moment when I leaned into him, my lips almost touching his ear, the smell of his shampoo in my nose, the way his breath caught in my ears while I whispered, Fucking marry me.

  I’m going to miss more moments like that—physics labs and English debates like the ones we already had. Motorcycle-riding lessons, lunches in the library, talking about books, watching superhero movies or playing video games with Jared—moments we should have had together, but won’t.

  Ben pulls back, both of us gasping for air.

  He takes two steps back. Closer to the portal.

  I can’t stop myself. “Ben,” I call. And I’m not even embarrassed about how helpless my voice sounds.

  Don’t go.

  “I’ll come back for you.” He takes another step back. “I promise.”

  Stay.

  “Janelle Tenner,” he says. “I will always fucking love you.”

  And then he takes one more step back. Into the portal. And blackness swallows him whole.

  And then the portal closes. The last traces of Ben have left the world completely.

  I sink down next to Alex’s body and think of everything I’ve lost since Ben brought me back from the dead. I would have thought my eyes would be dry by now, that my ability to cry would be cut off—there should be a limit to tears.

  But I lay my hand on Alex’s forehead and remember the time I was nine and told his mother it was me who ruined her gardenias in the front yard, even though it had been Alex digging them up in a fit of rage because she’d forbidden him to play soccer. And I cry all over again, like I’ve never cried for anything in my life.

  I remember the way Alex smiled when he came into first period in seventh grade after this crazy rainstorm had ended, with squeaking sneakers and wet socks that sloshed as he walked, leaving small puddles of water in each spot where his feet touched the floor. His black hair stood on end, and when our teacher asked if he needed a towel or a change of clothes from the nurse, he just shook his head. He ended up with the flu and couldn’t audition for the school play like his mom had wanted him to.

  I remember the field trip we took to Big Bear, when we both saw snow and experienced real winter for the first time. With soaked fuzzy mittens and red noses that
burned, Alex and I were the only two people who didn’t go skiing that first day. Instead we knelt over clumps of snow lumped by our feet, pushing them together until we had a snowman. We made snow angels and pelted each other with snowballs until we couldn’t feel our faces.

  And I remember how I felt after I woke up in that car freshman year, knowing my friendship with Kate was broken—irreparably. And knowing the only person I could go to was Alex.

  When my tears have finally stopped, Alex’s forehead has gone cold, and I make a mental note of exactly where we are so Struz can get someone out here for his body and we can bury him. If we don’t find his mom, we can bury Alex in my mother’s plot, right next to my dad.

  I think both Alex and my dad would like that.

  It starts raining when sunlight peeks over the horizon, and as the water hits my face and my hair, I try to imagine it washing all the heartache and loss away. I tilt my face to the sky, the rain mixing with Alex’s blood and my tears.

  I think of the way Ben looked when I saw him—really saw him—for the first time, when he brought me back to life. Looming over me with the sun behind him. I think of the first time we kissed on Sunset Cliffs, and I think of the way he looked when he said, I’ll come back for you.

  I don’t know if he will, if he’ll be able to, or if it would even make sense. If we belong to two different worlds, how could we ever be together?

  But even if I never see him again, he’s given me more than I could ever give back. I have so much to live for—Jared, Struz, this universe. There’s so much for us to do—to rebuild.

  Ben Michaels gave me my life back. He gave me a second chance.

  I stand there until I’m soaked through, shivering, and numb from the cold. Until my eyes have put their tears to rest.

  And I look around the canyon and the devastation that is now North San Diego County.

  But I’m alive.

  I’m alive.

  More alive than I was before any of this happened.

  Life is a fragile thing. Apparently the whole world is fragile too.

  But it’ll beat on.