“Are you really this excited to be driving carpool, Mom?” Tara asks.
Rory leans forward. “Maybe you drank too much coffee, Mrs. B. That happened to me once.”
Tara’s mom laughs. “Nope. I ran into an old friend today. My best friend, actually. From when I was your age. I thought she’d never talk to me again. But she did.”
Tara’s eyes widen. “Polly?”
Her mom nods. “Yup. I’m going to show her the new house today.”
“That’s so great,” Tara says, beaming.
“I’ll have to work hard to earn her trust back, but at least she’s letting me try.” Then she glances at us in the rearview mirror. “So, what did you guys do today?”
No one rushes to answer her. I feel like I should say something so as not to be rude, but somehow the words We went back in time four years, met one of our best friends when she was nine, stopped a kid from blowing out his sister’s candles, which somehow made her grow four inches, and then landed on a trampoline have trouble leaving my mouth.
“Nothing much,” Tara finally says. “Oh, we had pizza!”
Mrs. Brennan slows down, then pulls over to the curb and stops the car.
“Um, my house is still a few blocks away,” Rory says.
Mrs. Brennan turns so she’s facing all of us. “Did Tara tell you what I did when I was a little older than you guys?”
Surprised at her question, we all shake our heads.
“Mom!” Tara says. “Can we talk about this later?”
Her mother thinks for a minute. “All right, then, I’ll just say this. I know when Angelina D’Angelo is involved with something. I can smell it.”
Leo sniffs under his arms. “You can?”
I elbow him in the ribs.
“Okay, not literally,” she says. “But I can sense it. I think anyone who has had dealings with her in the past can recognize others caught in the middle of it.”
We all nod in agreement. Amanda and I had seen it in Rory last year, and this summer we all saw it in Tara. I lean forward in my seat. “You knew her when you lived here?”
She nods. “And then after I left, too. It may start out with her trying to help, but I fear the only person Angelina’s really looking out for is herself.”
Wow. I may not always be Angelina’s biggest fan, but generally I think her heart is in the right place. Tara’s mom must have had a really hard time. No wonder Tara hasn’t wanted to talk about it yet. If ever.
“Mom, we’re just trying to help a friend,” Tara says. “It’s almost over.”
“You might be right, Tara,” her mom says. “But trust me, Angelina only lets you see what she wants you to see, and it’s never the whole picture.”
“You said it, sistah,” Rory says as the rest of us nod in agreement. Seemingly satisfied, Mrs. Brennan continues the drive to Rory’s house. But her warning echoes in my ears the rest of the day.
“I feel good about this,” Leo says as we walk down the street toward Grace’s house. “I think this is our last trip back.”
“I hope you’re right.” The street is quiet in the middle of the day, which is always helpful when you’re about to vanish. Grace’s fifth birthday party was held in her backyard, and it took repeated viewings of the video to figure out a halfway decent excuse for us to be there. The video didn’t reveal how or why Connor happened to wind up on top of the cake, but it did show him being sent to his room to “think about what he’d done.”
Basically, our plan is to wait for the pizza delivery guy to arrive. When he does, we’ll give him ten bucks to let us bring the pizza around to the party in the backyard. We don’t have much of a plan after that, but at least it gets us there.
“It seems like we only get to be alone together when we go back in time,” Leo says. “I mean, I like our friends, of course, but I like being alone with you more.” He reaches for my hand. We haven’t held hands in a few days and I’m afraid it’s going to feel weird, but it doesn’t. It feels nice.
“Kylie told me no one stays with their first boyfriend,” I blurt out.
He frowns. “How would Kylie know that?”
I shrug. “She’s had a lot of boyfriends. I guess you learn stuff.”
“We’ll have to prove her wrong, then.” He grips my hand even tighter.
We’re still a few minutes early and don’t want to risk Connor or his parents noticing us and inviting us inside. “Over there,” Leo says, pointing to a bench on the side of a house across the street. “We should still be close enough to the party to slip back in time when it starts.”
He was right. I know this because less than a minute after we sit down, the bench disappears beneath us and we fall right onto our butts. Five seconds after that, a stream of water from a nearby sprinkler hits us both directly in the face. Rory and Tara would have loved it.
I sputter and crawl out of the way before the sprinkler can swing back around and get us again. Leo crawls over to me. “Guess that bench wasn’t here six years ago.”
“Guess not,” I reply, wiping my face with my sleeve. “Think we’ll laugh about this someday?”
“I’m already laughing on the inside,” he says, wiping his check with his hand. He only succeeds in making it messier by smearing mud on his nose. I can’t help laughing as I do my best to clean him up with my shirt. He does the same for me. By the time the pizza delivery car pulls up at the curb, we’re as presentable as we’re gonna get. “Showtime,” Leo says, pulling me up.
The delivery guy is lifting a pile of pizza boxes off of his passenger seat when we arrive at his side. “Hi,” I say with a little wave. “Can we, um, help with those?” Leo holds out the ten-dollar bill. The guy looks from the money to the receipt taped to the top box in the pile and then at us. “The bill is for sixty-four dollars,” he says, holding out his hand.
Leo lays the ten on the guy’s palm. “How about we give you this, and you let us carry the boxes to the backyard.”
The guy shrugs and stuffs the bill in his pocket. “Whatever floats your boat.” He hands me two boxes and Leo three, leaving his own arms free. He swings them and whistles as we all trudge to the backyard together.
The party is in full swing already. Tables and chairs dot the lawn with a few umbrellas for shade. Kids splash and shout in wading pools, while the parents keep one eye on their kids and try to have a real conversation at the same time. This is the first of Grace’s parties where the parents of the kids attending it came, too. I guess because the kids are so young. At five, Grace is so cute I can’t even stand it.
“You can put those over here,” Mrs. Kelly instructs us, pointing to a long table draped with a pink-and-white-checkered tablecloth.
We lay the boxes on the table and back away while she pays the real delivery guy. Trying to blend into the crowd isn’t going to work. There’s no one between the ages of six and thirty except Connor and one other boy around the same age. The boy has spiky brown hair and is currently standing very close to his mom, who is talking with Mr. Kelly. We’d seen him in the video but hadn’t paid any attention, figuring he was a cousin or neighbor. But something about the way he’s squinting up at his mom while she’s talking feels familiar. I grip Leo’s arm. “That’s David!”
Leo takes a few steps closer to him. “You’re right! I bet he just moved here.”
We watch as Mr. Kelly waves for Connor to come join them.
“Let’s go eavesdrop!” Leo says.
Before I can stop him, he’s run across the yard and flattened himself against a tree. I sigh. Does he really think no one can see him now? I glance around to make sure Mrs. Kelly isn’t watching us, but she’s gone back into the house.
“I know Connor’s really excited that David will be in his class in the fall,” Mr. Kelly is saying. “He has a few friends but hasn’t really found a good friend yet.”
“Dad!” Connor whines, reddening.
“Don’t feel bad, Connor,” David says, stepping away a bit from his mom. “I don’
t have any friends here at all, so it’s not a big deal that you don’t have a good one.”
I’m not entirely sure I follow eight-year-old David’s logic, but I get that he’s trying to make Connor feel better. The two boys run off to play in the sprinkler and the grown-ups keep talking.
“My wife told me a bit about the situation with your husband being ill,” Mr. Kelly says. “Please let us know if there’s ever anything we can do. David’s welcome to stay here anytime you want to go visit your husband at the clinic.”
“Thank you,” she says. “I may take you up on that in a few weeks. As for now, we’re just getting used to the new house. It’s been a big move for David, a lot to adjust to at once.”
“How did you choose Willow Falls? It’s not very close to anything.”
“There were definitely towns closer to Phil’s clinic,” she says, “but his side of the family has roots here. His great-grandfather was one of the first settlers, even before Willow Falls was a real town. They didn’t live here very long, perhaps a decade or so before moving out west. Phil had always hoped to bring his family back one day.” Her voice cracks on the last few words and Mr. Kelly puts his hand on her arm to comfort her.
“I’m sure he’s happy that you and David are here now,” he says.
She nods but doesn’t try to say anything else. Mrs. Kelly comes out with piles of paper plates and napkins, and calls out, “Everyone find a seat for pizza!”
I pull Leo away from the tree and around to the side of the house, where there’s a thick row of large bushes. “We really should stay out of the way until it’s cake time,” I remind him. “Then if we can’t find a better way to stop Connor, we’ll just have to tackle him and run.” Not our best plan, but at least it’s bound to work.
He nods and I ask him, “Did you know that stuff about David’s dad?”
“Not all of it. If it’s so hard for him to talk about it now, imagine what it must have been like when he was this age.”
“I’ve been thinking about it. If we’re in the past now, then that means the past still exists, like it never really went away.”
He thinks for a minute. “I know what you mean. If the past is still here, do you think the future is here, too?”
“I don’t know, maybe. I’d rather believe we make our own futures depending on what we do in the present. Even though right now for us the past IS the present and the present is the future and —”
Leo smiles. “Now you’re getting too deep for me. Let’s go where we can see the yard better.”
We move a little closer and position ourselves at an angle where someone would have to be looking directly at us to spot us through the branches. It’s fun watching David and Connor joking around and eating pizza like old friends instead of brand-new ones. Soon lunch is being cleared and the little kids are up and running again. “It’s almost time,” Leo says. “We need to get closer again, but they’re gonna see us.”
“I have an idea. We can tell them that when we were delivering the pizza, I dropped a bracelet or my phone in the grass and is it okay if we look for it?”
“Works for me.”
“Which, bracelet or phone?”
He shrugs. “Whatever comes out of your mouth when you get there.”
“Me? Can’t you do it? You’re a better liar than I am.”
“That’s not really a compliment, but fine.” He stands up and gestures for me to follow. “Come on, Amy, let’s go get that third check mark and free Grace.”
“You got it, Leon.” We high-five and I follow him out onto the lawn, pretending like I’m searching the grass. We don’t get too far before Connor’s grandfather appears before us. “Can I help you find something, young lady?” he asks in his rolling Irish accent.
Leo and I both instinctively duck our heads. The only time we’ve spoken to him was outside Mr. McAllister’s Magic Castle Birthday Party Palace. He was nice enough, but I don’t want to make a habit of it.
I force myself to look up so I’m not being rude. He’s wearing the same hat that the bunny will chomp two years from now. “I, um, lost my bracelet,” I say at the same moment Leo decides to say, “She lost her phone.”
He looks from one of us to the other. “Which is it?”
“I lost both my bracelet and my phone,” I say, “when we were, um, delivering the pizza?”
“Right,” Leo says. “So we’ll just look around for them, if that’s okay.”
We try to step around him, but he moves into our path. “I believe I might have seen the items you’re looking for,” he says.
“You have?” I ask, not expecting that response.
He nods. Up close I can see he’s sweating a little around his forehead. He must be hot in that hat.
“I believe I saw them on the counter in the powder room. Might you have left them there?”
“That means bathroom,” Leo tells me.
“I know what it means! Honestly, we’re in all the same classes!”
“Let me show you,” Connor’s grandfather says. He puts his hands on our backs and walks us toward the house. I can see to my right that the cake is being set out on the long table. A glance to the left finds Connor playing catch with David.
“We can check it out later, after the party ends,” Leo says. “We don’t want to be in the way.”
“It’s no trouble,” he says, pushing open the sliding glass door that leads inside. We pass through the kitchen until we reach a small bathroom off the living room. “I’d look around in there,” he says.
We dutifully step inside.
“Thieves!” he shouts. “I saw you lurking in the bushes!”
We are both too shocked to reply. I open my mouth to speak, but he slams the door in our faces. Then before we can even think to move, he locks it behind him.
What kind of bathroom has a lock on the outside? We’ve tried pounding on the door, yanking the doorknob off, and are now trying to break the small window above the toilet. Leo has his hand wrapped up in a towel. I stand back while he punches the glass.
“OW!!!” He clutches his hand.
“Are you okay?”
He unwraps the towel and slowly flexes his fingers. “I guess nothing’s broken. That looks a lot easier in the movies.”
“Can you see what’s going on out there?”
He nods and holds his hand out to help me up. We both squeeze onto the top of the toilet seat and are just in time to see David throw a Nerf football to Connor. Five seconds later Connor’s shoulder is in the cake.
“Well, I guess we know how it happened now,” I say, unable to keep the defeated tone out of my voice.
We climb down. I lean against the counter to sulk, and Leo sits on the toilet. If there were a mirror in here, at least we could distract ourselves by checking out our current appearance. Who doesn’t hang a mirror in a bathroom? To lighten the mood, I say, “Hey, as far as we know, we could be circus folk. Like maybe I’m the bearded lady and you’re the tattooed man.”
“Could be,” Leo says. “It would explain that dude’s instant distrust of us.” He springs up and yanks on the doorknob again. “Okay. This is how I see it. For some reason, Connor and Grace’s grandfather thinks we’re trying to rob the place and will probably have the police here after the party’s over.” He checks his watch. “Which is ten minutes from now. Getting arrested would not be cool, but I’m more worried about our bodies being torn apart as we’re pulled forward in time from the wrong spot. We’ve always left the past a lot closer to where we entered it.”
He’s right. I shiver. Being torn into pieces is not at the top of my goals list.
But he’s not done. “Also, what happens after we reappear in our own time? What if someone is using this very bathroom? They would have a complete heart attack!”
“Oh, no! You’re totally right! It could be a parent or one of the doctors or anybody!” I pound on the door and shout, but everyone is still outside and the music is too loud, and all it does is hurt my knuckle
s. “I wish we could call Future Connor and give him a good reason why no one should use their downstairs bathroom.” I pull out my phone but of course it says, NO CELLULAR SERVICE. This phone was only registered two years ago, and my phone number didn’t exist yet. I hold it up to show Leo the message. “It’s not like I could really call into the future anyway.”
“But wait,” he says. “Just because the phone doesn’t work, the Internet still might!” He takes my phone and checks the settings. Sure enough, KELLYRED pops right up on the list of wireless networks. “Too bad we can’t send an email five years into the future!”
“We can!”
Leo looks skeptical. “How?”
“Kylie did this project for school last year where she had to write a list of goals and then send them in an email to her future self! She only had to send hers a few months ahead, but it worked.”
“How did she do it?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Do a search for how to send email to the future.”
He still looks skeptical, but types it in. “Hey, there’s actually a whole bunch of them!” He clicks on the first link and the page opens. “Tara or Rory?”
I give him a look.
“Right, Tara.” He passes me the phone. “You’re a faster typer.”
I fill in Tara’s email address and then write, Tara, it’s Amanda from the past. Long story, but we’re locked in the bathroom by the kitchen in Connor’s house. Please call him with some excuse about why he has to make sure no one uses the bathroom by the kitchen. Tell him Leo clogged it up or something.
“Gee, thanks,” he says, reading over my shoulder.
I schedule delivery for right after the party started, giving her time to spare in case she can’t find him right away. I hit SEND and say a little prayer to the Internet gods that this website is still working in five years and that it gets sent out.
“Now we just have to hope we don’t get arrested first!” Leo says with a grimace. He climbs back up to stare out the window.
I can’t help it, I start to giggle.
“What’s funny?” he asks without turning around.