A World Without You(39)

When we pull away, she has a love-drunk look in her eyes, and I almost kiss her again. But I’m not sure how long this will last.

“When you see me again after break?” I say. “Don’t mention this.”

If Sofía talks about seeing me when we’re both back at school, then past-me will know that future-me came back, which didn’t happen in my past, and . . . time travel is confusing.

“I won’t,” she says. “But why did you come back here, then, if we’re going to pretend like it didn’t happen?”

“Because I need to know it did,” I say before I can stop myself. I feel a lurch in my stomach. Time is warning me. I can’t get too close to the truth.

Sofía frames my face with her hands. “What’s wrong?”

“I just . . .” I run my fingers through my hair and step back. I can’t think when she touches me; I can’t think of anything at all but the way she feels.

“Yes?” she asks. She sits down on her bed, bouncing softly, and I’m distracted again.

“This is . . . this is real, isn’t it?” I say. I reach her bed in two strides and grab her hand, squeezing it. “This is real. You are real. You’re really here, and I’m really here. I can travel through time, and you . . .”

Sofía smiles, letting her face disappear. “This is real,” she says while still invisible. Her lips appear in a Cheshire cat grin, and then the rest of her, and she stands up again and kisses me. “And so is this.”





CHAPTER 24




I want to tell her everything. But “everything” is too close to the truth I can’t tell her—that I’ve left her in the past, that I think Dr. Franklin’s given up on helping me save her, that the school is under investigation, and it’s all my fault.

Instead, I tell her that I’ve seen some videos that make it look as if we don’t have powers. That the Doctor has said and done things that make me question whether or not he’s really our friend.

“The Doctor’s good,” Sofía says immediately.

“I used to think so,” I say, my voice trailing off.

She shakes her head. “We can’t start doubting everyone. The Doctor’s good.”

“But—”

“It sounds as if someone is altering your perception of reality,” Sofía continues. “Someone’s making you question what’s real and what’s not. They’re putting false images in your head. If that’s the case, the first thing whoever’s doing this is going to want is for people to turn away from the Doctor. Create chaos. Create doubt. Make us question not only reality, but each other.”

I think of the videos I watched. I know none of that happened. I nod slowly, agreeing with her. But if the Doctor’s not the one altering the videos, then who—

The officials. When they came, everything started falling apart. One of them—Dr. Rivers or Mr. Minh, or maybe both—they can alter the way we see things. The way we think, what we believe.

My mind churns with possibilities. Ryan was right to be suspicious. Dr. Rivers and Mr. Minh are trying to confirm our powers so they can use them. In my glimpses of the future in the timestream, I saw experiments and abuse: Gwen chained to a wall and Harold locked in a cell as men in lab coats tried to take them apart and see how they ticked. In those scenarios, I’d thought that the government officials were merely the spies who informed on us, but if they have powers too, like the ability to alter our perception of reality . . . then it’d be much easier to break down our resolve, to get us to turn on the Doctor and join them, to get us to do things for them.

“But Bo,” Sofía says, her voice small. “That’s not the only reason why you’re here, is it?”

I look up at her, and all my questions fall away.

There’s fear in her eyes. “You’ve never tried to visit me before, on your own. You could have just called me today, but instead, you’re here.”

“I’m here,” I repeat, as much for my sake as hers.

“Is something wrong?”

I want to answer her. But I can feel time tugging at my navel, pulling me back, forcing me into silence. “I’m sorry,” I get out, just before time snaps me back to the present.

I grip the cloth of my duvet cover. She was right there. I can still smell her shampoo.

And now she’s gone. Or, rather, I am. I left her in the past, not the other way around.

My phone buzzes, and I flip it over, reading the text message on the screen.

You throw that thing away? Ryan asks.

I look at my computer. The drive is still sticking out of the port.

Yeah, I text back.

I wonder how far his powers reach, if he can tell that I’m lying all the way from where he is.

? ? ?

I ask Dad to take me back to Berkshire early, and he agrees to drive up with me instead of going to church. After our fight yesterday, I think he’s glad to get rid of me. Mom doesn’t like it, but she doesn’t protest that much.

“But Phoebe didn’t get a chance to have a family dinner with you this weekend,” she says in a petulant tone. “Let’s wait until brunch.”

“I have a lot of work to do,” I say. “And we have next weekend.”