Again, But Better(82)

“Are you okay?” I hear Sahra ask.

My head snaps up. Babe’s fork hovers over her lasagna. Sahra’s waiting for an answer. Pilot’s staring at my closed hand.

“Shane?” Pilot repeats more forcefully.

I bound out of my seat and break into a run. A second later, I’m outside, boots slamming against the cobblestones, sprinting back up through the ruins.

What in the hell am I doing?

I run until I’m far enough away that I feel confident in my solitude, then I veer off toward one of the massive ancient structures along the trail. A plethora of steps lead up into an expanse of crumbly archways. I clamber all the way to the top step and drop to the ground in a heap, breathing hard.

Slowly, I peel back my trembling fingers.

In my palm sits a thick, round silver locket. I’ve been gripping it so tightly, there’s an imprint on my skin. The bottom of it is flat, but the top’s rounded. The inscription’s on the flat side; it circles around in a spiral formation. I wipe away remnants of sauce and cheese with my hands and shine the silver clean against my black shirt. I hold it up for examination, slowly rotating the piece to read the inscription.

Open and press upon the heart

You’ll return to the start

The adventure gained will be lost

Every shortcut has its cost.


I turn it over. The front’s plain silver. It looks like it belongs on a necklace.

“Shane!” Pilot jogs toward me up the stairs. I tense as he comes to a stop a few steps away. He’s shed his jacket, now sporting today’s green-and-black plaid button-up.

“What happened?” he asks, catching his breath. “Is that it?”

I nod. He sags in relief, stumbling up the final few steps to sit beside me. Stones crunch under his sneakers as he leans forward and settles his elbows on his knees.

“Okay,” he resolves after a moment. “Let’s do it, then. Press it.”

I look down, my hand closing back over the medallion.

“I…” I trail off, feeling childish.

“You what?” he prompts.

Dread. Anxiety. Fear. They balloon in my chest, making it hard to breathe. I don’t want to. I don’t think I want to go back.

“I don’t know,” I whisper.

“What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I just—don’t,” I finish lamely.

“You don’t want to push it?” Bits of frustration leak into his voice. “Shane, why would you want to stay here? You want to redo a whole year and a half of college and then four years of med school?”

No, no, I don’t. But I don’t want to go back. Not yet.

“Why do you want to go back so badly?” The words reluctantly twist their way out of me.

“Are you kidding?” he asks in disbelief. “Haven’t we already been through this?”

I shift to face him, expression hardening. “Have we? I remember you going off on me out on the street for quote ‘disrupting your life,’ but we never really talked about why we’re here. Do you really think we both would have been chucked back in time to the very same moment if we both didn’t want, and/or need, to be here?”

He glares at me. I glare right back. Frustration pulses in the space between us. I stand up. He joins me a moment later.

“There’s a part of you that wanted to come back. Your whole ‘I brought us here’ theory, that’s bullshit. We brought us here. I’m not ready to go yet.” I spin in an angry circle, throwing my hands up and letting them fall to my sides. “Are you living your best life? What are you dying to go back to? Your job? Amy?”

He squeezes his eyes shut for a second. “Why are you dying to stay? Are you that afraid to break up with your boyfriend?” he blurts.

“Are you?” I growl.

“What?” he shoots back in confusion.

“Clear this up for me: Our first day here, we went on that walk together, you remember?”

Pilot’s lips grind together in annoyance. “Please, just hand over the button, Shane.”

“Do you remember?” I repeat.

More glaring.

“We almost kissed that first night, and you said nothing about a girlfriend. We talked for over an hour by ourselves, and then we stayed up with the rest of the flat playing games and you said nothing.

“We were together the entire next day, you said nothing. We went out together again the day after that and you said nothing. It wasn’t till that night that Atticus, not you, brought up the fact that you had a girlfriend at all! And when we were surprised, you said you’d only been dating for three months, that you were going to see what happened! Who says they’re going to see what happens when they’re in love with the person they’re seeing?” I yell the last few words.

His expression goes blank. “You’re making a scene, Shane.”

“What happened to seeing what happened? Did something change? Six years later, are you guys in love yet?”

His lips twitch.

“We have a reset button that will erase this and bring us back to the point where we started. A literal fail-safe switch. Why would we use it already? We get a second chance to do life, and we’re going to waste it five days in? What are you so afraid of? Take a risk, Pilot! Make a change! Break awa—”