I'll Stop the World (96)

“Maybe he never got back because when he got to the point where you are now, where he realized that he is you, he gave up.”

“But he didn’t give up. I’ve seen the murder wall. It took over his whole life.”

“Yeah, but he tried to solve it after the fire. I’m saying, what if he gave up trying to solve it before?”

“It doesn’t matter. If there was anything else to do, I’m sure he would’ve thought of it.”

“I’m not saying it’s going to be easy or obvious. I’m just saying, you don’t know for sure what he did once he reached this point. You only know what he did later. These next twenty-four hours are a big question mark. Maybe—”

“Just stop,” I say, unable to stomach another second of her relentless optimism. “Isn’t it obvious by now? You were wrong. I don’t matter; you don’t matter; none of this matters. There isn’t meaning in everything, there isn’t some grand master plan, and the universe does not give a shit about either one of us. Maybe I’m not dead, but this is hell, and it’s time we both just admitted it.”

“Justin, you don’t mean—”

“Shut up.” My face is hot, my eyes burning. “Don’t tell me what I mean; don’t tell me what to do; don’t tell me anything. I should never have listened to you. I wish I’d never even met you.”

Rose’s mouth drops open, her face crumpling.

The instant the words leave my mouth, part of me wishes I could take them back. I’m stuck in this nightmare for the rest of my life, and I just torpedoed the one good thing about it.

But frustration and anger keep my lips pressed together, my eyes narrow. Maybe it’s not fair, but I just need her to feel what I’m feeling for once. I need to not be alone in this fear and rage and despair. I need someone to share this absolutely shitty, hopeless feeling with me, because it’s too much for me to handle by myself.

No wonder Stan was alone his whole life. We truly are the world’s worst human.

“You know what?” she growls through gritted teeth. Her jaw works furiously as she straightens her shoulders. “I wish I’d never met you either. You’ve made it clear that caring about what happens to you is a waste of my time.”

She starts toward her car, and abruptly, my need to push her away dissipates, replaced by a desperate need for her to stay. I wish I could wind back the last twenty seconds. Doesn’t seem like a huge ask after accidentally winding back thirty-eight years, but time continues to march stubbornly forward. “Rose, wait—”

“No, you wait,” she says, spinning so fast she sends me stumbling backward. “I don’t matter? If it weren’t for me, you’d probably have been in jail all week, or do you not recall how you nearly managed to get yourself arrested thirty seconds after arriving here? I’m the one who found you a place to stay. And I’m the one who’s been here with you every single day trying to save your grandparents. Maybe it can’t be done, but I’d rather try and fail than be like you.”

I blink, stunned. I’ve never seen this version of Rose before. I didn’t even know this version existed.

“You know what? Do what you want. I’m done with this.” Rose throws up her hands in frustration as she stomps back to her car.

“Rose, I’m sorry.” I trail behind her, giving her plenty of space in case she starts breathing fire again. Panic is beginning to bubble up inside me at the realization that I’m about to be abandoned to a life stuck in the past, all alone. And it’s all my fault. “I didn’t mean it,” I plead. “I was just really upset.”

Unbidden, Alyssa’s voice pipes up in my head. Sometimes even the most justifiable of excuses is still not an actual excuse.

Oh god. Alyssa. I’d thought the worst thing about all this was the possibility of never seeing her again, but it turns out I was wrong. The worst thing is going to be seeing her again as Stan.

Rose turns to look at me as she reaches her car. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say to me?”

I spread my hands in bewilderment. “I said I’m sorry. I don’t know what else you want from me.”

“Never mind.” She shakes her head, disgust evident on her face. “Don’t call me again.” She gets in and slams the door, and a second later, the engine growls to life.

I start to walk around to the passenger side, but she glares at me through the windshield and I stop.

Seriously, she’s leaving me here? “How am I supposed to get back to Mrs. Hanley’s?” I ask.

“Figure it out,” she calls, her voice muffled by the windows.

And then she’s gone.

I’ve spent a lot of time by myself since falling into 1985. I’m used to it. But this is different.

For the first time, I’m truly alone.





Chapter Fifty-Eight


ROSE

“Can we talk? In private?” The words were out of her mouth before she registered that Noah wasn’t the only one standing in the doorway. Steph hovered behind him in an oversize sweatshirt that Rose recognized as one of Noah’s. Steph had cut the neckline wide, so that it hung off one shoulder.

So she was wearing his clothes now. Awesome.

“Um,” Noah said, his eyes flitting to the side, like he was trying to spin them around to the back of his head in order to gauge Steph’s reaction to Rose’s sudden presence on his doorstep. “Now’s not a great time . . .”