I'll Stop the World (97)

“It’s important,” Rose insisted, not caring that she was being rude. She’d spent months walking on eggshells in order to not get in the way of his relationship with Steph. But he’d been her best friend first, and she was tired of feeling like last week’s leftovers with every important person in her life. She mattered, no matter what Justin said.

“Please, Noah,” she added quietly, unable to completely smooth out the slight quiver in her voice.

He stared at her for a second, looking conflicted, then turned to Steph. “I’m really sorry, but I need to go. Rain check?”

Rose pretended she didn’t see the hurt expression flicker across Steph’s face before she nodded. “Sure. No problem,” she said with a too-bright smile. Her eyes shifted to Rose. “I hope everything’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Rose said impatiently, giving Noah an imploring look as he pulled on his shoes. She knew she should probably be nicer to Steph, but just then, she couldn’t bring herself to put in the effort.

She looked away as Noah gave Steph a quick kiss goodbye—just a peck, she noticed—and led him to her car.

“Whoa,” Noah exclaimed, his hand scrambling for the bar above the door as she pulled out of the driveway and into the street so fast the tires squealed against the pavement. He turned in his seat to look at her. “You were really rude back there.”

She shrugged. “I’ll apologize later.”

He shook his head, frowning. “What is going on with you? And where are we going?”

That was a good question. She hadn’t really thought that far ahead. Her only thought when she’d left Justin on the side of the road was that she was done wasting time. That led her to Noah’s house. Beyond that, she wasn’t sure.

She wound up driving them to the school parking lot, which was mostly empty, save a few cars clustered around the gym entrance. The sign in front of the school wished the football team luck in their away game, so the cars probably belonged to football players, cheerleaders, and band kids who had shown up earlier to load the buses. They wouldn’t be back for hours.

Even so, Rose parked far away from the empty cars. No one would overhear them, but she still wanted to be as isolated as possible for this conversation.

The conversation that she had never intended on having. Until suddenly, she did.

“I have some things to tell you,” she started, turning off the ignition and shifting in her seat so she was facing him. “They’re going to sound a little . . . insane, but I just need you to believe me. Even though you’re not going to want to. Okay?”

“Okay.” His answer came without hesitation, despite his bemused expression.

Rose took a deep breath, steeling her nerves, and then the whole story came pouring out. How Justin wasn’t really her pen pal, but someone she’d nearly run over the night of the bonfire. His insistence that he was from the future, and his knowledge about what was going to happen tomorrow. Her theory about why he was here. Their efforts to figure out who had started the fire at Mrs. Hanley’s, and the discovery that it was Karl Derrin. Justin’s realization that he was really Stan, a man he knew from his time as an angry surrogate-uncle figure, which meant he was destined to never make it back. Their fight over what to do with that information.

“That was right before I went to your house,” Rose finished. “I felt like it was time you knew everything. I should’ve told you earlier. I’m sorry.”

She’d been mostly staring out the windshield as she talked, too nervous to watch his face as he took in everything she was telling him. After the things Justin had said to her, she didn’t think she could bear to watch someone else she cared about look at her like she was delusional.

Now she dared a peek, and wished she hadn’t. He was staring at her with his brow furrowed and lips pursed, his body tensed like he was afraid she might suddenly attack him, or maybe rip out her hair and start howling at the moon.

“You think I’m crazy,” she said, her heart sinking.

“No,” he said without hesitation. “I would never think that. It’s just . . .” His jaw moved far more than was necessary to form those few syllables. “This is a lot to process. I need a minute.”

“Do you believe me, though?”

He hesitated before answering. “I believe that you believe you’re telling me the truth,” he said finally.

Her stomach tightened. “That’s not the same thing.”

He sighed. “I don’t know what you expect me to say, Rose. I mean . . . time travel?”

“You promised you’d believe me.”

“I thought you were going to tell me that, I don’t know, your dad was working for the mafia or you’d started dealing drugs or something. Something that was far-fetched but at least possible. But this . . . Rose, time travel doesn’t exist.”

“You think I don’t know that? I would’ve said that, too, a week ago. I’m not telling you this because I want to believe it. I’m telling you this because it’s true.”

Noah took off his glasses and placed them on the dashboard, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How can you know for sure, though? Did he like . . . predict anything to prove to you he’s from the future?”

“He knew Michael McMillain was going to be fired.”