Until We Meet Again(71)

Maybe there’s a chance I can make this right.

“A drive where?” I ask cautiously.

“Does it matter?”

“I suppose it doesn’t, provided we avoid dark alleys and abandoned warehouses.”

Brandon maintains his stone expression and walks away.

Tossing a nervous glance at the back door, I discretely text

Mom and follow him.

For the first seven minutes of the drive—I watch each one

pass on the dashboard clock—neither of us speaks. Then I stare

at the tailored lawns and summer trees rolling past in a green

blur. The thoughts in my head seem to be passing in a similar

way. What do I say to Brandon? How am I supposed to make

this better? He saw what he saw. I can’t feed him some line and

pretend that he didn’t. He needs some kind of explanation.

Trouble is, when I think about it, there are very few ways I can

envision this going well.

“Brandon…”

His gaze cuts to me, sharp and yet full of an unreadable emotion. Fear? Anger? I can’t say.

“I want answers, Cass.”

“I know.”

Brandon waits. “Well, what in the hell happened back there?”

I’m tempted to gaslight him, to pretend that I didn’t see anything, that he’s crazy. But my instincts scream out that if I do, he’ll go searching for proof of his claims. Besides, Brandon

deserves the truth. All things considered, he’s not a bad guy.

Had this summer gone differently, he and I could have been

friends. Maybe even more. It may be the biggest risk I’ve ever

taken, but somehow, deep down, I know I need to be honest.

“Pull over,” I say, setting my hand on Brandon’s arm.

He hesitates but parks his car on the side of the road. The

ocean glows in the early evening sun just beyond the bluff,

strengthening me.

“Logic is going to resist what I’m about to tell you, Brandon.

You’re not going to believe it. You’re not going to want to

believe it. But you have to trust what you saw. Hold on to that.

It was real. You’re weren’t imagining it.”

“Enough. Tell me what I saw.”

I steady my voice. “You were right. Lawrence isn’t from

around here. Well, he is. But not in the way you’d think. He’s

from a different Crest Harbor. One that existed…in nineteen

twentyfive.”

Brandon’s eyes narrow slightly, but his gaze stays on me.

“I know this going to sound insane. Trust me, I struggled

with it a lot at first. I still have to be convinced of it sometimes. But Lawrence is from nineteen twentyfive. He lives in the same house I’m living in now, only almost a hundred years

in the past. And for some reason, which neither of us can figure

out, I can see him on that beach.”

More silence.

“The beach is the only place though. That’s why he disappeared as he walked back to the house. He goes back into nineteen twentyfive. That’s what you saw.”

Brandon shakes his head slightly, anger flaring in his cheeks.

“I’m not stupid, Cass.”

“I know you’re not. That’s why I’m being honest with you.”

“I’m not stupid!” He slams both hands on the steering wheel.

“Then believe me.”

Brandon huffs. Then shaking his head again, he revs the

engine to a start.

“I told you it would be hard to believe, but that doesn’t mean

it isn’t the truth.”

He jams the car into gear and spins it back onto the road, the

wheels screeching in protest.

“If you give me some time, I’ll tell you everything I know.”

The car burns back down the street. Brandon radiates fury. I

anticipated this reaction, but he’s headed back to my house. Is

he going to tell my mom everything I just said? I need time to

get him on my side.

“Give me a chance to prove it to you, at least,” I say.

Whitehot silence.

“It doesn’t make any sense to me either, okay? But it is what

it is. I can’t change the facts to make them more believable.”

I can’t handle his wordless rage right now. I can’t handle any

of it. It’s all too much. I wish I was back in Nowhere, Ohio,

wondering what college I’ll go to and what I want to be when

I grow up.

“Are you going to tell my mom I’m insane?” I ask, tears stinging

my eyes. “Are you going to turn me in to the police or something?”

In response, Brandon pushes down on the accelerator.

“Do whatever you want, okay?” I snap. “At this point, I don’t

even care.”

The sandcastle Lawrence and I have been living in is

finally toppling beneath the wave of reality. We couldn’t

keep this secret forever. Brandon will march and tell Mom,

who will drag me to some nice shrink, and Lawrence will

die on that beach tomorrow. Brandon pulls the car up my