15 Minutes: A YA Time Travel Thriller (Rewind Series) (2 page)

This
man, this stranger I had expected to be my father, kisses my forehead and
smiles like he knows me, like he’s raised me. Vomit rises in my throat.

“I
have homework,” I say flatly. “When’s Mom getting home?”

He
checks his gold watch. He’s the image of perfection, from his expensive gray
suit down to his Italian shoes. I don’t know what his name is, but he’s
gorgeous, and I hate him. It’s his fault Dad is gone. I saved Mom for me and
Dad, not this guy, whoever the hell he is. He may as well be Satan as far as
I’m concerned. I will never accept him.

“Oh,
not for a few hours,” he answers. "Should be before you go to bed.
Everything okay?”

“Yeah,
I want to see her.”

“I’m
here if you need to talk.”

I
nod but can’t bring myself to say anything. I hate his sympathetic eyes. I run
up to my room, close the door, and lean against it. I close my eyes and take a
deep breath, and when I open them again I see a desk with a laptop on it.
Finally, something I recognize. I can search for my dad and Rick on the
internet, maybe piece together what happened.

The
laptop case is pink. Figures. But it’s also password protected. What would this
Lara’s password be? With a deep breath I type
Donovan,
and boom, I’m in.

The
background is a picture of me and a group of kids. We’re all sitting on a wall
at the beach wearing matching tops that seem to be volleyball team outfits. I
recognize them, but I don’t know them. Except for Donovan. There he is with his
arm swung around my shoulders and a dumb grin on his face.

Like
he loves me. Like he thinks he owns me.

Groaning,
I begin my search. I use WhitePages.com and find Rick easily. He hasn’t even
moved, but the search for my dad proves futile. I can’t find anything on him. I
bring up Google and type
John Crane
.
There are so many references from across the country I might as well be looking
for a Smith or a John Doe. But then I see a news article for Cambridge, Massachusetts
and I click on it. The screen flashes and redirects to another page.

Content blocked
.

My
jaw clenches. They have some sort of Net Nanny crap installed on my laptop. Dad
never did this to me. He always trusted me. He knew what kind of girl I was.

Grabbing
my sneakers from the bottom of the closet, I head back downstairs. My new dad
is sitting on the sofa with the twins and they are going over their homework
together. He throws a glance over his shoulder, and his eyebrows furrow. “Going
somewhere?”

“Yeah,
to find my real dad.” My cheeks burn hot and my nose flares.

He
stands and the air in the room tenses, contracting around us. The twins stop
their homework and look over.

“Where.
Is. He?” I cross my arms and stare him down, waiting for an answer.

His
eyes are angry but not unkind. “We’ve been over this, Lara. A million times. I
know you wish things were different. Why don’t we sit down in the kitchen? I’ll
make you some tea, and we’ll wait for your mother to come home.”

He
reaches for my elbow. His face is soft and understanding, but I want to wretch
all over his fine pressed suit. I yank my arm away and run from the house. His
footsteps rush behind me.

“Lara
Montgomery, get back here!”

I
never even look back.

It’s
about dinner time, so the subway is scattered with businessmen and teens
heading home. Signs plastered to the interior advertise Rewind.

Want to revisit your son’s birth?

Want to store the memory of your
wedding?

Join the Memory Bank program at Rewind!

Memory
Bank program?

Slouching
in my seat, I lurch to the side as the subway stops. The doors glide open, and
some people shuffle out while others shuffle in, including an old lady who
smiles at me.

I
try to return it but can’t.

I
thought I was ready. I thought I could deal with all the fallout, but this… I
wasn’t ready for this.

Rick
tried to warn me. He tried to tell me.

I
remember when we last sat in his room.

****

The
comforter is messy and littered with papers. Rick paces back and forth, his
hands clasped behind his back. He’s wearing a flannel shirt with dancing flames
on the shoulder. “What if you get caught?”

“I
won’t. I know what I need to do. I’ve been practicing my route.”

“That’s
why you’ve been out running? Training?”

Our
eyes lock, and I see desperation in his.

“When
you go back in time, you're a hologram. You know that, so how can you change
the past?” Rick says.

I
swallow hard. “When I went back on my birthday… I touched stuff while I was
there. I helped people. I know I can do this. I know.” I shrug. “I think I’m
special.”

Rick
crouches down in front of me, his soft brown hair falling against his brow. His
emerald eyes are alive with pain. His hands caress mine. “You know they monitor
things from the outside. If they catch any energy spikes or anomalies, they’ll
end your session, and you’ll be arrested. You know that interacting with the
past is against the law.”

Everyone
knows that. Under certain circumstances courts can grant the police the right
to go back in time and witness a crime. If that happens, I’m screwed. Lucky for
me that process is as exciting as watching grass grow.

“She’s
my mother,” my voice quivers. I close my eyes when he touches my cheek. “Ever
since the first time I went back on my birthday—I can’t stop thinking about
her, Rick.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

He
nuzzles my cheek, and I feel his warming breath against my skin. I’m safe,
comfortable.

“I
saw how she was with me,” I whisper, because if I have to be any louder I won’t
be able to go on. “I was a baby, and I saw how much she loved me. She sang to
me. My dad—-we were all so happy.” I shake my head. “That’s what I want. I need
that. He does too.”

Rick’s
eyes soften. “And if you’re successful, you know things will change.”

“Of
course I do. I’ll have my mom.”

“Not
that.” He glances away, pain etched on his face. “Your life will change. Our
life.”

My
brow furrows. “What are you trying to say?”

“What
if we don’t know each other anymore?
 
What if we lose each other?”

The
idea quickens my pulse. I brush his soft hair off his brow. “It won’t. Nothing
could change how I feel about you.”

Doubt
mars his face. I lean forward and brush my lips against his. Passion comes
quick as our lips part, searching each other. I wrap my arms around his neck as
he lifts his body onto the bed beside me. He kisses my jaw and rests his head
against mine.

“I
don’t want to lose our future, Lara. Are you willing to risk everything you
know for this?”

Rather
than answer him, I lay my head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around me.
I’m cocooned and safe.

Despite
it all, the answer is yes.

***

I never expected that to change.

It
was only the beginning. I had gotten away with changing the past physically,
but my heart was paying a hefty price.

The
subway lurches to a stop, and I step off onto the platform and head to Rick’s
apartment. In my old life, his parents would still be at work, and I hope that
holds true.

The
area he lives in was my home. On the corner, Marv the homeless man passes out
fliers. The steps are spray painted, and the streets are dirty and gritty.
Everything about my new life feels fake, but this feels real. Like home.

Kids
litter the crumbled steps going up to Rick’s apartment. I squeeze between them
and head up three flights of stairs to apartment 3B. The doorbell is broken, so
I rap the door with my knuckles and wait for him to answer. I lick my lips,
anticipation building in my belly like a hurricane.

The
door opens, but the chain remains latched. Rick’s eye peers at me with
suspicion. “Yeah?” There is no familiarity in his voice.

My
heart drops to my feet, and I find the will to answer. “I was wondering if I
could come in and we could talk? It’s me. Lara.”

“Lara Montgomery?” He’s on guard. Defensive.

I
want to scream that’s not my name, but instead I nod. “Yeah. I have a—I need to
talk to you.”

“Okay.”
His voice is uncertain. He closes the door, and the locks spin. “I don’t know
what you could want to talk to me about.”

Letting
me in, I notice he’s wearing his leather jacket and tight jeans. His hair is in
his face as usual, but I can read his curiosity in his posture and walk. He
leads me to the living room—cluttered, familiar. Like going home.

His
hands are in his pockets, and his eyes are intense, sizing me up. I have to
fight the instinct to fall into his arms and kiss him.

“This
is going to sound weird, but can you tell me what you know about me?”

Rick’s
eyes narrow. “Know about you?”

“Where
we met? When I moved. What I do at school. Anything you can think of.”

“Why?”
He scowls, pulling his eyebrows together. He doesn’t want to play along.

“I’m
having some problems.” I decide to be honest. “And I need, need to hear someone
say it.”

Something
in my voice gets through to him. His expression softens, and he takes his hands
out of his pockets. “We met at school. Kindergarten. You moved when your mom
remarried, all of which you know.”

“How
old was I?”

Rick
turns his head away with a grunt. “This is stupid.”

“How
old?” I push.

“Seven.
Eight. We were kids.”

“And?”

“
Annnd
you promised we’d always be friends, but you got the
fancy clothes, the big house. You’re in the 'it' clique, so yeah, we’re not
friends.” His eyes darken and his lips curve into a snarl. “You act like you
don’t even know me.”

I
sit down on the sofa and cover my mouth. We were priceless. How could that all
be gone, like in the blink of an eye?

“You
having some sort of mental break or something?”

I
shake my head. I can’t answer.

He
sits beside me and watches.

 
“Do you know what happened to my real father?
John Crane?”

“Don’t
you?” he counters. “Everyone knows.”

Rick
is studying me, and I can’t give anything away. My eyes dart away from his, but
then he touches my shoulder. I melt and my resolve fades.

“I’m
having … problems. I feel like I’m living someone else’s life. Like these
aren’t my clothes, those aren’t my friends. Like I’ve made a horrible mistake.”
I bite my lip and look away.

The
coffee table is littered with crap. A wallet. A belt. But no picture frames of
us like there was supposed to be. No smiles while stopping for ice cream. No
stupid orange teddy bear that I won for him at the fair.

“It’s
not your fault. Your mom remarried. Look, it’s no one’s fault you have the good
life now. I’d say you’re the lucky one.” I see bitterness in his eyes and the
cavern between us lengthens.

“At
least your family is still together.” I stare at my hands and see how perfect
my fingernails are. I hate my acrylic tips and want to tear them off.

“I
thought you liked Mr. Montgomery. You’ve always called him Dad.”

I
gawk at him as if he has two heads, and a rush of panic crashes through me. I
groan and grab my temples. My brain is on fire. I divert my eyes away, squeeze
them shut, and begin to experience a memory. But to me it’s brand new.

I’m
walking down an aisle in a white dress. My hair is up in a pink ribbon with
flower pins. I’m only a kid, and I’m smiling like a goober, tossing pink petals
from a small woven basket. Camera flashes blind me on either side. I look ahead
to the altar and see
Jax
Montgomery. He’s in a tux
with his hands clasped, and he winks at me. There’s something in his eyes.
Adoration. Pride. I’m happy. I can’t wait for Mom to say her vows. I can’t wait
for us to be a family.

The
memory fades like fog from a window. My eyes feel as if they’re exploding, and
I mash my palms against them. When I can open my eyes again I see Rick waiting
with a glass of water, which I accept.

He
watches me expectantly. I need to tell him something. I sip slowly, to bide my
time. Memories of my altered past bombard me, causing intense physical pain as
if my body is rejecting them. I’d been told repeatedly what the most important
time travel warning is.

Don’t change the past
.

I
knew the risk but took the gamble anyway. Time travel sickness is what they
call it. Didn’t even sound that bad, only something to warn you off, but I’m
beginning to think I bit off more than I could chew.

My
hands shake as he takes the glass back. “You’re not on drugs, are you? If you
are, you can leave right now.” His face hardens, but I understand his fear. His
brother was arrested for dealing drugs at a school and was still in prison.

Solemn,
I stare up into his eyes. “No. Promise. ” I try to laugh, but it gets stuck in
my throat. “Headaches. I’m okay now.”

His
eyes narrow on me. “No offense, but you’re way different than the last time we
talked. You’re like, a different person.”

Can
I trust him? I want to, but this Rick and I haven’t been friends in a long
time. There’s no telling if he will keep my secret or report me. I could spend
the rest of my life in jail or worse.

 
“You ever wonder what life would’ve been like
if I hadn’t moved away or become a Montgomery?”

He
offers a whimsical smile, progress. “Well sure, when I was little. I wondered
when you were going to stop by with your softball glove like you used to.” He
rubs his knee, and his expression grows serious. He’s about to tell me a
secret.

I
lick my lips in anticipation. I want to touch him, tell him he can trust me,
but I can’t.

“For
years I kept this stupid thing in a shoebox.” His tongue clicks against the
roof of his mouth, and his cheeks redden.

I
know what he’s thinking of because I remember it from the past we shared together,
when the stupid thing became the first symbol of our love.

“But
you moved away,” he continues. “I brought it to the wedding. I brought it to
the first year of junior high in case I saw you again, but things were
different, and I… never had the guts.”

“The
lollipop ring,” I say softly and watch his face fall and his eyes flicker with
anger.

Rick
pushes back, increasing the distance between us. “How did you … did my mom tell
you about it?”

“No.”
Anxiety builds in my chest, and I have no choice but to let it out. “You gave
it to me. When we were nine.”

Rick
shakes his head, adamant. “I didn’t. Never did. How did you—.”

“You did. In a different past. The one I remember. This
one, it’s all wrong, Rick.”

I touch his hand, run my fingers along his as we used to,
but he pulls away and is on the other side of the room in a flash. His fingers
are tangled in his hair, pushing it away from his eyes that flash unspoken
words about me.

I’ve scared him, and I want to make it right. I stand up,
but he holds his hands up to keep me at bay.

“I don’t know what you think you’re pulling, but I’ve had
enough. You think you can play me?” His face flushes as he glares.

“Rick—”

“You
gotta
go.” He yanks the
front door open, and the pictures on the walls rattle.

Twisting on my arches, I stare at him, but he won’t look at
me. “If you give me five minutes, I can explain. If you can have an open mind—”

“Now!” His eyes are trained at the wall, and his jaw
tenses. He needs time, but I am desperate for answers.

Backing through the door, I keep my eyes on his and I see
that he feels it. I wait for a sign, but the only one I get is a door slamming
in my face. I sigh and exit the apartment building.