Page 78 of Campus Fake

I looked over at Harry, whose eyes were still firmly on the road.

And for a split second, I was seventeen again.

Sitting in the passenger seat, music blaring through the speakers and feeling so happy my body almost couldn’t contain it. Looking at the person driving and thinking that life couldn’t possibly get better than this exact moment.

The thought brushed through me so fast I almost missed it. A whisper of déjà vu, gone before I could grab it. A flicker of something cold beneath all the warmth.

I brushed it aside and focused on living in the present. Enjoying this moment of peace.

We exited the highway and were making our way through town, taking the route we always took home. I was still singing, my eyes on Harry as we rolled through an intersection on a green light.

I never saw the other car.

There was no warning. One second I was looking at the man I loved, and the next, the world exploded.

And the sound of metal shrieking against metal, glass shattering, and tires screeching was all too familiar. The seatbelt locked hard across my chest and slammed me back, and my head snapped sideways and connected with something hard.

My brain fractured. I wasn’t here anymore. I was in two places at once—this car, that car five years ago—and the overlap was so complete that I couldn’t separate them. Harry’s voice was somewhere, calling my name or maybe just shouting, but it was muffled like it was coming from underwater, or from another timeline entirely.

I couldn’t reach it. I couldn’t reach anything.

Something warm and wet slid down my face, but I couldn’t move my hands to wipe it away. I felt frozen in my body, my mind playing games on me. Had I fallen asleep? Was this real? This couldn’t be real.

No.

No, no, no.

This couldn’t happen again.

I tried to turn my head. Tried to see Harry. Tried to make sure he was still there, still breathing, still alive, because the last time I’d been in a car that sounded like this the person next to me had⁠—

The thought wouldn’t finish. My brain refused to complete it.

The car had stopped moving, and the world was tilting at an angle that didn’t make sense. I could hear something but it was fading. Everything was fading. The edges of my vision went gray, then dark, closing in from the sides like a curtain being drawn.

I tried to say his name. Harry. It formed in my mouth but I didn’t know if it made it out.

And then the world went black.

THIRTY-SEVEN

Everything was upside down. The seatbelt was cutting into my chest, my arms were hanging beneath me, and for a fraction of a second, my brain couldn’t make sense of any of it. Then the windshield came into focus, and everything clicked into place with a sickening lurch.

I turned my head toward the passenger’s side, and my stomach nearly revolted at the impact my car had taken on her side. “Sam—Sam, talk to me.”

She didn’t answer. Her eyes were closed and her head was hanging limp against the seatbelt, blonde hair falling toward the roof beneath her. I said her name again. Louder. She still didn’t move.

Fuck.

I needed to get out of this car. I braced one hand against the roof—which was now the floor—and unhooked my seatbelt with the other. The drop was only a few inches, but the impact sent pain shooting up my shoulder. I ignored it and crawled through the shattered driver’s side window, glass biting into my palms and forearms as I pulled myself free.

My phone was still in my pants pocket, and I had it in my hand dialing 911 before I was fully upright.

The other car was somewhere off to my right—I caught the shape of it in my periphery, up on the curb, but I couldn’t focus on it long enough to register more than that. I should check on them. I knew that. But I couldn’t do anything until I knew Sam was okay.

I crouched next to the passenger side and put the phone on speaker.

“911, what’s your emergency?”