Page 50 of Parallel

It hasn’t been far from my head either. “I’m finding it all a little hard to believe,” I reply. “I’m 28. It seems like any magical powers I have should’ve kicked in by now.”

“Rose said you might not even realize you’re doing it, though,” he counters.

I wave my hand at his words, shooing them away. “How could anyone not realize they were time traveling?”

He pushes up a bit, his elbow bent, his head supported by his forearm. I wonder if he has any idea just how good he looks like that. “You’ve been thinking you were dreaming all these times when you go back to see me, right?” he asks. “Have you ever dreamed something else and had it wind up coming true?”

I hesitate. Swallow down the crazy impulse to tell him things I swore as a child I’d keep to myself. “Yes, but everyone does. That’s just coincidence.”

“Okay, what about this Rule of Threes thing? There must be something there.”

“How could there be?” I ask. “I mean, I have an aunt I’ve never met on my dad’s side, but as far as I know, she never had kids, and I have an uncle on my mom’s side, but he’s gay. And even if my aunt did have kids, and it kicked this whole thing into play, why would she mess with my timeline? Why not just kill me?”

He laughs. “Good to know how you’d handle the situation.”

I smile at him in the darkness. “I’m not saying I would. But you know I’m right. If she needs me out of the picture and wants to take my spark or whatever, she could do so pretty damn easily. What good would changing my timeline do anyway?”

His voice is soft when he finally replies. “It might keep you from meeting me.”

We both fall silent, and the sudden absence of sound underscores something I’m increasingly certain is true—I was meant to meet him. To remain with him. It’s happened before, it may be happening now…and someone is going out of her way to prevent it.

“I wish Rose had been able to change things,” he says quietly.

I wish she was too. When it all comes down to it, time traveling seems to have way more negatives than positives. You can’t keep anyone from dying, but you’re way more likely to wind up dead yourself. “I’m sorry she couldn’t help you…with your brother.”

“That isn’t why I was asking her about going back to save someone,” he says. Our gaze holds, locks, for half a second, my pulse racing. I wish for so many things right now. I want to live, I want to solve this. But mostly I want to cross over and slide into bed beside him, if only to press my head against his bare chest, feel his legs tangle with mine.

I close my eyes, desperate to stop my thoughts, and when I open them, he’s rolled to his back and is gazing at the ceiling. “It’s so weird that you know about Ryan. I don’t talk about him to anyone. Even my parents don’t talk about it anymore.”

For some reason, the topic of his brother opens up this chasm inside me. Fear. I don’t want to ask about him, don’t want to know, yet it feels like the monster under the bed: I’m never going to rest easy until I’ve seen what’s there. “How did he die?” I ask.

“He got in a car with this drunk idiot. I still have no idea why he did it. He knew better. But if I’d gone to the party, it never would have happened.” His voice is heavy, quiet with guilt.

“You can’t blame yourself for that,” I say softly.

“We were bickering about everything back then—competing,” he says. “I don’t even know what the hell we were competing about. It’s like adolescence kicked in and suddenly we were at each other’s throats. But anyway, I knew he was making bad decisions, but I was sick of his shit. That’s why I didn’t offer to be designated driver.”

A memory of some past conversation with him pushes inside my brain. From London, right after we met. His hands on my face, his eyes so earnest. How can I possibly deserve this, he said, when Ryan got nothing?

A puzzle piece snaps into place somewhere in my brain. I can almost hear it click. “That’s why you’re with Meg,” I whisper. The words surprise me. I’m not even sure I meant to say them aloud.

His eyes flicker toward me, luminous in the moonlight. “What do you mean?”

I barrel on, saying things I have no right to say but in the dark it feels safer for some reason. “I’ve been trying to figure out why you’re with her when you’re obviously not in love with her. And I think it’s because you feel like you don’t deserve more, you don’t deserve to be happy when Ryan can’t be.”

He’s silent just long enough to leave me wondering if I’ve pissed him off. “Maybe,” he finally says. “So that’s my excuse, but what’s yours? Why don’t you think you deserve more than Jeff? And please don’t bother trying to tell me he’s everything you ever dreamed of. He obviously isn’t.”

I guess I brought the question on myself, as much as I dislike it. “Jeff isn’t perfect,” I reply firmly, “but I’m not either. I love him for who he is, and I forgive him for what he’s not.”

“And what is he?” Nick asks. The words echo with scorn, but they shouldn’t, because there’s plenty to love about Jeff. Qualities I’ve given short shrift to ever since Nick came into the picture, which is so unfair.

“He’s a good person. He’s kind to children. He stops to greet every single dog he passes. And he’s tried harder than any person I know to make D.C. work for him no matter how many times it knocks him down.” I could keep going, but I get the feeling there’s nothing I could say that would leave Nick convinced. “I know the two of you were at odds the other day and you seem to think less of him for being at work so much, but you’ve seen him at his worst. We wouldn’t have gotten through my father’s death as well as we did without him.”

“My boy scout leader was a good person too,” he growls. “Doesn’t mean I need to marry him. And it’s great if he helped your family but that was what—seven or eight years ago? What’s he done for you since then? Because he seems pretty fucking self-centered from where I stand.”

“He’s not. He gave up what he loved most to follow me to D.C. And he’s stuck it out no matter how hard it’s been, all for me.”

“Give me a break. He followed you because he wanted to. He didn’t give up what he loved most…you’re what he loves most. He did that for himself. Tell him you’re going back to school. Let’s see how selfless he is then.”