TWO

 

I woke up to the incessant beeping of my alarm clock. But it sounded muffled and far away. I forced my eyes open and turned it off. Something was covering my ears. Blinking, I reached up. My fingers fumbled over my head. Oh, that’s right. I’d fallen asleep listening to Mom’s Discman. I couldn’t believe it stayed on my ears all night. I must’ve slept pretty soundly. All that anger and crying had worn me out.

Taking the headphones off, I forced myself out of bed. All I wanted was to crawl back under the covers and hide. But that would only make things worse. I’d spent all day yesterday doing that. Everyone was going to talk about me no matter what. Why not give them something good to talk about? Why not show them that I was stronger than they thought?

With courage I wasn’t sure I even had, I headed toward my closet. I knew the perfect outfit for today. Skinny jeans, a lowcut top, my black booties. I planned to look so hot, Ian would regret ever cheating on me.

Smiling, I imagined him begging for forgiveness. Then it’d be my turn to humiliate him. Stepping into the closet, my heart sank. What the ---? With shaky fingers, I yanked down some of the clothes that were hanging. Wide legged jeans, body suits, thick belts, floral dresses. Where did these clothes come from? My gaze dropped to the ground, my confusion growing. Keds, black patent leather shoes with a strap across like something a baby doll would wear. My pulse quickened. Ahh, Converse. Thank god. I bent over, snatching them up. Now those were shoes I recognized.

I froze, listening to Preston moving around in the bedroom next to mine. Of course. He was probably behind this prank. He was always pulling stunts like this. Well, not quite this elaborate. Obviously, he had help this time. I furrowed my brow. And a hefty thrift store budget….

Something didn’t seem right.

Backing out of the closet, I made a beeline for my bedroom door. When I passed the mirror above my dresser, I stopped. What happened to my hair? Heat ripping up my spine, I slowly stepped toward my reflection. With shaky fingers, I touched the dark brown strands. Where was the pink? The blond? I’d spent hours at the salon last week while my stylist painted pink and blond balayage onto my hair. I’d only washed my hair once since then, and it had hardly faded. How was it gone now?

My body warmed. Sweat formed along my brow line. I swallowed hard, my gaze scouring the room for my phone. Last night I’d left it face down on my nightstand, but it wasn’t there.

“Remy?” Mom knocked on the door.

I exhaled with relief. Mom would know what’s going on. I opened the door ready to tell her about all the craziness of the morning, when my chest tightened. “Mom?” My mouth gaped open at Mom’s skin-tight white one-piece with pink and yellow neon splashes all over it. It looked like something I’d seen in an old workout video from the nineties. “What are you wearing? And what’s wrong with your hair?”

Cocking her head to the side, she narrowed her eyes. “Okay, knock it off. Kelly and I are going to step aerobics this morning. You know these are my workout clothes.” Lifting her arm, she patted her overly permed ponytail. “And I wear my hair like this all the time.”

No, she didn’t. She had an angled lob and she usually wore it straight or curled it into beachy waves. Was I being punked?

“Where are the TV cameras?” I laughed nervously, glancing around.

Mom furrowed her brows. “I don’t have time for this. I have to meet Kelly in…” she looked down at the watch circling her wrist. Since when did she wear a watch? “…twenty minutes.”

Maybe she and Kelly were going to some themed class or something. Weirder things had happened with those two. And I had bigger problems than Mom’s bizarre fashion choices. “But I don’t have anything to wear. My clothes are all…weird…and I can’t find my phone. Do you know where it is?”

Mom blew out an exasperated breath. “C’mon, Remy. You have plenty of clothes. Wear one of your babydoll dresses and your Mary Janes. You love those. And your phone is right there. Where it always is.” She pointed.

I turned around. Sitting on my dresser was a clear phone attached to the wall with multicolored wires running through it. It was seriously the last straw. I couldn’t help it. I laughed. Like really laughed. Like hysterical laughter poured from my throat.

“Is this some kind of joke? Where did you even find that phone?” I asked.

“I swear, between you and your brother I’m going to lose my mind. You two always get like this when your dad is working out of town.” Mom shook her head. “I’ve gotta go, and you need to get dressed. Nick’ll be here any minute to pick you up.”

I froze. The air left me. “Nick?” I asked, confused. This morning was getting weirder and weirder. “Nick is picking me up?”

“Of course. He always gives you a ride to school.”

Huh? No, he didn’t. “I don’t drive myself?”

Her eyes bugged out. “We’ve been over this, Rem. We can’t afford to buy you your own car, and I need mine. Please don’t hassle me about it right now, okay?”

“Yeah. Okay,” I answered slowly. What the hell was going on? Where was Dad’s car? That’s the one I always drove when he was out of town. But whatever. I was going to ride with Nick to school. It was a freaking dream come true. Why was I arguing about it? I wasn’t sure what game Mom was playing or how she’d pulled this off, but I didn’t care. A few minutes ago I’d been dreading showing up to school this morning. Now I was looking forward to it. Ian always suspected I had a crush on Nick. What would he think when I walked into school with him? What would everyone think? They’d think I didn’t give a crap about Ian’s stupid kiss, that’s what.

My heart skipped a beat.

This was perfect.

“All right.” Mom touched my shoulder. “I’ll see you after school.”

“Yeah,” I said, dazed. “Have fun at your weird, themed nineties class or whatever.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” I mumbled.

“Okay. See ya tonight.” Mom flashed me one last concerned look before stepping into the hallway and closing my door. “Come on, Preston. Time to go,” I heard her call out, and pretty soon my brother’s loud stomping filled the hall.

Opening my bedroom door again, I stuck my head out. “Pres! Did you mess with my clothes?”

He turned, wrinkling his nose. “What? No. Why would I do that?”

I bit my lip. He was telling the truth. He wasn’t a good liar. When he disappeared around the corner, a collage of pictures on the wall caught my eye. That had never been there before. Walking forward on unsteady legs, I stared at the photos. Mom’s hair was permed. And she was right. Apparently, I did like wearing dresses and babydoll looking shoes. What had she called them? Mary Janes?

Hugging myself, I stepped away from the collage. My mouth was so dry it was like I hadn’t drank water in days. Going back into my room, I picked up the old-fashioned phone. The dial tone loudly blared in my ear, but I had no idea who to call. I didn’t know anyone’s numbers. They’d all been programmed into my cell.

I took a few deep breaths, in and out. In and out.

Dizziness swept over me. I had no idea what to do.

Hearing noises outside my window reminded me that Mom said Nick would be here any minute. I needed to be ready. Once I got to school and saw Ava and my other friends, I was certain this would all make sense. Maybe they were in on whatever joke this was.

I hunted through my drawers and closets until I found something halfway decent to wear. A t-shirt, straight legged pants and Converse. I still had no idea what happened to my normal clothes, but I believed Preston. It seemed too big of a prank for him to pull off anyway. A funny feeling nagged in the pit of my stomach. Had I woken up in a parallel universe? I’d read about them once. Thought they were made up, but maybe not.

A knock on the door cut into my thoughts. I ran to the window and peeked out. Nick stood in front of my house. Heart pounding, I stepped back before he could look up and see me.

Nope. Not a parallel universe. This had to be a dream. An amazing dream.

Yep. That had to be it.

Lord knows I’d had enough dreams about Nick.

This one seemed much more real than the others. But maybe that was good. Maybe in this one I’d stay asleep long enough for him to kiss me.

Racing across the hall to the bathroom, I brushed my teeth as quickly as possible and combed through my hair. Dream or not, I would have minty fresh breath for him. Before heading downstairs, I grabbed the backpack that sat near the door in my bedroom and inspected it. Jansport. Since when did I have a Jansport backpack? What happened to my messenger bag? I scoured the ground in my room, but it was the only bag in sight.

When the knocking resumed, I flung the strange backpack over my shoulders. I didn’t want to waste anymore time and ruin my chance of riding to school with Nick.

I’d barely made it downstairs when Nick hollered out, “Remy? You in there?”

My stomach fluttered. I loved how he said my name. I loved that he said my name at all.

Breathing deeply, I opened the door. “Hey,” I said breathlessly, getting lost in his blue eyes. Man, he was even hotter close up.

“You okay?” He asked. “I’ve been out here forever.”

I cleared my throat. “Yeah. Sorry. I’m running a little behind.”

He smiled, a dimple forming on his cheek. “What’s new?”

Everything.

I smiled back.

Nick looked the same - blond hair, tanned skin, ripped arms. The only difference was that his pants were baggier than usual. It would make it a little harder to check out his butt. Not that I was complaining. I usually only got to check him out from a distance. Today I had a front row seat. I couldn’t stop staring.

“Um…here you go. Your mom forgot to bring the paper in again.” He shoved an ink stained newspaper into my hand.

Huh? Since when do we get this?

Clutching it, my gaze connected with the date. 1993?

“But it’s 2018,” I muttered in disbelief.

“What?” Nick leaned closer, tilting his head slightly.

“The paper.” I bobbed my head downward. “It says it’s from 1993.”

Nick’s eyebrows knitted together. “Yeah?”

“But it’s 2018,” I said slowly.

“Okay, I think somebody’s watched Back to the Future too many times.” He laughed.

My face heated up so fiercely it was like I’d been stricken with a fever. I glanced down the street at the cars in the driveways and the color on the houses. Everything was different. I thought about Mom’s bizarre outfit, the clothes in my closet, the backpack, the phone attached to the wall. “Oh, my god. It’s really 1993.”

“It sure is.” Nick gave me a wary look. “Hey, are you all right?”

I swallowed hard, nausea rolling over me. No, I wasn’t all right. Not even a little bit. My knees softened. I rested my palm against the doorframe and forced a nod. “Let me just put the paper inside.”

He nodded, as I slipped back into the house. The walls seemed to bend and close in around me. I leaned my head against the wall in an effort to stay upright. Sucking in air, I desperately tried to calm down my racing heart. In the family room, the flat screen that was normally mounted to the wall was gone. In its place was a large entertainment center with a box TV in the middle.

Was I really in 1993?

Peeking into the kitchen, my stomach dropped. There was a phone similar to the one in my room on the counter. Yesterday, all of our appliances were stainless steel. Today, they were white and ancient looking. A calendar hung on the wall. Setting the paper down, I walked to it. With each step, my pulse quickened.

The date on the calendar matched the paper. It felt like someone sat on my chest. I struggled to draw in a breath.

No, this had to be a dream.

I pinched my arm. It stung, but I was still here. Dizziness swept over me, so I closed my eyes. Inhaled through my nose and exhaled through my mouth.

When I opened them again, everything was the same. I wasn’t sure this was a dream anymore. But what other explanation was there?