I dropped down on the couch and stared at the door.

He was still out there.

I could feel him.

My heart was pounding, beating out a message, saying, Go…go…go to him.

But I couldn’t.

This had all been a mistake. I didn’t know why I had come back here, but maybe I wasn’t supposed to save Florence. Maybe time was just…stuck. Maybe things happened how they were supposed to happen. Maybe Florence was going to die no matter what.

I’m not marrying Florence. I don’t love her.

“Shit.” Stretching out on the couch, I pressed my face against the cushions.

I let my arm fall off the couch, and my fingers brushed against the spine of the book I’d been reading and absently, I picked it up. I wanted to see my mother. I wanted to see her and tell her I was reading the book. But what if I didn’t ever get back?

If only I hadn’t gone down that ladder. If only I hadn’t gone to the party with Caitlyn…

Frowning, I sat up.

What if I could stop myself?

After all, Marty McFly managed to stop Doc Brown from getting shot, right? The thought managed to make me smile. Rubbing my finger across the gold script on the spine, I started to think.

* * *

I read the letter through three times.

My main hope was that I’d believe it and not think I was going crazy.

The letter had details that only I would know, so hopefully, I’d believe…well, me. Future me would believe now me.

“This is enough to make me go crazy,” I whispered. Dropping my face into my hands, I closed my eyes.

Right now, I was left hoping this would work.

If it didn’t, I had no idea what was going to happen.

I’d given up on the idea that anything I could do was going to change things with Florence.

As for Glenn, maybe the best thing I could do there was just stay away.

I think maybe it’s you…

The memory of the words he’d spoken made me want to cry, and I knew if he had pushed any harder, I wouldn’t have been able to resist.

So I had to stay away.

Whether or not he tried to fix things with Florence, if she saw me with him, it would only add to whatever hurt she had to be feeling. I couldn’t do that to her. I’d only been here a week, but I liked her. Sure, she was kind of naive. Okay, very naive. I think a part of her knew that she was fooling herself, almost desperate to believe in a happy ever after for her and Glenn. But whether her feelings were real or manufactured as Glenn seemed to think, she believed in them, and no matter what, she was going to end up hurt.

And if I was around him and she saw it, if she realized we were both attracted to each other, it was going to be a sucker punch.

Attracted.

That was such a lame word. Attracted didn’t touch what I felt, and I was starting to realize it wasn’t what he felt either.

Against my skin, the golden locket heated, and I reached up to touch it. Slowly, I took it off and let the chain dangle from my fist as I studied it.

This little bit of gold.

Somehow, it was connected to what brought me here, and I’d believed it would lead me back—or so I thought.

But every time I’d thought I was getting closer to fixing things, I just ended up doing something that would lead things further away.

“Am I even supposed to save her?” I whispered.

The necklace just dangled there.

“This is stupid. I’m talking to a locket.” I put it down on the surface of the table and focused once more on the letter. I added a few more notes at the bottom, mentioned some details about the relationship I had with Caitlyn, hoping maybe I’d be smarter and steer clear of her.

I closed with, Don’t let Maverick get into the car if you do go to the party. Whatever you do…don’t let him get into that car.

Then I sealed it in an envelope.

I was going to take another page from one of the ultimate eighties movies, and follow Doc Brown’s footsteps from Back to the Future II. I was going to visit the nearest Western Union tomorrow and send it to myself. I’d arrange for it to be a few weeks before the party. I warned myself about the drugs, Maverick’s accident—all of it.

If I could prevent myself from going, then maybe I could make it to where I’d never come here.

Maybe I’d never meet Glenn.

I closed my eyes.

Without conscious thought, I reached for the necklace, not thinking about it until I felt it heat my palm.

Slowly, I looked down at it.

It was glowing so bright, it looked unnatural, especially in the dim light cast by the simple, single bulb lamp on the table.

Before I could change my mind, I got up and carried the letter over to my purse and tucked it inside.

“It’s better this way,” I said.

I wanted to believe that, and part of me really did.

But I was already aching. Already hurting.

And even though I hadn’t left yet, I already missed Glenn.