Woke Up Like This(27)

He runs both hands down his face, looking disturbed. I am equally concerned for both of us. Renner actually gave up his dream of coaching college rugby for me? What was he thinking?



Apparently, I’m the school counselor at MHS, and Nori’s a freelance graphic designer.

She goes on a tangent about how she couldn’t transfer to Rhode Island School of Design because the world wasn’t ready for her brand of talent. (She still seems bitter.) But it worked out for the best because we went to college together, where she met her girlfriend, Sasha.

“What about everyone else?” I ask. “What happened to Kassie and Ollie? Are they married?”

Nori looks at me in disbelief. “Kassie and Ollie broke up after high school grad. I can’t believe you don’t remember. It was a huge blowout. Ollie is engaged to Lainey now.”

I blink. Kassie and Ollie broke up? How? Why? My brain is fuzzy from information overload, settling on the more digestible tidbit of information. “Ollie is with Lainey Henderson? The curly-haired kid I used to babysit?” I clarify. “She’s . . . a ten-year-old.”

“She’s twenty-three. He hired her at the office. He’s a Realtor,” Nori informs us.

“This is . . . insane.” My head feels unusually heavy. This is too much new information. “We lost thirteen years. Thirteen. Did I make dean’s list? Was I valedictorian?”

“Relax, girl. You made dean’s list and you were valedictorian and gave a big speech. It was a good one—at least, I think it was. Pete and I got buzzed in the coatroom right before the ceremony so my memory is a little fuzzy but—”

“There’s gotta be an explanation for this,” Renner mutters.

Nori starts tapping on her phone. “Okay, hold up, I’m googling.”

Renner and I crowd the back of her chair, watching as she types, I woke up in the future.

There are thousands of hits. A song by some band called The Intangibles. An old movie called 13 Going on 30 with Jennifer Garner that Mom always loved. And a bunch of news articles about amnesia and severe head trauma.



Nori taps on the screen with her matte-black nails. “Oh, look at this.” It’s a news article about a woman who woke up at thirty-two believing she was a teenager. “It says she was diagnosed with transient global amnesia. Apparently, you remember how to do basic things, but you forget qualitative memories. It says you’ll remember them eventually.”

“Okay, but look. It also says it’s incredibly rare,” I point out. “Why would both Renner and I have it?”

“True.” Nori bites her lip. “Wait, what if you two have been sent to the future to change something? Prevent some sort of disastrous event?”

Renner hangs his head. “Like our apparent marriage next week? I can’t believe we’re getting hitched.”

I nod vigorously. For once, I agree with Renner. “There’s no way we’re actually getting married.”

Nori stands, shaking her head. “Are you guys really doing this again? Your bickering is so high school. You better get a grip before your bachelor/bachelorette party tonight.”

Renner coughs. “What party?”

“My mom’s coworker mentioned it,” I grumble.

“Ollie and Lainey are hosting. Everyone’s going,” Nori says, buzzing with excitement.

“Who’s everyone?” I ask, hesitant.

“Literally everyone. Even your mom. Trust, I tried to steer you away from a family-oriented party toward the genitals-and-strippers variety. But you two were very insistent on keeping things wholesome to preserve your reputations as educators and community leaders.”

Renner rolls his eyes, resting his hands behind his head. “Sounds like Char.”

Nori ignores him. “Like I said, everyone is going. Including you two, obviously.”

I shake my head and stand up. “No. We’re not going. At least, I’m not going. Tell Ollie we have to cancel.”



She gives me an icy look. “You’re not not going to your own bachelorette.”

“We’re not getting married. We have to call it off.”

She looks at me like I’m a Martian. “After all the hours we spent designing invitations and place cards? No way! Besides, guests are coming from out of town and your parents will be so upset.”

“Let them be upset. We’re not getting married, period,” I say stubbornly.

Renner nods in agreement.

That’s probably the first thing we’ve ever wholeheartedly agreed on.





TWELVE



Before Nori leaves, she crafts a “foolproof” plan. Renner and I will go to school (otherwise known as work) and re-create the ladder fall in the gym in hopes of somehow propelling ourselves back to seventeen.

“Purposely chucking myself off a ladder is the opposite of foolproof,” I point out, already wincing from the phantom pain. Though . . . at least it’s a plan. And it’s the only thing that remotely makes sense.

Nori ignores my reluctance. “Make sure to do it in the exact same place, exactly the same way. I bet my left boob you’ll wake up back in 2024.” She pauses, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Oh, and if it works, you have to tell my seventeen-year-old self not to cut my own bangs before college. It wasn’t a good look.”