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I'll Stop the World(90)

Author:Lauren Thoman

But none of those other meetings had been for him.

“Thank you, Alice. They can come in.”

She picked up her phone, tapped out a text. They’re here.

The response came immediately. He must have been waiting for her message. Good luck. Love you.

Rose tucked her phone into her top desk drawer as her visitors entered the office, reminding herself to keep her smile reined in and her eyes appropriately principaly. “Hello, Ms. Warren, Justin. Welcome,” she said, shaking their hands.

Her voice didn’t tremble. She was well practiced.

Justin and his mother seated themselves in the two upholstered armchairs in front of her desk. Rose had been aware of him, of course, as he’d risen through the ranks of Stone Lake High—the first time she’d spotted him in the halls as a gangly freshman, she’d had to excuse herself to her office, where she’d sobbed for a solid twenty minutes—but she hadn’t had much opportunity to interact with him individually, until now.

Ever since the results had come in with this year’s list of National Merit Finalists, she’d been looking forward to this meeting, and dreading it. It wasn’t every day she got an opportunity to look at one of her students and know, for sure, that she’d influenced his life for the better.

But she couldn’t tell him. He couldn’t ever know what they’d been through together. That version of Justin had died in 1985. He existed now in only her memories.

The version in front of her smiled pleasantly, sitting up straight in his chair. His hair was blond, not the garish orange it had been when she’d first met him, although she still noticed a subtle line of black rimming his eyelids. He wore black jeans and sneakers—were they the same ones he’d been wearing the night they met? The night he died? She hated that she couldn’t remember—and when he folded his hands in his lap, she could see an elaborate constellation of stars doodled in black marker along the inside of his arm.

He was so different. And yet, so familiar.

Rose cleared her throat, flipping through a folder on her desk, even though she’d had the contents memorized for days now. She smiled at him, unable to keep it from blossoming into a full, wide grin. “Well, congratulations, Justin. Being named a National Merit Finalist is a very impressive achievement. We’re all so proud of you.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he said politely, although she could tell from the flush in his cheeks that he was more excited than he let on.

“As you know,” Rose went on, “many universities will likely offer you scholarships based on your status as a National Merit Finalist, but in addition to whatever they offer, you also qualify for a Stone Lake Academic Scholarship, in the amount of ten thousand dollars a year for up to four years, at the school of your choosing.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded. “Thank you.”

Millie Warren rolled her eyes at her son, nudging him with her elbow. “He doesn’t want me to make a fuss, but it’s not every day your kid is awarded forty thousand dollars just for being smart.”

Justin shrugged, blushing.

“We called his grandparents,” Millie went on, “and you could’ve heard them whooping all the way from New York, even without the phone.”

Rose’s chest grew warm at the mention of Bill and Veronica. Bill had still been at the high school when Rose started working there, although he’d left to take a university position in New York a few years later.

“How are Bill and Veronica doing?” Rose asked, hoping they didn’t notice the slight quiver in her voice.

“They’re good,” Millie said. “My brother and his wife live just a few blocks away from them, so we get to see them all whenever we visit.”

“Everyone still in good health?”

“Oh, totally.” Justin chuckled. “Grandpa even said he’ll teach me to water-ski this summer on my uncle Jonathan’s boat.”

“Really?” Rose laughed. She could picture Bill flying over the surface of the water, white hair swirling in the wind, as Veronica rested a manicured hand on the wheel of the boat.

Sometimes, when Bill had still been working with her, Rose had tried to picture the world that Justin had described—the one where he and Veronica were both gone, and Millie grew up an only child, hating herself—and found she couldn’t do it. The tragedy was simply too great to fathom.

The name on Justin’s school records now read Justin Jonathan Warren, his middle name chosen for the uncle he was always meant to have, instead of the one who was never supposed to exist.

“Yeah, he’s been wanting to teach me for a while,” Justin said, “but this time Alyssa’s coming with me when I visit—oh, Alyssa’s my girlfriend.”

“I know,” Rose said, smiling. She’d seen them in the halls, holding hands, laughing. It was strange, to see the boy who had once consumed her every thought, still young while she’d grown old, hand in hand with the girl he’d always regretted leaving behind.

She wasn’t jealous, not exactly. He was still a boy, while she was a grandmother five times over. She’d had a wonderful life with a man she loved with her whole heart, and Justin’s was still ahead of him.

But her chest still clenched at the sight of him with his beautiful, young girlfriend, and she doubted that feeling would ever fully go away. She wondered if anyone ever, in the history of the world, had experienced this feeling, or if it was just her. Plenty of girls had loved boys who’d died. But as far as she knew, she was the only one whose boy had come back decades later, raised in a world that he’d helped create, even though he had no memory of it.

It was an odd, lonely thought.

“Anyway, Alyssa really wants to learn, so I guess we’re both learning,” Justin finished with a smile. “We’ll be there for two weeks in July, to give us time to pack before we head off to college.”

“And where are you going to school?” She knew—it was right there in the file—but she wanted to hear him say it out loud.

“University of Pennsylvania,” he said proudly. “It’s where my grandparents met. They tried to pretend they didn’t care where I went, but I could tell. Plus I’ll be able to see them on the weekends and stuff. It’s been weird, not having them here.”

“I’m sure it has been,” Rose said, a lump rising in her chest. Ducking her head, she made a show of adjusting her glasses before he could notice her watery eyes. Get it together. She cleared her throat, forcing a bright smile. “So let’s talk about the details of this scholarship, shall we?”

She managed to get through the rest of the meeting without breaking down, shifting into autopilot as she delivered her standard speech about GPA requirements and distribution schedules, although she kept her eyes on her notes far more than she usually did. If she looked at him, she couldn’t trust herself not to stare, searching for every difference, every similarity.

Finally, and too soon, her role was over, and she was shaking their hands, and then they were gone.

Rose waited until she heard the front door of the office click shut behind them before bracing both hands on her desk and taking a long, shuddering breath. She removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes, not caring whether she smudged her mascara. Not for the first time, she wished she kept something a little stronger than coffee in her office.

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