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And if there isn’t a spring in my step as I make my way out of Candy Land.
It’s a ten-minute bus ride to the medical center on the other side of campus, near the freeway. Miles is probably in physics, wondering where I am. Surely, he’d discard my plan for not being scientific enough.
Some of my pep fades as I’m filling out paperwork, a hollow pang settling in my stomach. It might have been wise to eat something first.
“Barrett?” a man in magenta scrubs calls, and it’s too late. Good person now, food later. I follow him into a curtained-off room, taking a seat beneath a painting of sailboats. “Just a little poke.”
A little poke. That’s not very bad at all—it even sounds gentle.
Except then he uncaps a vial and ohhhhh no, I make the fatal mistake of looking at the needle.
My vision narrows to a pinprick, and the world goes dark.
“Is it Thursday?” I ask when my eyes flutter open, reaching for my glasses before realizing they’re still on my face. I’m sprawled on an exam table in a different room, my head fuzzy and limbs still tingling.
Miles Kasher-Okamoto is in the seat across from me, long legs crossed at the ankles, holding out a glazed doughnut and looking as smug as ever. “Not going to work,” he says. He’s in his usual plaid flannel, and there’s a dusting of powdered sugar across the left pocket.
Maybe I should have remained unconscious. “Did you follow me here?”
“I saw you leave the dorm when I was on my way to physics and wondered where you were going.” He pauses, considering this. “So, yes. I guess I did. You fainted, by the way.”
“Charming.” Only because my blood sugar needs it and not because I’m grateful he brought me one, I snatch the doughnut and stuff it into my mouth.
“It was a valiant attempt.” Miles notices the powdered sugar on his pocket and brushes it off with a casual sweep of his fingers. “Unfortunately, it was also a futile one.”
“Maybe this time,” I say, “but I’m going to figure this out.” Part of me wonders, though—if I manage to escape on my own, what happens to him? Do I start the next day with a different version of him? Or what if he finds something in one of his books and leaves me behind? It’s hurting my brain too much, so I take another bite of doughnut, hating how good it is. “This is just a minor setback.”
His mouth curls into a smirk that’ll haunt my nightmares, assuming I’m lucky enough to have any tonight. “I suppose I could use a bit of entertainment.”
DAY FIVE
Chapter 12
“SAVE THE GOPHERS!” I SHOUT, waving a sign emblazoned with those words in bright purple. “Their home is disappearing, and we’re running out of time to stop it!”
If I’m being given a do-over, maybe I’m meant to fix something I did wrong on my first day. And, after racking my brain, I realized I’d blown off Gopher Girl not once but three times.
Would teaming up with Miles be the most logical thing here? Yes.
But a tiny part of me doesn’t trust him just yet. I can’t help thinking that the last time I was alone with a boy, it led to the worst days of my life. I’ve gotten used to being alone, even if I’ve wanted college to change all that.
Yesterday, I successfully donated blood later in the afternoon, but the good deed didn’t kick-start my timeline. That’s fine. It’s also fine that I chugged two bottles of 5-Hour Energy last night, to no avail. I have plenty more ideas. I am optimism and determination and grit! I am Saving the Gophers!
“Did you know that the Mazama pocket gopher is crucial to maintaining biodiversity?” I ask two people walking through Red Square. They quicken their pace and avert their eyes. “Each gopher can turn over several tons of soil per year. It’s a crime that not enough people are paying attention!”
“You’re doing amazing, Barrett,” says Kendall, my esteemed gopher guide. It feels great to be good at something, even if I’m only good at it because I asked Kendall about a hundred questions this morning.
A few yards away, there’s a flash of red flannel near an abstract sculpture. “Miles,” I call out, dropping my sign. “I can see you over there.”
He emerges from behind the sculpture and holds up his hands. Guilty. He’s still here. I can’t deny that it’s a relief he hasn’t escaped and left me behind.
“Do you really have to watch?” I ask as he makes his way to our table. He must be taking a break from his very important library research. “You’re making me nervous.”
“What, you think you won’t successfully save the gophers otherwise? Therefore causing you to remain stuck in September twenty-first forever?” There’s a slight tug at the corner of his mouth, but I think it would take an electromagnetic force to get him to smile.
“Maybe! I don’t know the rules.” I keep my voice low so Kendall doesn’t overhear us.
“Cute shirt, by the way.” He gestures to the Guillermo the Gopher tee I’m wearing, which matches Kendall’s. “They’re kind of like groundhogs, right?”
