Page 117 of Kiss Slay Replay

I’m laughing. I’m awake, I’m up, and I’m laughing.

Because I was just taken out by a fucking knockoff Godzilla. Because I’m sleep-deprived and insane. Because I need to feel some sensation other than the ghost of flames on my skin.

Because if I have to greet this day again, I’m greeting it with laughter.

Archimedes does not approve. I tease him by mimicking his grump face. He huffs.

“All right. Breakfast?” I pour him some food, start my coffee, and game out the day. “I think I need to do everything like I did it the first time. That’s my best chance at finding the exit of the wormhole. Or entrance. Do you understand it, Archie? You’re named after a physicist.”

He stops eating to give me a dirty look.

“You’re right. You weren’t named after the physicist. You were named after an animated owl. I’m sorry.”

He resumes munching.

I tap my fingers on the counter waiting for my coffee to brew. I touch my face, run my hands over my skin to feel it unscathed, unburned. When I blink, when I close my eyes, I see the monster, the doom of its incinerating breath.

I see you.

I hear the Eyeball Man’s voice in my head. The caw of ravens.

There’s a hint of rot in here, in the air.

Is it dark? Did the sun go out? If I open my eyes, will it be to oblivion?

I inhale. Does it suddenly smell of flowers?

I could crawl back in bed, but it won’t matter. The day will come for me. It’ll come whether I want it or not. Whether I’m ready or not. The day is here.

I open my eyes, ready as I’ll ever be.

—

“When you call my name, it’s like a little prayer,” I sing.

I’m convinced I’m a better singer in the loop. Maybe all the screaming has transformed my vocal cords. Considering everything else that’s happened, that’s been proven possible over these last few Fridays, why not?

“I want to take youuu—shit.” Did I hit a squirrel? That could be a good sign. I thought I hit one that first day. Maybe it means I’m on schedule. On time. I roll down my window and shout an apology to the woodland creature I might have flattened.

I turn onto the dirt road to the Lakeside, get to the clearing at the top of the hill, and pull into the parking lot, park next to Evan’s red Honda Civic. I step out onto the gravel, roll my shoulders back, shake out my limbs. I made it here. That’s something. In this moment, it’s enough. More than enough.

“There she is.” Evan stands on the steps of the reception hall, one hand on his hip, the other giving me a regal wave. Wyatt is beside him, as he always is.

“Here I am,” I say, skipping over and throwing my arms around Evan. Reciting my dialogue. “So good to see you. You smell good. What is that?”

“Why would I tell you?” he says. “We’re sharing a cabin. Did you know? You, me, and Cassie. And Luke. And…”

He gestures to Wyatt, who gives a thumbs-up.

“What do you mean sharing?” I ask, giving Wyatt a hug. “Not rooms, right?”

“No, no. Imagine? We get our own rooms and bathrooms. But we share a common room.”

“Great. This weekend really will be just like college.”

“So you’re going to be a big slut?”

“Hopefully,” I say, massaging my neck.