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My stomach twisted at the thought, knowing all of Michael’s plans depended on Cat’s answer. We couldn’t go without her. “Any idea what she’s decided?”
ing in frustration, I flipped over onto my stomach, burying my face in my pillow. Maybe taking my thoughts apart one by one would be as effective as counting sheep. I could try to make them jump over a fence and out of my mind.
Was Kaleb really as indiscriminate when it came to girls as Michael wanted me to think? He’d seemed so sincere when we talked. I couldn’t imagine that he’d share the things with a random stranger that he’d shared with me, especially the things about his parents. He might be flirty, but I thought he was genuine. Until the phone call from the kissy-faced girl. The way he’d answered practically stamped his forehead with the word player.
Add that to the conversation with Michael …
I pulled my pillow over my head and screamed.
“Emerson!”
The word was loud, coming from right beside my ear. I choked off my yell and sat up, clutching my pillow to my chest, whipping my head in the direction of the voice. It took me a second to make out the shape standing beside my bed against the light coming in my window from outside, but once I did, I wanted to scream again.
Jack.
“Not now,” I moaned in frustration, squinching my eyes shut. I opened them again slowly, hoping he’d disappeared.
No such luck.
“Are you all right?”
I sighed.
“Did you find your young man? Get the answers you were looking for?”
“My young man? Oh, I found him,” I grumbled. “And if one stupid boy wasn’t enough trouble, I also found his best friend.”
“Let me guess,” he said, a sympathetic smile on his face. “They’re fighting over you?”
“Yes. No! I don’t know.” I slammed my face into the pillow before answering him in a muffled voice. “It’s some kind of … competition, and it’s totally unnecessary. I just want to trap them in the same room and… and …”
“What?”
“Slam their heads together until they’re unconscious.”
He laughed his rich, buttery laugh. “Come now. You must be used to boys fighting over you.”
“That would be a big no,” I said, but I tucked his words away like a piece of candy into my pocket, to take out later and savor. “Where did you come from? I thought you were gone.”
Jack’s laughter stopped, and the room grew almost unbearably quiet.
“I looked for you yesterday. Where were you? Scratch that.” Scooping my hair out of my face, I sat up. His eyes were still the same strange blue, if slightly lighter, and they were staring right through me. His hair seemed lighter, too. I held the pillow clutched to me, very aware of how little I was wearing. “What are you?”
“That’s an odd question.”
“Not really.” I readjusted, pulling my covers up higher. “Every time I’ve ever touched rips, they’ve disappeared. You didn’t.”
“What’s a rip?” he asked, studying me with an expression of amusement.
“What you are. What I think you are.” I shook my head in irritation. He still wore the same black suit with the vest. Nothing really gave away what time period he belonged in, not even his haircut. His fingers were absent of rings. No visible clues to lock him into any era, except for the silver pocket watch that hinted of a gentler time. “You’re from the past. Right?”
He nodded.
“I don’t know why you’re here, Jack.” I leaned forward slightly, wondering what would happen if I tried to touch him. He had to know what I was thinking, yet he stayed still. “Why do you keep showing up?”
“For you.”
“What?” I shivered as the air conditioner cut on, the ceiling vent blowing cold air down over my bare arms.
