"There's somewhere I'd like to take you."
The words had barely left my mouth when I realized how strange they sounded.
There was silence on the other end.
Then Rebecca laughed.
"You're asking me out?"
I froze.
"No."
Another pause.
"Wow."
"I mean—"
She laughed again.
"You're really bad at this."
I rubbed my forehead.
I have lived an entire lifetime, died, met a Reaper, and somehow I'm already losing an argument to seventeen-year-old Rebecca.
"That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?"
I looked at the calendar hanging above my desk.
August 15, 2015.
I had spent years wishing I could return to this exact moment.
Now that I was here, I suddenly had no idea what I was supposed to say.
"I just wanted to see you."
The line went quiet.
Rebecca's voice became softer.
"Why?"
Because I watched you die.
Because I spent the last years of my life wishing I had told you how I felt.
Because I held your hand while the life disappeared from your eyes.
Because I was given another chance by a girl with a scythe who apparently thought this was a reasonable solution to my problems.
Instead, I said:
"Because I haven't seen you in a while."
"You saw me last week."
"That was a while ago."
"One week isn't a while."
"It is."
"You're weird today."
"I know."
She laughed.
"Fine. Where?"
I smiled.
"There's a café near the park."
"The one with the terrible coffee?"
"That's the one."
"Why would you take me there?"
"Because…"
I paused.
I remembered the place.
It had been where Rebecca and I first spent an afternoon together alone.
At the time, I had thought nothing of it.
Years later, I would remember that afternoon more clearly than almost anything else.
"I just want to go."
She was quiet for a moment.
"Okay."
My heart skipped.
"Okay?"
"Yeah."
"Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow."
"Four o'clock?"
"Sure."
"Don't be late."
"I won't."
"Good."
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Then I whispered:
"She's alive."
I didn't realize I was smiling until my cheeks started hurting.
I spent the next hour doing something I hadn't done since I was seventeen.
I searched my room.
Not for anything important.
I just wanted to touch everything.
My old books.
My school uniform.
My battered headphones.
The little plastic figures sitting on my shelf.
My old laptop.
Everything was exactly where I remembered it.
I opened a drawer.
Inside was a photograph.
Rebecca.
Valentine.
Cynthia.
Me.
We were all younger.
I picked it up.
My fingers trembled.
I remembered taking that photograph.
I remembered what happened afterward.
I remembered how the four of us slowly drifted apart.
I remembered every stupid argument.
Every misunderstanding.
Every decision that seemed insignificant at the time.
And suddenly, the room didn't feel like my bedroom anymore.
It felt like a grave.
A grave filled with memories.
I put the photograph down.
"No."
I shook my head.
"This time will be different."
A voice came from behind me.
"That's a dangerous thing to say."
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
I spun around.
Nothing.
"Rosalyn?"
No response.
I looked under the bed.
Nothing.
I checked the closet.
Nothing.
Then I heard a small laugh.
"You're really looking under the bed?"
I looked up.
Rosalyn was sitting on top of my bookshelf.
I stared at her.
She stared back.
I pointed.
"How did you get in here?"
She shrugged.
"I'm a Reaper."
"That's not an explanation."
"It is for me."
"Can anyone else see you?"
"Not unless I want them to."
"Then get down."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because your bookshelf is comfortable."
"It's a bookshelf."
"Exactly."
I sighed.
"Are you going to follow me everywhere?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because you're my responsibility."
I stared at her.
"You really enjoy saying that, don't you?"
"Very much."
She jumped down from the shelf without making a sound.
Her feet touched the floor.
"Besides, you have no idea what you're doing."
"I know exactly what I'm doing."
"You've been alive for three hours and you've already changed three things."
I frowned.
"What three things?"
"Your decision to call Rebecca."
"That's not changing anything."
"You weren't supposed to call her today."
I froze.
"What?"
Rosalyn smiled.
"Interesting, isn't it?"
She walked toward my desk.
"The timeline has already changed."
I looked at my phone.
"Because I called her?"
"Yes."
"But I haven't done anything."
"You don't need to."
She picked up the photograph.
"Your original timeline had thousands of small events."
She tapped the photograph.
"Move one of them, and everything afterward can shift."
I took the photograph from her.
"So what happens now?"
"Nobody knows."
"That's reassuring."
"I didn't say it was."
I looked at Rebecca's picture.
"If I don't change anything, she'll still die."
Rosalyn didn't answer.
"And if I change something, I might cause something else."
"Correct."
"So I'm trapped."
"No."
She smiled.
"You're free."
I looked at her.
She pointed at me.
"That's what freedom feels like."
The next morning, I woke before my alarm.
Six-thirty.
I stared at the ceiling.
For a moment, I forgot everything.
Then reality came rushing back.
Seventeen.
2015.
Rebecca was alive.
I sat up.
"Okay."
I took a deep breath.
"Don't screw this up."
Rosalyn's voice came from the other side of the room.
"Too late."
I looked over.
She was lying across my chair, eating something.
I stared at her.
"Where did you get that?"
"Your kitchen."
"That's my breakfast."
"It was."
I walked toward her.
"Give it back."
"No."
"Rosalyn."
"No."
"You're a supernatural being."
"Correct."
"Why are you stealing food from a teenager?"
She shrugged.
"Death doesn't provide lunch."
I stared at her.
"You're unbelievable."
"I've been called worse."
She took another bite.
"Besides, you have bigger problems."
"Like what?"
She pointed at my phone.
I looked down.
Three new messages.
Rebecca: Good morning.
Rebecca: Are we still going today?
Rebecca: Don't tell me you forgot.
I smiled.
Rosalyn watched me.
"You're doing that thing again."
"What thing?"
"The stupid smile."
"I am not."
"You are."
I ignored her and typed a reply.
Of course. I'll pick you up at three-thirty.
I hesitated.
Then deleted it.
No.
That sounded too much like a boyfriend.
I tried again.
Yeah. I'll meet you there.
Better.
I sent it.
Rebecca immediately replied.
Okay :)
I stared at the message.
Rosalyn leaned over.
"That's it?"
"What?"
"You're smiling because she sent you a smiley face?"
"I haven't seen one from her in years."
Rosalyn blinked.
Then she looked away.
"That's actually kind of sad."
I glanced at her.
"You understand?"
"Of course."
She folded her arms.
"I'm a Reaper. I've watched humans lose people for thousands of years."
For once, there was no joke in her voice.
"That's why second chances are dangerous."
I looked at her.
"Because you can lose them twice?"
Rosalyn didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
At three-thirty, I left the house.
The neighborhood looked exactly as I remembered it.
The old convenience store on the corner.
The cracked sidewalk.
The small park where children played basketball.
The bus stop where I had spent countless mornings complaining about school.
Everything felt smaller.
Or maybe I had simply gotten older.
I arrived at the café early.
Too early.
I sat outside and checked my phone.
3:41.
3:43.
3:47.
I started getting nervous.
This was ridiculous.
I had faced supernatural creatures.
I had watched someone die.
I had apparently been chosen by Fate for some mysterious reason.
And yet I was nervous about seeing a seventeen-year-old girl.
Rosalyn appeared beside me.
"You look terrified."
"I'm not."
"You've checked the door fourteen times."
"You're counting?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"It's entertaining."
I sighed.
Then the café door opened.
I looked up.
And everything stopped.
Rebecca walked outside.
She wasn't wearing a wedding dress.
There was no blood.
No sadness.
No years of regret in her eyes.
She wore a simple white blouse and jeans.
Her hair was tied loosely behind her head.
She looked young.
She looked happy.
She looked like the girl I had fallen in love with before life became complicated.
She spotted me.
Her expression brightened.
"Terrence!"
She walked toward me.
I stood.
"Hey."
She looked at me suspiciously.
"Why are you staring?"
I blinked.
"Sorry."
"You've been acting strange since yesterday."
"I'm just tired."
"You don't look tired."
"What do I look like?"
She tilted her head.
"Like you've seen a ghost."
I glanced at Rosalyn.
She was standing behind Rebecca, grinning.
I immediately looked away.
"Maybe I have."
Rebecca laughed.
"You're really weird."
"You're not the first person to say that."
She smiled.
"Let's go."
We started walking.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
I didn't mind.
I wanted to remember this.
The sound of her footsteps.
The way she occasionally brushed her hair away from her face.
The way she looked around when she talked.
The little laugh she made when she found something funny.
I had forgotten how much I missed these things.
Then Rebecca suddenly stopped.
"Terrence."
"Hmm?"
"Why did you really ask me out today?"
I looked at her.
She was staring directly at me.
I could have told her.
I could have said everything.
Instead, I smiled.
"Because I wanted to spend time with you."
She studied me.
Then she smiled.
"Okay."
She started walking again.
I followed.
But neither of us noticed the black figure standing on the rooftop across the street.
It watched us silently.
A strange symbol glowed on its hand.
Rosalyn noticed.
Her smile disappeared.
She stopped walking.
I looked back.
"What's wrong?"
She didn't answer.
Her eyes were fixed on the rooftop.
"Rosalyn?"
She finally spoke.
Quietly.
Almost to herself.
"That's impossible."
I followed her gaze.
There was nothing there.
The figure had disappeared.
"What is?"
Rosalyn looked at me.
For the first time since I had met her, she looked genuinely afraid.
"That wasn't supposed to happen yet."
I frowned.
"What wasn't?"
She stared at Rebecca.
Then at me.
"The timeline."
Her voice dropped.
"You haven't changed enough to cause that."
I looked at Rebecca.
She was standing a few feet away, completely unaware of what was happening.
I looked back at Rosalyn.
"Then what caused it?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, she grabbed my arm.
"Terrence."
"What?"
Her expression was serious.
"Whatever you do…"
She looked toward the empty rooftop.
"Don't let Rebecca be alone."
I stared at her.
"Why?"
Rosalyn's fingers tightened around my arm.
"Because something else came back with you."