Today sucks. I hate it.
The school day is finally done. It felt like a week.
Like a long, no-good, terrible, very stupid week.
I knew I wasn’t going to recognize anybody in my classes, or in the halls, or in the cafeteria, or anywhere at all, but knowing that and actually experiencing it are two totally different things. I mean, it seriously felt like I was a new kid, being introduced at the beginning of each class and everything. At a high school I’ve apparently been going to for, like, seven years.
I’ve always loved cracking people up in class, but that doesn’t work nearly as well when no one knows who the hell you are. Or when they know exactly who you are and they’re laughingatyou more thanwithyou.
Mrs. Destin was probably the best part of my day, mainly because she doesn’t seem that different from how I remember her from yesterday. (Well, what I remember as yesterday, which was actually six freaking years ago.) She’s still supercool and supportive and said I could always come to her to talk, which I guess we’ve done a lot in the past. She seemed slightly more tired than she was yesterday, but otherwise, she was very much herself. Her black hair wasn’t even grayer. Maybe she dyes it.
The other repeat teachers are Mr. Davies for geometry and Ms. Hanif for US history—I’ve never had much of a relationship with either of them, so today felt pretty much like business as usual. As Iwas leaving Mr. Davies’s class, though, he gave me a little nod and said in his awkward-ass way, “It’s good to have you back, Carter.”
It was confusing because, as far as I remember, I never left, never moved on to junior year before being forced to backtrack by this curse or spell or disease or whatever the hell it is.
Still, I give Mr. Davies credit for trying. “Yeah, thanks,” I said.
Now I spot Mom’s Prius in the after-school pickup line, and I more or less sprint into the front seat. Must get away from this place.
“You did it,” Mom says. “How’d it go?”
“You know that feeling when the dentist is cleaning your teeth and they hit a nerve? And you get that surge of chills?”
“I do.”
“It went like that.”
“Well, all right, then,” Mom says, shifting the car into Drive. “I’m really sorry, Carter.”
She asks no further questions, which leads me to believe that maybe we’ve had this exact exchange in past years and her attempts to push for more information only made me more agitated than I already am.
I assume we’re driving straight home, but then Mom pulls into the strip mall on Route81 and parks in the lot.
“Are we... picking up dry cleaning or something?” I ask.
Mom shakes her head. “Usually now is when you want to see Manny. Do you want to see Manny?”
My stomach is wobbling like a spoonful of pudding as the door of Tech Haven slides open, and I walk inside on my own. I move past aisles of TVs and speakers and tablets, and then, there he is: my best friend, wearing the gray employee polo as he talks to a shortwoman about a charger he’s holding.
He looks like a goddamn grown-up. It’s creepy as hell.
“Totally up to you,” Manny is saying, sporting this well-manicured beard, “but for my money, this one is the way to go. It charges faster than any of the other options, so you can get your phone up to one hundred percent within thirty minutes.” He’s talking like a real salesperson would. It’s equal parts impressive and disturbing.
The woman decides to go for it and thanks him as she walks away with the charger, and that’s when he sees me and breaks into a huge smile, almost like he was expecting me. “Hey, you looking for a charger too, my dude? New headphones perhaps?”
“Are they free?” I ask, smiling back.
“Nope.”
“Then no, thank you.”
Manny gives me a huge hug, and he feels stronger and taller than I remember.
“This is some messed-up shit, huh?” he says while we’re still hugging.
“Worst prank of all time.”
“Yeah, man. I hate it. Happy birthday, by the way.”
