Lincoln’s been so busy with school that we’ve barely been in touch, just short text exchanges here and there. He doesn’t even know Maggie and I are back together. But in mid-April, I finally get ahold of him.
“I am,” Lincoln says, sitting alone on his dorm room bed. “Getting some reading done.”
“Wow, college seriously seems like a never-ending string of work.” I plop down onto my own bed. “I don’t know if I wanna go, even if I do find a way to age up.”
“Ah, it’s not as bad as it seems.” Lincoln smiles, but it seems kind of fake. “So what’s up?”
“Not much. I’ve been watching different time-loop movies. Like, for research or inspiration or whatever.Palm Springs. Groundhog Day.Just finishedBig.Which isn’t a time loop, but, you know.”
“And...?”
“Eh. The loops inPalm SpringsandGroundhog Dayare just a day, not a year. And it’s thesameday, over and over, and both those guys remember everything that happens.”
“Right,” Lincoln says.
“AndBigwas a wish he made that turned him into an adult. But I doubt I wished forthis. Why would I do that?”
“Yeah, I mean...” Lincoln runs a hand through his curls andover his scalp. “They’re just movies. So.”
“Geez, all right. Thanks for your support, bro.”
“I do support you!” Lincoln says, having picked up on my heavy sarcasm. “But, to be totally honest, this isn’t the first time you’ve watched those movies...”
“Okay, see?” I say, trying not to look as disappointed as I feel. “That’s helpful, Link! I need to know this stuff so I’m not just repeating the same tactics. It’s eight months till my next loop—time is of the essence!” I get up from the bed and walk out of my room, across the hallway. “Which is why when you’re home this summer, you’re gonna bring me up to speed on everything, and we’re gonna figure this shit out! Am I right?”
“Uh.” Lincoln tries to smile, but it looks more like a constipated grimace.
“Look where I am,” I say, flipping the phone around. “Your room! It misses you so much, won’t stop yapping about you. I keep telling it to calm down. You’ll be home in like a few weeks, right?”
“Not... exactly,” Lincoln says. “I... I got this internship.”
“Oh.” I flip the phone back toward myself. “What does that mean?”
“It means... A slot just opened up, and I got it. It’s cool, actually. I’m gonna be helping this psychology professor I love. On campus.”
I stare past the screen, at Lincoln’s pristine bed, this eerily clean room, devoid of life. “Congrats,” I say, fighting hard not to unleash another snarky comment. “That’s great. So... what? You’re not gonna be here? All summer?”
“Well,” Lincoln says, visibly squirming, “unfortunately notmuch. I’ll be home for a bit here and there, but yeah. Mostly I’ll be in campus housing. Can’t exactly commute from New Jersey to Pennsylvania every day, you know?”
I nod, unable to form words, a ragged knot in my stomach. I assumed Lincoln would be home soon, that we’d have a few months when things would finally feel closer to normal.
“Totally,” I say, impressed by how steady my voice seems. “Makes sense. I mean, I definitely think your room is devastated right now.” I aim my phone at the wall above his bed. “So sorry you had to hear that, Lincoln’s Room. I’m sure Lincoln will make it up to you somehow.” I turn the screen back to myself. “But I, on the other hand, am proud of you, little bro. You’re doing such cool stuff. I’ll probably be spending lots of time with Maggie this summer anyway. We got back together. I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
“Oh,” Lincoln says, eyebrows raised high. “Really? Wow. Okay.”
“Yeah. Really. And it’s been amazing.”
Lincoln nods a bunch. “Okay then. I mean, if... Yeah. Congrats.”
“Why are you being weird about this?” I ask, the words leaping out of my mouth without permission. “It’s good news. I’m happy about it.”
“Of course, CT,” Lincoln says. “It is good news. It’s just—Maggie literally messaged me the day you looped back to tell me I shouldn’t mention her name to you. Because she didn’t want to be with you again. So I’m... I don’t know.”
“She changed her mind!” I say, pacing past Lincoln’s desk. “Is that not allowed? I know I’m stuck this age forever, but let’s rejoice about the things thatcanchange, right? Instead of beinga buzzkill? Like with this Layla apology, too. I’m all excited for what that could mean, and you barely seem to care.”
“No,” Lincoln says, massaging the side of his face, “that’s because—Honestly, I just find it frustrating that you think I don’t care when I’ve spent the past five years being here for you in every way possible. I’m almost literally a human search engine for every question you have about Maggie or the past or whatever. Meanwhile, you barely ask me anything about my life.”
It’s as if he’s stuck a hand through the screen and flicked my nose.
