When I wake up with the first licks of morning light, groggy and sore, the first thing I check for is the nose splint.
The second thing I check for is Drew, curled up on the other side of the bed.
Neither of them is there.
Chapter Thirty-Three
I find Drew standing in his sleep clothes in the living room, looking out upon the ashen sky as raindrops pelt the windows. A relentless sound score ofrap-rap-ra-rap.
Milkshake is spread out on the floor beside him, back legs winged out as he rests his head on his favorite toy—a yellow stuffed bird.
The crystals that were still under my pillow are cradled in my shaking hands. “They didn’t work,” I croak, voice raspy from sleep.
Drew doesn’t turn to me as he says, “I waited all night for a sign—a spooky light from beneath your pillow or for you to levitate out of your body and zip away, but nothing. Nothing more than you, lying there, looking peaceful as you slept.” I wish he would turn around and look at me, move to me, wrap me in his arms, kiss my hair, and tell me it’s all right. Instead, I spot a glass of brown liquid trembling in his hand in the reflection of the window, the rest of him immobile.
“A little early for that, no?” I ask, knowing that in this timeline, alcohol for breakfast was probably the least of my sins. However, it’s still shocking to see that Drew is a tipsy mess when he finally shows me his face. Bloodshot eyes. Hair pointing out every which way. He looks as unraveled as I feel.
“I’ve been brainstorming,” he says. Whiskey. I see the half-drunk bottle on the counter. The drink that inspired the crystal quest—the fix we now know failed. “I didn’t sleep at all. I tried to read but I couldn’t focus. Every hour I spent mulling over what could’ve gone wrong. Was it the intentions you set or the specific crystal shapes we gathered?” That’s when I see the pile of crumpled papers littered all over the coffee table, a ripped-clean legal pad with a pen from Drew’s shop on top of it.
He holds out the only unwrinkled piece of paper with half a ring stain in the top right corner. Sitting on the floor, I pull up the front hem of my shirt, creating a tiny pocket to drop all the crystals in. Their weight, one by one, in my lap is a tiny, crushing avalanche of failure. Milkshake nuzzles against my bare legs as I try to read, but I can’t make out this chicken scratch. “What is all this?”
“I have a plan. I made a list,” he says, pacing now. “I think we should start with the orange crystals that we got from Stephanie. We have a few different shapes and shades of those. We can rotate them in and out in various combinations.”
“Tonight? After the special taping?” I ask, squinting at the paper, noticing how his writing got larger and sloppier the farther down he got.
“No. Now,” he says. It’s clear he’s not thinking straight. What happened to his two-drink rule?
“Drew, it’s dawn. I can’t go back to sleep,” I say, finding a place among the mess to set down the crystals and then standing.
“I thought that too,” he says. He rushes to the bathroom and returns with an orange bottle I haven’t investigated before. “You have sleeping pills, so it’s not a problem.”
“Jessalynn will be here soon, I’m sure. There’s press and photo shoots and last-minute tech to run,” I say, voice pitching higher the more frantic I become. It’s a lot, but I know it’sa lotI can handlewith Drew by my side. Only he’s spiraling before my eyes, scaring me. Usually I’m the messy one. I don’t know how to navigate this new dynamic.
“Who cares? This is more important,” he says. “I promised I’d get you back before the special taped. I’m not going to give up now. Here, I laid out the crystals we’ve got and labeled them.” The other orange crystals are set in a row, Post-it notes stuck to each. The more I take in, the more I see that Drew has turned my apartment into one of his bookstore displays—the scattered work of a veteran detective out to crack the grisly case.
I can’t help thinking: What if there’s no case to crack?
“Drew,” I say after a shaky breath, ready to tell him where my mind has been at. “What if…what if I just stayed?”
Drew comes to an abrupt halt. When he looks at me, he’s instantaneously sober. Frighteningly so. “We can’t leave you like this.”
I think about reconciling with Wanda and Mom. I think about growing closer, both physically and emotionally, with Drew. I think about the Harvey Theater and the hordes of adoring fans who purchased tickets to see me tonight, who will be surprised by the friendlier comedy I’ve written thanks to my time here.
I always wanted it all, but didn’t know how to get it. Maybe Doop gave it to me in the form of this time-jump. I just had to work hard at untangling the old me before I could have it all as the new me.
The me I am right now.
“What if that’s what I want?” My voice is tissue paper thin. It seems simpler, easier. God, I could use simple and easy for a change.
Drew’s eyes widen. “To live trapped in a body that’s not yours in a life you didn’t earn?” The question whips at me, even if it’s mostly truth.
“But aren’t I working toward earning it?” I ask, desperation and fear circling like they’re about to start a duel in my stomach. “I’ve been reaching out to CeeCee. I helped Wanda at the club. I’ve beenchipping away at Jessalynn’s exterior, trying to pull out the Jessie I used to know. I even edited my stand-up material to reflect the honest me that you helped find in this timeline. Doesn’t that mean anything?” The air between us grows hotter and harder to breathe.
Drew’s eyes fall down as he slumps against the counter. “I can’t be a part of a half-life, Nolan. I worked too hard to build this one without you.”
I place my palms on my chest, stopping my heart from falling out onto the floor. “If this is it—if I’m stuck here—are you saying that there’s no place for me in your life?”
“I let myself have this because I thought it was temporary,” he says, hanging his head. “I realize that was a terrible mistake. I thought if I could get you back to your original timeline, we could start over with a clean slate. That was wishful thinking. I knew it was a possibility, but I never considered what would happen if it didn’t work.”
