“And?” I say, ignoring the bit about how our first date—whenever that was—was only fine. Of course it was. That’s the best I could hope for. Right up until the time loop kicked in. No one could predict that part.
Jasper shakes his head. “And you were inside. And you left again. And I went home again. And then it happened... again. It always happens.”
“Sixty times?” I ask.
“Sixty-one now.”
I glare at him because now that I am once more alive and breathing, what he’s saying sounds too implausible to be true.
I say, “Have you ever considered standing me up? Maybe if we don’t meet then?—”
His laugh is dark. Angry. “Oh, trust me. I tried that. Repeatedly. It didn’t help. I’d get on with my life?—”
“Henching around? Terrorizing women and children?” I say sweetly, which earns me a narrow squint that gets my blood pumping. Maybe the “good dude” persona he puts out only goes so far. I always do love an argument. If Jasper could give as good as he gets, maybe we would have had a shot if it weren’t for all of... this. I want to fight about whether paper straws were ever going to do anything to stop climate change. Not who is responsible for a date that won’t end.
“I get on with my life,” he says again slowly. “And then at some point, whether I’m awake or asleep, at home or at... somewhere else?—”
I snort. “Don’t sanitize it for my sake.” When the world goes back to normal, making sure he pays for his crimes is first on my to-do list. I may not work at SPAM anymore, but I still have connections. Jasper will be sorry we ever met.
“Whatever I’m doing, suddenly I’m on the sidewalk again, heading toward the diner.”
It’s a lie. Has to be. The last two months, I’ve been working. The only people I’ve seen are the board members, the engineering team, Ezekiel, and Clarissa. And while some days no doubt blend together, they’ve all been different.
“If what you’re saying is true, then why do you remember and I don’t?”
The anger drains out of him. He’s back to being the guy I saw coming through the diner. He’d make a charming bartender or an appealing stranger at a party. Too bad about his career choices. As a doctor, his powers would be unstoppable. Even if he dropped out of med school, he could at least play a convincing doctor on TV. He’d have a funny nickname like Doctor Steamy. Mister McSexy.
Focus, Morgan. The alluring henchman doesn’t get sexy nicknames. He gets evil ones. McSneaky. McStab-You-While-You’re-Sleeping.
In fact, what he gets is a pained look on his face. Jasper says, “It has to be you. Every time you die, the day starts over.”
My fingers slide to my chest. It still aches. My other hand goes to my ribs, then my hip, snapped from the impact of the bus. They don’t hurt much today, but yesterday I could barely think from the pain. What pains and injuries have I already forgotten? Never mind forgotten kisses. This is a far more important question.
On a shaky breath, I say, “Are you telling me I’ve died sixty times?”
His cocky grin is back, a little more sheepish than before. “I think so? I wasn’t there for a lot of them. You really don’t seem to like me.”
I jab a finger into his chest. “You knew what was happening and you didn’t do anything?”
He blinks. “I saved you from the bus yesterday.”
But not from Indigo. And how many busses before that?
I nearly tell Jasper to get out of my car, but he has more information than I do, and it’s not like I can go home and search “How do I stay alive so I can escape a blind date that’s really a time loop?” on the internet.
Jasper’s picking imaginary lint off his jeans and pretending not to look at me. He’s about as subtle as a bag of hammers, but I guess we’re a team now. The fastest way to extricate ourselves is to use what Jasper knows and to do my best not to die anymore.
Easy peasy, right?
“So, what else have you figured out?” I say with a heavy sigh.
He squirms. “Not much. The day’s not always the same length. Sometimes it’s fast.”
“Because of the bus,” I say.
“Yeah. And sometimes it takes longer. Once I made it all the way to noon tomorrow before everything started all over. Whatever you did that day, I really thought we were going to make it.”
“But you don’t know what happened... or will happen...” Seriously, thinking about time this way is hard. “Tomorrow if we split up?”
