I clench my eyes shut and groan. Our episodes of Time Warp aired back-to-back this week, night after night—something Marsha calls binge style. Tonight, the horrible ending will air, though Nate already knows what happened since, after swearing him to privacy, I told him about it.
Tomorrow they’ll film the live finale from Tucson High’s football stadium.
Alumni and fans are invited. Colt Findley will be hosting the show. Yet, as Nate stated,ourappearance is optional.
I imagine showing up, bright and fresh and ready to take Kai back. Next, I picture Kai kicked back in his California home with a cold beer in his hands, watching me flounder on live TV.
I groan. “Do you think souls bleed? Because I’m pretty sure mine is.”
Tears well in the corners of my eyes, then fall down my cheeks as I stifle a sob. “I have to go,” I say, wanting to cry in peace.
“I love ya, Sis,” Nate says. “And I’m here for you.”
I fight the quiver of my chin and manage a jagged exhale. “I love you too. Thank you.”
“I hope you show up tomorrow,” he adds. “I’ll be watching.”
Yes, Nate will be watching. My mom and friends will be watching. The fans will tune in for it as well. But the one thing I want to know is this: If I go to the live finale with hopes of getting Kai back, will he be there too? Or will I find that he’s tuned in from the comfort of his own home, watching as I make a fool of myself one last time?
Chapter Nine
Day-vouringthe pie
Tucson High’sstadium glows bright against the night. From a distance, it looks as if thousands of fans are aiming high-powered beams into the dark sky from the deep pit.
I’m not in a town car this time, though Marsha offered to send one. I don’t want the station to have any inside scoop on my whereabouts. I know it’s verychickenof me, but I want to know if Kai will show up or not before I do.
Blasts of cool air blow at leaf-blower force from my car vents, keeping my face and pits from sweating up a storm while I wait in the Arizona heat. Propped beside those air vents sits my phone.
I’m already streaming the live footage. I’ve witnessed the stuffed bleachers, loud cheering, and the tangible thrill of anticipation. After a very short intro by the snarky host, Colt Findley shot to commercial, promising he’d be back in five minutes flat.
I splay my hands before the vents and notice, with a glance at my phone, that those five minutes are up. The show is back on, live.
The camera circles around the stadium, catching broad smiles and waving hands before settling back on Colt Findley. Tonight, he’s dressed in full football gear with black smears under his eyes and massive pads on his shoulders.
“In a mere fifteen minutes,” he says, “we’ll find out whether Nikki and Kai are willing to talk about their experience on our Arizona Finale of Time Warp, High School Reunion.
“We may not know if Kai’s here. We may not know if Nikki’s here. But what wedoknow is that half of their alumni are present to cheer on their favorite high school sweethearts.”
The crowd cheers loud enough to hear it in duplicate—from my phoneandthe distant field.
“Come on,” I blurt. “Just tell me if Kai’s here so I can make a decision.”
“In a matter of minutes,” Colt continues, “we’ll open the gates on the home side to see if Nikki is here to represent.”
“Crap! I’m first?”
“Then, we’ll bust open the opposing gates to see if the current California resident Kai has chosen to join us.”
The hope inside of me withers. How am I supposed to save face if they expect me to showmyface first?
“Whether one, both, or neither show up to tonight’s live event, it’s sure to be packed with unseen clips, funny bloopers, and entertainment from their alumni too.”
My phone buzzes with a text.
I gave it a quick tap.
This is Marsha Langston. If you’re at the high school and plan to make an appearance, now is the time to head to the home-team gate. The area’s been blocked off for security purposes, but the guard will be watching for you.
