“She can’t outrun him.” Syd was probably right. Even the average guys were almost always faster than the fastest girls. It was patently unfair.
“She might,” I said. Either way, she’d saved us. No one was looking here anymore.
Syd and I left the dugout and went out to the field behind. We rolled over onto our backs and looked up at the stars while the grass grew cold beneath us. We talked about running and boys and our plans for summer and for the next school year.
Thanks to Ella, no one ever found us.
30.
now
Wait.
My mind is slotting some things into place.
What if I wish for someone, and then it turns out they were already back? Or had never vanished in the first place?
Because that8/31on the marquee?
I still swear that’s new.
And what about the journal?
Someone elsecouldstill be here. They wouldn’t have to work very hard to dodge me as I move around town. I haven’t been playing this very smart. But that can change.
“Come on,” I tell Yolo.
31.
now
Yolo and I pull into the parking lot at Lithia High.
There it is: The marquee says8/31. I didn’t make it up.
But it’s changed again. There’s more.
I slam on the brakes, stare up at the new words:
GET TH3M BACK.
That message.
The one that was in my journal.
Again.
My spine shivers in confirmation.
Because the date on the marquee—thatcouldhave been changed before everyone disappeared. It could have happened between the time I’d seen it yesterday morning and the time everyone vanished last night.
And someone could have found my journal, written in it, and left it in the woods before yesterday.
Butthis.
I knowthisis new.
Someone elseishere.
