“That’s amazing,” Bryony said, giving me a grin. “Cass has a crush!”
“Bryony does, too,” Emma R. said, giving her a shove. “She saw this brown-haired guy and immediately turned into the heart-eyes emoji.”
I grinned at her. Bryony hadn’t really had a crush on anyone—well, except Tom Holland—since her breakup in December. “That’s great! What’s his name?”
“I didn’t get it.” She sighed. “I guess it wasn’t meant to be? I wasted my only shot.”
“Well,” I said, trying to think about how to put this, “maybe not? Maybe you’ll have more chances than you think?”
The countdown clock ended, but Eton Mess didn’t take the stage. After a few moments, I could see the crowd starting to get restless, a few people peeling off and heading to rides. I could understand it—we were getting close to the end of Grad Nite, and unlike me, they probably thought it would be their only chance to do this.
Bryony took a breath to reply, but before she could speak, the lights onstage started swirling around, and the announcer was back.
“Disney Grad Nite seniors and chaperones! Please welcome—all the way from jolly olde England—Eton Mess!”
Everyone cheered and the band came out onstage. I noticed that Niall and Freddie were laughing together, both of them holding bottles of water as they took their places, and I let out a sigh of relief. It seemed like maybe Freddie hadn’t told him about the music manager coming. I figured if he had, they wouldn’t look so happy and relaxed, and Niall wouldn’t look so pleased with himself—though judging by the poster, maybe this was just his default expression.
The band was wearing the outfits I recognized from the poster—all variations on a prep school uniform, with some of them pulling it off better than others. The drummer, who had long dark hair, mostly looked uncomfortable, flipping his tie over his shoulder as he sat behind his drum kit. And the other guitarist, a shorter redhead with a kind, freckled face, didn’t look very happy, pulling at his collar and swallowing hard, his face pale. In contrast, Niall looked good, smiling and winking at the audience, but he had nothing on Freddie. Freddie looked so handsome in his shrunken blazer and striped tie that I had to remind myself that there were bigger things happening right now than my rapidly growing crush—even if it was suddenly hard to remember what those were.
“Hey there, seniors! Congratulations on graduating!” Niall yelled from the stage, and the crowd around me cheered happily. “Are you having fun at Grad Nite?” Everyone cheered louder. Freddie took a drink of water from his bottle and smiled at the crowd. “Chuffed to hear it,” Niall said, in an accent I would have described asposh Brit, one that seemed to be getting thicker with every word he spoke. “We’re Eton Mess, and we’re—”
But before he could finish his sentence, the redheaded guitar player groaned, clutched his stomach, and then looked around, panic in his eyes. He tried to run from the stage but couldn’t quite make it?—and a moment later, he leaned over and threw up.
A collectiveEwwwww!went up from the crowd, and I stared in horror, feeling my stomach plunge. I whipped around to see the music manager—her hand was clapped over her mouth and her eyes were wide with horror.
“Uh, sorry,” Niall said, staring as the redhead staggered offstage, and a series of crashes followed as he must have bumped into equipment. “We’re just having a little—Freddie?” he asked, desperation in his voice.
I looked to Freddie but realized with dawning alarm that Freddie didn’t look great either. He was scratching at his neck, and his face was slowly getting red and puffy….
“Vegetables!” I whispered.
“What?” Bryony asked, looking from me to the stage. “What is happening here? Is this part of it?”
“Sorry about all this,” Niall said, stepping up to the mic as Freddie ran off the stage as well, his face now bright red, his eyes so puffy I wondered if he could even see. “Maybe something a capella from me as my mates get themselves sorted?”
I stared at the stage, still not able to get my head around how everything had gone so wrong, so quickly. ?I was now rethinking the conversation I’d overheard in a totally new way. The girl had said the performance was unbelievable, unforgettable, and it was blowing up online. I had just assumed she’d meant all of this in the good way. But now, I realized it was the exact opposite—because what had just happened was a complete train wreck.
Everyone around me was holding up their phones, filming, and the music manager was walking away, shaking her head—clearly writing Freddie off and leaving his crushed dreams in her wake.
All at once, it seemed perfectly clear.Thiswas the reason I was in the time loop—and the reason that I kept running into Freddie. It was so that I couldfixthis. I could save his performance, and his shot at making it big. Because what had just happened onstage…it was worse than just not getting a shot with a manager. Judging by how everyone was recording and posting and commenting, this would be something that would follow him forever, wrecking any other prospects.
I turned away from the stage and started hurrying toward the exit.
“Cass?” I heard Bryony call after me. “Where are you going?”
“To fix it!” I yelled behind me. I knew what I had to do—I had to stop Freddie from eating whatever vegetable he’d just consumed and save his chance of becoming a star. I could make this better. I was sure of it.
I was almost running as I made my way back toward the wooden door. The wind had picked up, and it was blowing paper out of a trash can. One page practically hit me across the face so I crumped it up and grabbed a piece off the ground as well, bringing them back to the bin. I was about to throw them away?, when I noticed the footer on the paper, next to the page number. It readCourtney Mulaney/Hurricane Madison.
I just stared at it for a moment before looking down into the trash can—where the rest of Ms. Mulaney’s manuscript had been thrown away. The last time I’d seen her, she’d been getting on the call with the agent. But now, looking at her novel in the trash—it seemed like it hadn’t gone well.
I threw away the papers and then picked up my pace, eyes on the door. The sooner I started this over again, the sooner I could start fixing things.
I saw Amy huddled on the bench, her face in her hands, and my heart sank as I realized that, once again, she and Carlos had ended the night broken up once more. “I’ll fix that, too,” I muttered to myself, practically running now, getting closer to the door….
Itapped Freddie, who was staring at his phone, on the shoulder. He looked up at me, eyebrows raised. “Yes?”
“Excalibur,”I said confidently. I’d done everything the same as last time: encouraged Bryony to go on the real roller coasters and made sure to tell her to start with the Guardians ride. Then I’d had a quick chat with Ms. Mulaney, and headed over here as soon as she got her agent call. So I’d known just where Freddie would be—staring at his phone, reading the email from the music manager, the one that told him she was coming tonight.
