this list, right after the strangling incident.
I trudged up to the counter to buy some coffee and come up with a plan to spy on the guy Dad had spying on the younger me and Courtney. “Large regular coffee.”
The man nodded and took my money, then I slid over to wait.
“Small hot chocolate with skim milk and extra whip cream.”
My head shot up when I heard that voice. The man handed me my coffee and I snatched it and turned quickly. I knew as soon as I heard her speak, my plans to follow the seemingly invisible Agent Freeman wouldn’t happen. Not when I so desperately wanted to talk to my sister again.
How could I do this? Lure her somewhere without Agent Freeman seeing me? Or what if I could lure her somewhere and he did follow? Then I’d get to see him, and since this jump didn’t change anything … who cares if he sees me? As long as I could get Courtney alone for a little while.
Then it hit me, like a sack of potatoes. The stupid password Dad gave us. Courtney and I would roll our eyes anytime he mentioned it and we made him give it up in high school. “Never go anywhere with someone who doesn’t know the password,” he had recited every single day from the time when Courtney and I started kindergarten.
It was like a bad PSA announcement. Over and over. Another example of what up to now I’d just dismissed as Dad’s overprotective paranoia. But today it might actually be useful.
I turned back around and looked at the twelve-year-old version of my sister: bright green stocking hat and matching mittens, white ski jacket, uniform skirt sticking out from under her jacket, cheeks pink from the cold, yet so bright and healthy. As she handed the guy at the register her credit card, I breezed past her and muttered, “Go fish.”
She jumped and dropped her wallet on the counter before looking at my face. We’d been given careful (and annoying) instructions to listen to anyone with this code. But no stranger had ever walked up to us and given us “the password.” The younger me probably would have thought it was a joke. Courtney was a little more serious. Still too humiliated to tell her friends about it, but more responsible.
I slid next to her, keeping my eyes forward. “Do I look even a little familiar to you?”
I could feel her eyes burning into the side of my face, then she whispered, “You look kinda like my brother.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “Wanna hear a crazy story?”
“Okay?” she said slowly.
* * *
“I can’t believe this,” she muttered for like the twentieth time. “So, you talked to me before? How many times?”
“Just once.” After Courtney had skillfully managed to sneak out of school between homeroom and first period, we were in a little bookstore around the corner from the school. I told her the same version I had the first time. She was right. This was like Groundhog Day.
And I couldn’t stop looking around, waiting to get a glimpse of the sneaky spy, Agent Freeman, but so far he was nowhere to be found.
“If you knew where you were headed, why didn’t you think to wear a coat?” she asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Funny. I didn’t have time to pack.”
She rocked back on her heels and then leaned against one of the bookshelves. “How long has it been since you left the future? The 2009 future.”
“I’m not sure exactly how long, but it feels like forever. You want to go somewhere else with me?” Someplace where Agent Freeman might follow.
“Sure, but we should get you a coat first. Short sleeves in ten-degree weather is not a good way to blend in.”
I smiled. “A twelve-year-old with a credit card. So dangerous.”
She snorted a laugh and then we left the store and headed out into the cold air.
Courtney at twelve was different than I remembered. I always got along well with my sister, but she just seemed so bubbly and adorable to me now. Mature, but still a little girl with an imagination. Exactly why I could feed her my crazy
I trudged up to the counter to buy some coffee and come up with a plan to spy on the guy Dad had spying on the younger me and Courtney. “Large regular coffee.”
The man nodded and took my money, then I slid over to wait.
“Small hot chocolate with skim milk and extra whip cream.”
My head shot up when I heard that voice. The man handed me my coffee and I snatched it and turned quickly. I knew as soon as I heard her speak, my plans to follow the seemingly invisible Agent Freeman wouldn’t happen. Not when I so desperately wanted to talk to my sister again.
How could I do this? Lure her somewhere without Agent Freeman seeing me? Or what if I could lure her somewhere and he did follow? Then I’d get to see him, and since this jump didn’t change anything … who cares if he sees me? As long as I could get Courtney alone for a little while.
Then it hit me, like a sack of potatoes. The stupid password Dad gave us. Courtney and I would roll our eyes anytime he mentioned it and we made him give it up in high school. “Never go anywhere with someone who doesn’t know the password,” he had recited every single day from the time when Courtney and I started kindergarten.
It was like a bad PSA announcement. Over and over. Another example of what up to now I’d just dismissed as Dad’s overprotective paranoia. But today it might actually be useful.
I turned back around and looked at the twelve-year-old version of my sister: bright green stocking hat and matching mittens, white ski jacket, uniform skirt sticking out from under her jacket, cheeks pink from the cold, yet so bright and healthy. As she handed the guy at the register her credit card, I breezed past her and muttered, “Go fish.”
She jumped and dropped her wallet on the counter before looking at my face. We’d been given careful (and annoying) instructions to listen to anyone with this code. But no stranger had ever walked up to us and given us “the password.” The younger me probably would have thought it was a joke. Courtney was a little more serious. Still too humiliated to tell her friends about it, but more responsible.
I slid next to her, keeping my eyes forward. “Do I look even a little familiar to you?”
I could feel her eyes burning into the side of my face, then she whispered, “You look kinda like my brother.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “Wanna hear a crazy story?”
“Okay?” she said slowly.
* * *
“I can’t believe this,” she muttered for like the twentieth time. “So, you talked to me before? How many times?”
“Just once.” After Courtney had skillfully managed to sneak out of school between homeroom and first period, we were in a little bookstore around the corner from the school. I told her the same version I had the first time. She was right. This was like Groundhog Day.
And I couldn’t stop looking around, waiting to get a glimpse of the sneaky spy, Agent Freeman, but so far he was nowhere to be found.
“If you knew where you were headed, why didn’t you think to wear a coat?” she asked.
I rolled my eyes. “Funny. I didn’t have time to pack.”
She rocked back on her heels and then leaned against one of the bookshelves. “How long has it been since you left the future? The 2009 future.”
“I’m not sure exactly how long, but it feels like forever. You want to go somewhere else with me?” Someplace where Agent Freeman might follow.
“Sure, but we should get you a coat first. Short sleeves in ten-degree weather is not a good way to blend in.”
I smiled. “A twelve-year-old with a credit card. So dangerous.”
She snorted a laugh and then we left the store and headed out into the cold air.
Courtney at twelve was different than I remembered. I always got along well with my sister, but she just seemed so bubbly and adorable to me now. Mature, but still a little girl with an imagination. Exactly why I could feed her my crazy
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