"Love is how you earn your wings."

― Karen Goldman

Chapter Seventeen

"Promises"

Nathan and I step into the front of the diner with our fingers interlocked, but as soon as Joyce comes toward me leaning for hug, Nathan quickly releases my hand.

"Oh Jesus, I am so glad to see you sweetie!" Joyce pulls me close to give me a warm hug only a mother could give. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." I nod. Over the corner of my eye, I see Nathan behind me, his head turned away. Warren does the same, awkwardly hovering some steps behind Joyce. "What about you guys?"

Joyce's smile falls. "The Two Whales is barely standing now," she says as she looked around at the wreckage that's becoming of Two Whales. "I don't know if it's going to make it through this tornado."

It's truly a miracle it's still standing.

"Poor Officer Barry and all those people out there…" Joyce trails off when her eyes land above my head, and I'm certain she must be looking at Nathan. She eyes him with apprehension.

I decide to clear the air. "Uh, this is—"

"—Nathan," Joyce finishes, to my surprise, a rehearsed smile forming on her lips. "Am I right?"

"Yes," Nathan responds wearily, probably aware of his reputation among most of the adults in town.

Realizing this too, I think I should give him a hand. "Nathan saved me, actually," I say.

Joyce looks surprised. So does Warren.

"Why, thank heavens then!" Joyce exclaims, impressed. "I really am glad to see you safe, sweetheart." She turns to Nathan. "Even you, boy."

Nathan takes a second to respond. I don't think he expected her to say that. "Thank you," he finally says politely.

Worry reflects in Joyce's eyes as she asks me, "where's Chloe?"

"I—" I pause to think of what to say. I can't tell Joyce. I can't. It would shatter her. "I'll find her."

"Not in this storm you won't," she retorts, crossing her arms. She adds firmly, "and you're not going out there, Max. I just have to pray that Chloe—and David—are holed up somewhere safe."

"I'm sorry about all this, Joyce."

"Don't be, honey." Her voice is so gentle, it just makes me feel worse about all this. "It's not like you whipped up this tornado on your own."

Right.

Joyce nods a goodbye at me before walking behind the counter to tend to some survivors. I look at Nathan and he must have felt my stare because he turns to me, returning it. I try to offer him a smile, giving him a little reassurance. He smiles back weakly, but I'm satisfied it's there. I know this isn't the most comfortable situation for Nathan and I can see he's trying.

I leave Nathan to himself for the moment and approach Warren, who's now seated at the bar. He's got an elbow on the plastic laminate countertop, his chin resting on the palm of his hand. I tap his shoulder lightly to get his attention, and he faces me with a certain shyness and uncertainty.

"You okay, Warren?" I ask gently.

"All things considered," he responds, a sadness in his eyes. "But I can't complain. Got it better than the people out there."

"I know," I say, because I don't know what else to. My guilt is a given, but I'm glad Warren's kindness still shines through all this darkness.

"I hate to say I'm glad to see you," he says, awkwardly scratching the back of his head, before finishing endearingly, "but I'm so glad to see you."

I smile at him. "The important thing is that you're safe."

Warren nods and his eyes wander like he's psyching himself up for something.

"So…" He begins, glancing down at the space on the floor between us. "You and Nathan, huh?"

Warren meets my eyes again, but I look away this time. My cheeks heat up. "Y-yeah, that kinda happened… I know it probably looks like it came out of nowhere."

To my surprise, Warren purses his lips and shakes his head. "Nah, I… sorta saw it comin'."

My eyes widen, so Warren elaborates, "I saw you two at the beach. After we… you know, I took a drive to clear my head and thought I'd go to the beach. Except… you two were already there, just sitting in the sand. For a second I thought Nathan was up to no good again, but it didn't seem so. You had his jacket around you and I couldn't see your face but…"

Warren stops briefly to stare somewhere, and I follow his eyes, finding Nathan gazing out the window. "… I could see Nathan's," Warren continues. "He had this really concerned look on his face. I've never seen him anything other than pissed or smug, and it made me think."

Nathan turns his head, catching both of us staring. Again, to my surprise, Warren offers him a weak smile. But Nathan doesn't return it, his brows knit in confusion.

"But now I understand," Warren says as he turns his attention back to me. "Especially after I saw you guys at the backroom just now."

I blush. When Warren puts it like that, it sounds like we did something… frisky.

"And look, I don't exactly approve—not that you'd need mine, but—" Warren takes a quick breath and sighs. "You said he saved you?"

"Yeah," I say, and my lips automatically curl into a relieved smile. "He did."

"But what was it that happened to you in the first place?" He asks, and immediately follows up with, "if you want to talk about it, of course."

"It's a… long story," I begin uncertainly. "But if it weren't for Nathan, and David Madsen, I probably wouldn't be standing in front of you right now."

"Damn, Max," he breathes. "It's just… hard to wrap my head around. On top of that, I still can't believe you actually drove down here in the middle of a fucking E6 tornado. For one photograph? I mean, I know you didn't come for me. Obviously."

He mumbles that last word, but I still manage to catch it.

"Warren, I came for all of you." I mean that. I want to make everything right, for everyone. Not just me. Not just Chloe, or Nathan. "Just tell me you do have the photograph."

"I do but—"

"Now listen, Warren. I've been meaning to tell you this for so long but since we're a little shorton time, I'll fast track it a little."

"Oh yeah," Warren whispers. "You're finally going to tell me what you never did in the parking lot."

"I wish I would have but we're here now so, trust me, okay?"

I take Warren's nod as my cue to tell him everything as summed up as I could. My vision in Jefferson's class. How I discovered my powers. Jefferson's crimes.

"I have to go back in time. Jefferson already ki—" I pause to swallow a lump in my throat. "Killed Chloe. I can't let that happen—I have to do something, Warren!"

"Max," he says. "Going back in time is what caused the storm."

"What?" I say in disbelief. "I thought—I don't know, I just thought it was like my purpose to stop the storm somehow—but I can't figure it out and it just keeps happening—"

"Calm down, Max," he says, and I try. "I'm not a real scientist, even though I play one at school, but this seems like pure cause and effect. Maybe Chaos Theory."

I exhale, trying to take all of this in.

"For every action, there's a reaction." Warren goes on, "whenever you reversed or altered time, maybe you caused a chain reaction. Even in the environment."

"All this destruction… is my fault." I knew it.

"Don't blame yourself, Max," Warren tells me. "You're here for a reason. It's just up to you to find out why." He sighs. "I'm sorry you got stuck in this—whatever this is. But I have total faith that you'll do the right thing when the time comes."

He briefly lays a gentle hand on my shoulder. "I'm so proud of you, Max. Thank you for trusting me."

"Thanks for being here," I say sincerely. "Always."

Warren breaks into a kind familiar smile. "Of course." He fishes for something in his pocket and when he hands me the polaroid photo we took outside the party, I'm washed over by a huge wave of relief.

I take the photo finally and I wrap Warren in a hug. He has always been there for me, and I've been able to count on him for so many things. Even in the face of a goddamn storm, Warren still saves my ass somehow.

"Be careful, Max," he says, once we break apart, his tone soft and tinged with worry.

"I will," I reassure him.

I spot Nathan sitting in a booth… our booth, the one we sat in when I gave him those pancakes and in that other timeline. He looks up at me just as I'm approaching him, and he watches me slip into the seat opposite him. I exhale heavily.

"Those pancakes were good, by the way," Nathan says.

I smile, and I feel myself relax instantly. Nathan remembers too. The memory of Nathan secretly eating the pancakes I got him is oddly comforting. "I know."

"Sorry I was a dick."

I breathe a laugh. "I know that too."

Silence thickens in the air between us, until Nathan asks, "did you get the photo?"

But it does little to help the looming sense of doom, of finality.

"Yeah," I respond. "I did."

"So, this is it then."

"Seems like it."

There's a deep set sadness in Nathan's eyes as he looks into mine, undoubtedly because of how final this moment is right now between us. Soon, this won't exist. This Nathan will just be in my memories, along with all of the moments we shared.

"I talked to my sister," Nathan says, snapping me out of thought.

Nathan's sister? I think I read an email on his computer from her. Kristine is her name, I think.

Nathan continues, "Before everything went to shit today, I actually miraculously got hold of her. Normally, whenever I dialed that number she gave me, it'd just be out of reach. But today, I actually got through." He averts his eyes from me. "She's in the Peace Corps somewhere—I don't fucking know. But she always had my back at home."

I reach my hand out to Nathan's resting on the table, squeezing it to give him some comfort.

"Before I even said a damn word, she knew something was wrong. I didn't tell her shit. She pushed though. Told me I could overcome whatever it was I'm dealing with." He sighs. "Then she started babbling like she does, says she's soul searching for herself or whatever-the-fuck and she'll come back when she does and we can…" He pauses, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly, before finishing with, "start over."

"Your sister really cares about you," I comment.

He nods, slowly. "I guess I… want to do that."

Nathan is purposely avoiding looking at me, which is fine because I know it must not be easy for him to open up about his family. Nathan isn't the best storyteller with his words, but I think I understand.

"And I don't believe in faith or whatever, but it got me thinking, you know? I didn't just get a miracle. I got two. And that's—" Nathan finally looks me in the eye again. "—gotta count for something, right?"

I think what Nathan is saying is that his sister picking up the phone that day of all the days—especially when she never usually does—has given him hope. A miracle, he calls it. Guess I'm not the only angel around Nathan. Wait…

"You said two," I say. "What was the other one?"

Nathan breaks into a shy smile, blushing. "You, Max." He breathes a chuckle. "You put up with all of my crap and that's a fucking miracle to me."

I'm flattered, and I think I might be blushing even harder, but I shake my head. "I just did what anyone should have."

"No," he retorts. "I think you did what only you could have."

"Right," I say. "Time powers."

Nathan shakes his head at that, smiling, and I don't quite get what he means by it.

"Tell me about that other time," Nathan says, grabbing my attention.

"Other time?" I repeat.

"When we were best friends," he says with the same smile that's been breaking my heart all night.

Flashes of that cold beautiful night enter my mind. Nathan and I lying on the back of his truck watching the bright twinkling stars, soft music lulling us to peace. The memory brings me comfort. It hasn't been that long ago, but it feels long enough to make me nostalgic for it.

"It was amazing, Nathan," I say fondly. "Every Wednesday is 'Midnight Movie Night' for us. We take a drive to this cliff overlooking the beach and watch movies on your laptop under the stars."

"That does sound amazing," he says.

I contemplate telling Nathan this for a second, and I decide I would. "We were also almost—" I pause to breathe an awkward laugh, "—more than friends too, you know."

Nathan raises an interested eyebrow. "Oh, yeah?"

"Mm-hmm." I nod. "In fact, you confessed to me."

He barks a laugh. "You say that like you didn't like me either."

I can't help but laugh too, before I exclaim defensively, "you don't know that. You weren't there!"

"But I know you like me now, so…" He trails off, eyes looking into mine a little too intently.

I look away to try and hide the blush creeping up my cheeks. Something about this whole conversation is so familiar.

"I'm glad, Max."

"Hm?"

"That, at least, in another time…" Nathan looks at me with sad eyes, smiling. "… everything works out."

My heart sinks. Nathan's words are sweet, but the look in his eyes say something else. Seeing him like this… hurts. I keep needing to leave timelines where Nathan's become a better person. It almost seems unfair, like I can't have both Chloe and Nathan. The universe keeps making me choose between them.

"Max, promise me something."

Anticipating what Nathan will say has me nervous. The last time he asked me to make him a promise, he ended up calling me from the junkyard to settle the score with Jefferson. And that isn't exactly how this came about.

"If it comes down to it, don't hesitate. Not for me. I'm ready to face the consequences."

"What?" I ask, dumbfounded.

"You know," he says, brows knit in determination. But his eyes tell a different story, one of a boy who deep down is very much afraid. "If fixing this whole mess means undoing everything, let me do it, Max."

No. He isn't actually suggesting that.

"What—what are you saying, Nathan?"

"I heard what that genius was talking about and look, I may have shit for grades but that's not because I'm an idiot. And if what he says is true, then…" He pauses to take a quick breath. "… you know what you need to do, Max."

"You'll go to jail, Nathan. For murder."

He looks down, averting his eyes. "I'm heading there anyway, either way."

"But—"

"But nothing, Max. You have to do it. I have to do it." This time, he takes my hand, smiling through those eyes. "I'm sorry, Max. There's no other way."

I shake my head and pull my hand away from his. "No, I'm sorry, Nathan. I failed you. I can't save you either. It's been doomed from the very beginning. I'm just too late."

"Max, listen to me."

I meet his eyes, desperately holding out the tears threatening to fall from my own eyes.

"This isn't your fault. You hear me? It's not your job to save me, or anyone." He says this slowly, as if to really get it through to me but I don't know if it's working. "You've saved me enough. More than enough times than I deserve, or that you ever needed to. Thank you, Max. Everything you've done for me is more than I could ever ask for."

I find that I can no longer stop the tears, and so I let them fall.

"Hey," he says, leaning in to gently wipe my tears with his fingers. "Shh, don't, Max. It's okay."

I've known it was too late for Nathan. He'd already been far gone when I got my powers and it's not like we have any photos together that I can conveniently jump into. There's just nothing else I can do now. He's right. It just hurts more that he knows this too, and that he's accepted it.

"Where's the photo, Max?" He asks in a voice so gentle.

"It's here," I whisper, laying the photo on the space on the table between us.

But I don't want to go. I don't want to leave this moment, this Nathan.

I shake my head. "I can't."

"You have to, Max," he says, taking my hand once again. He sniffs, and I realize Nathan had been holding back tears too. "Come here."

Nathan motions for me to lean forward and when I do, he does too. He cups the sides of my face. His hands are rough, but they feel warm and comforting. Finally, he rests his forehead on mine and closes his eyes. He's breathing so hard, I could practically feel it on my skin.

"Even when I've forgotten, we'll still have this," he whispers. "Our memories. You'll always have them, Max. So, promise me this instead. Promise you won't forget."

"I—" I pause to gain my breath. "I promise, Nathan."

We stay still, both of us refusing to let this moment go, to let it turn into the memory he'll soon won't know exists. I have to protect it. This memory. It has to live on with me, just like I promised.

After what felt like forever, Nathan finally leans back in his seat and I follow suit. I take a moment to look around us, and find both Warren and Joyce with their eyes fixed on the floor downcast. I realize we've got an audience, but I see they've attempted to give us some ounce of privacy.

I turn back to Nathan, and he smiles. I smile back, and I do my best to memorize this image. Of Nathan's messy rain drenched hair, his beautiful eyes squinted just slightly, and the corner of his lips tugged upward in the warmest grin.

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath, preparing myself for what's to come. As I open my eyes, Nathan silently mouths me one final message.

Thank you.