October 13, 2013
FEMA Relief Camp
Tillamook, Oregon
I'm fine. Everything is going to be fine. I'm insanely nervous and Taylor is going to be here any minute now and my palms are sweating which is apparently an actual thing, but that's all fine.
Max said that Taylor's gay, and I trust Max. Chloe's pretty sure that Taylor's bi, at least, and Max trusts Chloe. And just because I've never seen Taylor show the slightest interest in girls, that doesn't mean that Max and Chloe are both totally wrong and that Taylor's going to freak out and not be my friend anymore and possibly slap me.
Actually, she might do that last one no matter what she is. I may have it coming.
I mean, sure, maybe I should've been a little faster responding to one of her 38 text messages. Or maybe I could've returned one of her calls. And maybe it wasn't the most mature strategy to turn off my phone and hide like a coward in my motel room until Max threatened to drag me out kicking and screaming.
It's just that after I ran into Courtney and she told me (after she was done with all the crying and hugging) how frantic Taylor was, I got myself so psyched out that I almost booked myself a flight to Ohio. It's not that I actually wanted to go to Ohio; it had just been the first flight I could probably make it to.
Yeah, I wasn't in a very clear headspace. And, if I'm being honest, I was still a little drunk.
I don't know if I actually would've done it, though, because before I had a chance Chloe grabbed my phone out of my fucking hand and called Taylor for me. I could actually hear Tay yelling before Chloe suggested she save it for when she saw me in person.
Fucking bitch.
Then she agreed on a time and place (without so much as asking me!), hung up, tossed my phone back and had the fucking gall to say 'you're welcome'.
So now I'm here, sitting on the bleachers of one of the baseball diamonds FEMA has taken over, trying not to pick at my fingernails or think about whether I still have time to run away and hide.
"God damn it, Victoria..." I mutter. "Just calm your shit down already."
There's nothing to be nervous about.
It's fine.
I'm fi-
"Victoria!"
Oh my god, there she is.
Rocketing to my feet, I spin around to see the only girl I've ever loved, standing right there looking beautiful and vibrant and full of life and really fucking pissed.
"H-hey Tayl-"
"Where in the fuck have you been?!" she shouts, cutting me off.
"I..." Okay, I'm trying really hard to think of a good answer to that, but she's not making it easy. In fact, she's making it really, really hard because she's really mad. And while I acknowledge that's actually a bad thing, it doesn't change the fact that Taylor is so unbelievably hot when she's angry. Her cheeks are all flushed and her eyes are blazing and she's practically humming with barely restrained energy. I swear, it just makes me want to drag her somewhere out of sight and tear her clothes off.
I don't even care that it's me she's pissed at right now. It's like staring down a sexy tiger.
"It's been two days! Do you have any idea how scared I've been?! You couldn't even...call...me..." Her voice trails off, the anger in her features fading as she moves closer; close enough that I can smell her shampoo. It smells really, really nice.
She raises her hand, very slowly. I feel the feather-light touch of her fingertips on my cheek a second later. My heart is racing and I'm suddenly too flustered to think of anything to say. It's been so long since I saw her last. And even though she's just as beautiful as she was in my memories, it's her eyes that leave me breathless. They're wide and so full of emotion as she searches my face for something.
"T-Taylor?" I say, my voice squeaking. She doesn't respond, and I can't suppress my shiver when her fingers move to glide delightfully through my hair. "What is it?"
"You're different." She lifts her other hand to cup my cheek. I'm blushing so hard I'm surprised she doesn't burn herself. "There's something, but I can't quite..."
"Yeah, I am." This seemed like it'd be a lot easier to explain in my head. "The thing is, I'm kind of..."
"Older," she murmurs, and my already unstable thought process slams to a halt.
How could she have guessed that? I'm not like Max. I look just like I used to! Same hair, same make up, same body, more or less. I'd been so sure that I'd have to convince her. That it'd be a huge, uphill battle getting her to believe a truth I could barely prove. Not that she'd just...just...guess. Even if I'm, like, an inch taller, that isn't the kind of thing that people notice at a glance!
"I'm sorry." She looks like she's stuck somewhere between bewilderment and embarrassment. "Not in a bad way, I swear!"
Son of a bitch! Now I owe Chloe ten bucks. Apparently, she'd realized Max was older the second she saw her and thought Taylor would realize the same thing about me. I'd countered (for some reason) that Chloe knew time travel was a thing, and that Taylor hadn't noticed anything about Max.
Then Chloe pointed out that to Taylor, Max wasn't even in the same galaxy as me, which was something I found annoyingly hard to argue with. And of course, she just had to be right. I just know she's gonna be a smug asshole about it, too.
"How did you know?" I whisper. I didn't mean to say it out loud, but for a second her bafflement disappears. It's just long enough to give me a look that screams 'are you kidding me?'. Of course she noticed. There was a time when I changed my foundation to something half a shade darker, and Taylor noticed it from across the room.
"Vicky." The sound of that name on her lips sends a rush of emotion right through my heart. "What's going on? Where have you been?"
"It's..." I swallow. My mouth is so dry that my tongue feels like sandpaper. "It's complicated. Can we...I mean, we should probably sit down."
"Sure." She nods again, letting me lead her to a bench. I give her a little space, not wanting to overwhelm her, but the second we sit she takes one of my hands in both of hers. Honestly, I have absolutely no issue with that.
"Before I get into this whole...thing," I begin. "I want you to know that I was worried about you, too. I can't even tell you how happy I was when I found out you'd gotten out of town safely."
"Yeah, that was intense." She laughs, a little nervously. "It definitely got a little touch and go for a minute there, but we made it."
"Intense?" I ask, a little confused. "I thought Blackwell was evacuated before the sky had even clouded over."
"Yeah, but..." She trails off. "Never mind."
"What do you mean, never mind?"
"Forget it."
"You got out with the other Blackwell students, right?"
"We can talk about it later, Victoria."
"Or we can talk about it no-"
"Hey! I'm not the one who's here to explain herself, remember?" she fires back.
"Fine," I sigh. I can let it go for now, but we'll definitely be coming back to it.
"Good. You can start by explaining how you knew about the storm. There wasn't any sign that it was coming, but you still knew to warn me."
Looks like past-Victoria decided to get proactive. I wish I could thank her for that.
"That's kind of a tough question to answer." I'd kind of hoped to ease into this, but no; Taylor had to go and be all perceptive and to-the-point. "I'm not sure where to start."
"Anywhere is fine, I guess. I mean, you did say you were going to tell me everything," she mentions, casually, as if I'm supposed to know that.
"I did?"
"Yes, you did. It was right after you...y'know..." She glances away, smiles, and mumbles something that sounds a hell of a lot like 'kissed me'."
What?
What?
Holy shit! When I told baby-me she should tell Taylor how she felt, I didn't think her closeted ass would do it right away! And now I have to jump in with no idea what...wait a sec.
Taylor's here. I (kinda) kissed Taylor and she's still here. She was worried about me and was out looking for me and she's smiling after I kissed her. She didn't run!
"I...I kissed you?"
"I mean, I know it wasn't a kiss kiss, but..." I guess I look about as bewildered as I feel, because she trails off and peers at me uncertainly. "You don't remember?"
"No." Her hurt expression is like a knife right through my heart, so I hurry to add, "But there's a reason for that! My memories of the last few days don't exactly match yours."
The hurt vanishes, but nothing really appears to replace it. She's just staring at me, blankly. "...excuse me?"
"It's like, let's pretend I don't remember anything between now and...er..." When did Max say she talked to the other Victoria? Everything would be the same before then, right? "About four o'clock Wednesday afternoon."
"Are you saying - like, literally saying - that you don't remember the last four days?"
"No, I do. But I remember them differently. I mean, I remember a different version."
"What do you mean, a different version? There isn't another version. There's one version, Vicky. Reality isn't multiple choice."
"Actually..."
She's starting to look concerned. "Victoria, what the hell is going on?"
"I..." Fuck it. I'm done with this shy uncertainty crap. "It's alright, Sweet-T. I've got a lot to tell you. You trust me, right?"
"Of course," she responds instantly. "You know I do."
"Good, because if I'm going to tell you everything then that means I have to tell you everything, and it's a pretty insane story. There're parts of it I can prove, and parts that you'll just need to take my word for. Either way, I swear every word of it is true. Do you believe me?"
She nods, giving my hands a little squeeze.
"So, there're two parts to this. One of them is huge, unbelievable, kind of scary, and is probably going to change the way you look at me for the rest of our lives. The other one..." I hesitate; this intro seemed so clever in my head, but now that I'm saying it, it just sounds kind of vague and weird. "...is a little more complicated?"
"Okay..." She's back to looking worried. I think the whole 'Victoria looks older' thing is the only reason she doesn't already think I'm nuts. "How about we start with the big scary thing and go from there?"
"Right. Big scary thing. No problem." I take a breath. "So, I...uh...I don't remember kissing you, and we'll get to why I don't remember in a minute. What's more important right now is that I really, really, really wish I did remember, because...because I..."
Regret is a terrible thing to live with. Never again.
"Because I love you, Taylor. Because I'm in love with you."
"Y-you do?" Her eyes go wide. "You are?"
"So, so much."
She looks like she has about a million questions whirling around in her head, but the one that makes it to the surface is a confused, "Since when?"
"Since we..." I try to smile, but it probably comes out as more of a cringe. "...spent Christmas together?"
"Christmas," she echoes. "As in, last Christmas?"
"That's right."
"Seriously?" She's staring at the ground, looking completely bewildered, and I've got no idea why. "Last Christmas?"
"Okay, I know it's kind of..." Fucked up that I'd been loving her in secret for almost ten months? "...been a while. But I was really closeted back in 2013. I mean, now in 2013. Or back when I was in 2013...the first time." Groaning, I drop my face into my hands. "Fuck."
"Last Christmas," she murmurs again. I don't think she heard my time travel related rambling just now, which is probably for the best. "You've been in love with me since last Christmas...when I spent a whole week flirting with you?"
"That's rig-" I stop, puzzling over her last nine words. But no matter how many times I run through them in my head, they just don't make any sense. "I'm sorry...you did what?"
"Flirted with you. All week. Heavily."
"No, you didn't." That's ridiculous. She's ridiculous. Taylor is being a ridiculous girl right now. "...did you?"
"Are you kidding me, Vicky?" She laughs. God, I've missed her laugh so much. "I couldn't have been more obvious if I'd climbed into your lap and pulled my shirt off."
"But you...I..."
"I even kissed you, dummy!" God help me, she's cute as hell when she's exasperated with me.
"No, you didn't!" I say, like a complete idiot, considering that kiss pretty much changed my life.
"Yes, I did. Right there." Her fingertip gently brushes the corner of my lips and I feel a little tingle go through my whole body. "Seriously, do you have any idea how long I had to wait near that mistletoe?"
Taylor waited by the mistletoe? For me? "H-how long?"
"Over the whole week?" She gives me an embarrassed smile. "Maybe a couple of hours."
Okay, that's just stupid. There's no way I wouldn't have noticed...wait a sec. I remember now. All those times she'd leave the room, call out for me to help her with something, then we'd end up meeting in the hall. Or the morning I came down for breakfast, and she looked surprised (and, looking back, a little annoyed) that I walked into the kitchen through the dining room entrance instead of the mistletoe decorated living room entrance.
That image prompts another, then another after that. It's just a trickle at first, then a stream, then a river of memories rushing back to me. All the moments that I'd pushed into the background so I could obsess over that kiss, suddenly bursting into vibrant color. All the smiles and casual touches. Every wink and playful comment. The hugs that lasted the tiniest bit longer than I was used to. The way she'd always seemed to want to be near me.
All the scary movies she suggested watching, even though I know she hates them, and all the time she spent curled up beside me with her face pressed into my shoulder.
The look of warm affection in her eyes every time I'd walk into the room.
Seventeen-year-old Victoria hadn't noticed any of it, of course. That idiot was still kinda half-wondering why she enjoyed watching the cheerleader routines more than the football games. But looking back now? "Oh my god..."
"What?" Taylor asks, looking a little nervous.
"Oh my god!" I laugh, giving her a playful shove. "You thirsty bitch! You were all over me that week!"
She blinks, her mouth moving silently for a second, then throws her arms up in frustration. "Oh, for fuck's sake! Now you notice?!"
"Well, why didn't you just say something?" I ask, even though that's probably the dumbest question in the universe. Maybe for the exact same reason I didn't say anything to her for almost ten months?
"Gee, Victoria, I don't know. Maybe because I was in love with you and scared to death about it?"
Called it.
Wait, what?
"Say that again?"
"I was scared to death! You're my best friend and I was, like, ninety percent sure you were straight."
"No, that's not what I...you were in love with me?"
"I still am, you idiot!" she laughs. "You're clever, and beautiful, and passionate, and you've always, always been there for me. Vicky, I'm crazy about you!"
Wow. Taylor loves me.
Taylor loves me. And at the risk of overstating things, that might be the greatest thing that's ever happened to anyone in the history of the world.
"I love you," I say, suddenly.
"I know," she laughs.
"No," I grasp her hands again, looking into her eyes, aching to hear the words. "I love you, Taylor."
Her lips curve into a warm smile. "I love you, too, Victoria."
Okay, forget what I said before. That is the greatest thing that's ever happened to anyone in the history of the world.
I've dreamt of what it'd be like to hear her say that for nearly three years, and it's still feels better than I could've imagined. Everything feels amazing. I feel amazing, and I'm pretty sure Taylor does too. I haven't seen her smile like this since my sixteenth birthday party, after we all played spin the bottle and I oh my fucking god.
"Hang on...how long have you felt this way about me?"
"Oh, uh..." She suddenly seems very interested in looking anywhere but at me. "...a while, I guess?"
"Taylor..."
"It's not like I was really keeping tra-" I reach out and pinch her arm. "Ow!"
"Remember who you're talking to."
"The girl I love?"
Okay, if she thinks that's going to...distract...me...wow. That's me. I'm the girl she lov-focus! "Uh-huh. Nice try."
"Fine," she huffs. "Maybe...possibly...since your sixteenth birthday?"
"I knew it!"
"And I know two years is a long..." she blinks. "Wait, you what?"
"I just remembered! We all played spin the bottle but when it was your turn it landed on me. Then Crissy Mordan called you a dyke-in-training and I slapped her so hard her retainer flew across the room."
"You remember that?"
"Of course I do. Crissy was a bitch to you, so I smacked her right in her stupid bitch face. I'd do it again, too." I feel my cheeks heat up a little. "I kinda also remember the way you spent the rest of the party pretty much glued to my side."
"Well, yeah. You were my hero." She grins and lifts one of my hands to her lips, softly kissing it. "You're still my hero."
Okay, this is it. My last chance to chicken out, because after this there's no turning back. "You know, two years isn't that long to wait."
She blinks. "It isn't?"
"Not really." I'm standing at a crossroads right now, and I won't say I haven't considered both paths.
If I really wanted to, I could jump right into my old life, this time with Taylor, and blame any lapses in memory on an unfortunate head wound I suffered during the storm. I could probably even explain my appearance away. Just a few lies, and I can leave those two lost years behind me once and for all. Taylor would believe me. Everyone would believe me. And even if Max and Chloe didn't like it, I could probably talk them into backing me up.
Or I can tell Taylor the truth, which is exactly what I'm going to do. Because I love her, and she loves me. And because I'll be ashamed of myself for the rest of my life if I don't. If I lied to her about this, I wouldn't deserve to be with her at all.
Okay...deep breath...here we go. "I mean, I've loved you for almost three."
She blinks. "But you said it was just since last Christmas."
"That's right." I nod, confusing her even more. "See, this is the part where things start to get complicated."
Kate wasn't embarrassed about that night, Victoria. She was terrified. She couldn't remember what happened, most of her own family was shitting all over her, and you tormented her about it so much that she wanted to kill herself! You need to take that video of her down RIGHT NOW and go beg for her forgiveness.
Life is going to get a lot harder when her story hits the news. She's going to have reporters harassing her constantly. I never forgave myself for what I did to her, but now you have a chance to make things right. We both know you can be a cast-iron bitch, but it's time to use your powers for good.
Look out for her, Victoria. She's counting on you.
FEMA Field Hospital
Tillamook, Oregon
She was going to kill herself, and it was all my fault. That's the thought that's been rattling around my head for two long years.
Kate Marsh, who never did anything to hurt anyone, was going to kill herself because of me. Looking back, it feels like one minute we were just giving her a hard time (because I had decided, for some fucking reason, that she needed to be taken down a peg) and the next minute she was up on that roof. And what's really messed up is that while I was standing there, looking up at a girl I'd practically driven to her breaking point, all I could think was 'why is this happening?'.
This isn't the first time my mind has followed this particular path, and just like every time the sheer guilt makes me want to throw up.
Why didn't I try to help her? Did the idea even come to mind? Or was I too busy filming her on my fucking phone. Who the fuck does something like that? I don't know if it makes me a coward or just a callous bitch. Sometimes it feels like both. What's worse, I've finally got the chance to make things right, and all I've done is sit here and stare at the cluster of prefabricated structures that make up the FEMA field hospital.
Right now, I think the scales are tilted more toward coward.
Taylor offered to come in with me, but I got the stupid idea in my head that this was something I needed to do alone. She'd insisted that Kate would want to talk to me and wasn't going to just scream at me (still not sure about that...) but I'm still wishing I hadn't turned her down.
"Fuck this," I finally say to myself, rising from the bench I've been warming for nearly twenty minutes. "No more stalling."
Swallowing, I allow myself one last second to steel my nerves before I head in.
Pushing the door open, I spot a man in scrubs sitting at a folding table. He looks up at me with a semi-genuine smile. "Can I help you?"
"Uh...yeah. I'm looking for someone. I think she's here."
"Name?"
"Victoria Chase." When he starts skimming the list of names on his clipboard, I add, "Sorry, that's my name. I meant Kate Marsh."
He glances up but doesn't comment. A second later he finds her name, tells me her bed number, and gestures to a canvas door. The hospital is basically a huge tent, and its interior is just a big open space that's been separated into dozens of smaller spaces with free-standing curtains, offering the patients at least some semblance of privacy.
I slowly make my way down the row, counting off the numbered tags that hang next to each cot. I reach Kate's sooner than I'd have liked, take a deep breath, raise my fist, then slowly lower it when I realize how stupid I'd look knocking on a curtain divider. Instead, I hesitantly push the fabric aside and lean in, only to discover that the space inside is empty. It's not unoccupied; there are a few personal things, including a familiar sketchbook sitting on top of the neatly folded blanket. Unfortunately, the girl herself is nowhere to be seen.
"Damn it," I mutter, debating whether I should try looking around or wait for her here when a small voice from behind almost scares the living hell out of me.
"Victoria?"
Startled, I spin around to find Kate Marsh standing right there with an armful of blankets, looking curiously back at me.
The last time I saw her in person was two years ago, when she was standing on that roof in the pouring rain. I sent her a card while she was in the hospital, before the storm blasted it off the face of the Earth along with the rest of the town, and every day since I've wished I'd gone to apologize in person.
Now here she is, alive and well, and everything I've always wanted to say to her vanishes from my mind in the blink of an eye. "I...uh..."
"Are you okay?" she asks, taking a tentative step closer. She looks a little wary, but there's no anger or hatred in her eyes. It's not much, but I'll take what I can get. Glancing down, I'm not surprised to see a volunteer armband around Kate's bicep. Of course she'd stay and help. As if I didn't already feel like dirt by comparison.
"...h-hey, Kate, " I say, cursing the tremor in my voice as I shift from one foot to the other. "How are you doing?"
How is she doing? Seriously? I should just slap myself and save her the trouble.
"I'm...alright." The wariness in Kate's eyes slowly turns into curiosity as she glances between me and her 'room'. "Were you looking for me?"
"Yeah, I was." I nod. "I was hoping we could talk. If you're not busy, I mean."
Even though she has absolutely no reason to trust me, she still offers me a small, polite smile. "Sure. Come in."
Shuffling into the small space, I take a seat on a folding metal chair as she places the blankets she'd been carrying on the end of her cot. It's not until she settles herself down beside them that I notice the cast on her left arm. "Is that from when you fell during the storm?"
She glances down at it. "That's right. How'd you know about that?"
"I talked to Taylor. She told me about..." I shake my head, still kind of astonished that Kate and Taylor rescued all those people. "Sounds like you two had an interesting time."
"That's one word for it," she chuckles. I'd forgotten what her laughter sounded like. Or maybe I never really knew.
"I'm surprised you're still here." I cringe. "I mean, I'm surprised your parents haven't taken you home."
"They wanted to, but I wanted stay as a volunteer," she responds, simply, because of course she wouldn't leave. "They did take Alice, though."
"...Alice?"
"My rabbit."
"Oh. Right. " I look down at the cast again, smiling a little when I notice the words 'A WILD KATE APPEARS!' in Taylor's handwriting. There's also signatures from Alyssa Anderson, Brooke Scott, Warren Graham, Evan Harris, and a bunch of others I can't read from this angle. There are a few patches of empty space and I'd love to sign, too, but there's no way I'm going to ask. "Does...does it hurt at all?"
"A little. Nothing I can't handle. One of the FEMA doctors was able to cast it, and I'm right-handed anyway, so it doesn't really bother me."
"That's good."
We lapse into silence for a moment. She doesn't push, patiently waiting for me to gather my thoughts. The quiet is stifling, and for a second I kind of wish she would just start screaming at me.
Humility isn't a new experience for me; the knowledge that I'd nearly driven someone to suicide certainly took the edge off my sense of superiority and losing virtually everything and everyone I knew a few days later pretty much annihilated the rest. Still, I fidget for a moment before forcing myself to look her in the eye.
"I'm sorry," I begin, simply. "I know how insanely inadequate that must feel after all I've done, but I'm so, so sorry."
"You are?" Kate asks, and her brief look of surprise that I could even be sorry feels like a punch in the stomach.
"Of course I am. I was cruel for no good reason at all. I didn't think for one second about how much you were hurting. I was a monster to you and I...I had no right."
She regards me quietly. "...then why did you do it?"
"Because..." I'd known the question was coming. How could it not be? The feeling of choking guilt returns as I search for an answer that doesn't make me sound like some kind of fucking sadist. "Because it made me feel superior."
"Hm." Kate looks down, her fingertip playing at one of the pages in her sketchbook. "I talked to a councilor here. He says that a lot of bullies act the way they do because they have poor self-esteem."
My own therapist told me the same thing, more than once. "He's right. And I was a bully."
She seems genuinely surprised by the admission. I think she expected me to argue with the idea. To be fair, back in 2013, I probably would have.
"You always seemed so sure of yourself." I continue. It's hard to admit, but I refuse to hide behind lies. "You were so open with people and secure in your faith and it made me feel like a phony. I resented you for that, and I couldn't think of any way to cope other than tearing you down. I'm so, so sorry for that."
"You're not a phony, Victoria," Kate says, her voice gentler that I would have ever expected. Then she rocks my world a little by adding, "And I accept your apology."
"You do? Just like that?"
"Of course I do. It takes courage for someone to admit when they were wrong, and even more to genuinely apologize for it."
"O-oh." Kate's face seems to blur and a second passes before I realize I'm crying. It feels like a thousand pounds have been lifted from my shoulders. Before I can say anything, Kate tilts her head to one side, smiles slightly, and leans forward to pull me into a gentle hug.
It's too much - more than I had ever let myself hope for - and the rush of emotion that hits me feels like a punch to the gut. A heaving sob breaks free, then another as I finally let go of the guilt and self-loathing that's been clawing at my throat for so, so long.
The harder I try to get myself under control, the more I feel like I'm spiraling. And all the while Kate holds me steady, whispering reassuring words and rubbing gentle circles on my back.
It feels like forever before the sobs begin to fade, but before too long I'm down to mere sniffles as I stare at the floor between our feet. Kate continues to rub my back, and I alternate between feeling comforted by the gesture and feeling guilty about feeling comforted.
"Any better?" Kate asks, eventually, and I look up to stare at her incredulously.
"Did you really just ask how I'm feeling?"
Kate nods solemnly.
"Seriously, how can you be so forgiving?"
"Practice, I guess?" She shrugs, offering a tiny smile that somehow makes me feel even worse. "Victoria, can I...can I ask you something?"
"Of course," I answer, without hesitation. "Whatever you want."
"Why are you apologizing now? I'm not trying to be mean," she hurries to add. "But are you apologizing because you genuinely feel bad over what happened? Or is it just because the storm scared you?"
"I..." I take a second to come up with an explanation that doesn't involve time travel, but it's going to come up sooner or later and I swore to myself that I'd be honest. "Because I feel horrible for what I did. And because the guilt has been eating me alive for so long that I almost forgot what it was like to live without it."
Her brow furrows. "But it's only been..."
"And because Max is a time traveler."
I expect her to look shocked or incredulous, but she just blinks and asks, "She told you about that?"
Honestly, I don't know why I expected anything else. "Wait, Max told you about that?"
"When she and Chloe visited me at the hospital." There's a faint hint of reproach in her tone, and an unasked question. You put me there, but why didn't you come see if I was okay?
"Oh. That's good. That you know, I mean. It'll help with the rest." Alright, here goes. Taking a deep breath, I ask, "It's been about four days since the last time you saw me, right?"
She thinks for a second. "That sounds right."
"Well...the thing is..." I swallow. "It's been seven-hundred and thirty-three days since the last time I saw you."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Take a look at me Kate." I lean a little closer. "Really look. See the details."
It's kind of amazing to watch her pick out all the subtle differences. I wonder, if I looked in a mirror would I be able to see everything she does? A few seconds later, she lets out a soft gasp and reaches up to touch the crucifix around her neck. It's a nervous gesture I've seen her do before, but it beats the hell out of running and screaming.
"You're like Max," she murmurs. "You're from the future."
"That's right."
"Did you...You came back with her?"
"No. I didn't turn up until just before the storm hit. Before that it was all twenty-thirteen Victoria. Honestly, I wasn't even supposed to come back at all. Max and I have no idea how it happened." I laugh nervously. "Just lucky, I guess."
"Lucky..." she echoes, staring at nothing. I'm not sure if she's overwhelmed or just deep in thought, but I haven't said everything I came to say yet.
"There...uh..." I sigh heavily. "There's one other thing."
She looks up, her expression caught somewhere between curiosity and apprehension. "Yes?"
"Y-yeah," I nod. "It's about the...uh...the video."
Kate's eyes darken, just a little. "What about it?"
"I found out what happened to you that night. It was..."
"Nathan," she interrupts. "And Mr. Jefferson. The police already talked to me."
For a second, I want to say 'me, too! it happened to me! I know what you're going through!', but I don't. Not right now. This conversation isn't about me.
"Oh," I nod. "Well, I deleted the original video post. It's the internet, though, so other people probably made copies."
"They did." Kate sighs. "I have a cousin who seemed to enjoy finding them and sending the links around. I think she thought it was funny."
For the first time since I came here, I feel a familiar fire ignite inside me. "Oh, that little bitc-"
"Victoria," Kate interrupts warningly. "She's only twelve, and my uncle has already talked to her about it. She apologized, too. It just means that I have to live with knowing that it's probably going to be out there forever."
"Maybe not. I talked to my parents and told them what happened. They...weren't happy." It'd be more accurate to say they were fucking furious at me, but that's between me and my parents. And I think it helped that I begged them to let me stay here and make up for it rather than return to Seattle. "Anyway, it turns out that there are actually companies that specialize in getting stuff like that removed from the internet. They've already contracted one to find and take down every online copy."
Kate looks shocked again, but I hesitantly classify it as a good kind of shock. "That sounds expensive."
"You don't have to worry about that."
"Victoria, I can't accept your mon-"
"It's already done. And don't worry about money. I've taken care of that, too."
"What do you mean?" she asks, giving me a suspicious look.
"We'll get to that later, I promise." Kate's distrustful look still hurts a little, even if it's exactly what I deserve. "Look, we've got some time, at least, because right now the storm is all anyone is talking about. But it's a safe bet that sooner or later the news is going to go looking for more content. My dad hopes that we can make the video disappear before they do, but..."
"But there's a chance it could end up on TV." Kate winces, curling into herself a bit.
"I'm so, so sorry." I don't think I'll ever be able to apologize to her enough.
"It's..." She shrugs, a little listlessly. "It's fine, I guess."
"It's not fine, and that's completely my fault," I insist. "But no matter what happens from now on, I want you to know that I'll be here for you. If you ever need someone to talk to, or even somewhere to hide from reporters, just give me a call. Day or night, okay?"
She eyes me for a long moment, then nods. "...okay."
"Okay. And if anyone around here gives you any more grief..." I slap my fist into my open palm.
Kate's eyes widen and she shakes her head emphatically. "Please don't do that."
"I'm just kidding," I reassure her, then add, "Y'know...mostly."
"Victoria..."
"All I'm trying to say is that you're not alone anymore, Kate." I risk a small smile and lightly place my hand over hers. "Whatever happens next, I've got your back."