Mariana's pregnancy was an inside joke in our friend group. She told Jasmine and Ciara after we got back to school but swore them to secrecy. We started to refer to the baby by different fruit and vegetable names after Mariana told us she'd read on a website that the baby was the size of an apple at that point. She would update us on the new food, and we would adjust accordingly. Once the baby had reached the size of a mango, Mariana had learned it was a girl, which I'd already known. We still called her by food names, even though Mariana and Paolo had agreed to name her Olivia. By the time finals week arrived, she was the size of a rutabaga.

"What are you and Rutabaga wearing for graduation?" Jasmine asked Mariana at lunch on the last day of school.

"Nothing cute," Mariana said grumpily. "I don't want it to be obvious that I'm pregnant when I walk across the stage."

We all wisely kept it to ourselves that she wasn't hiding it from anyone. Despite never confirming it publicly, everyone knew Mariana was pregnant. She was one of about a dozen girls in the school who were having a baby sometime in the next few months. One other senior was pregnant, and one had given birth a month earlier. We called Oliva/Rutabaga an honorary member of the class of 2004.

The school year had finished faster than I expected. School had always seemed to drag by as a kid. Being a teenager again hadn't been as bad as I had expected, once I had gotten over the initial shock of it all. I'd forgotten the freedom of having other people in charge to make the big decisions. I had been allowed to go to school, work at the bakery a few hours a week, and hang out with my friends. I'd gotten everything sent into Rutgers for college in the fall and had started packing up my belongings. My parents arrived in Miami during Memorial Day weekend and graduation was Friday evening. We would be leaving to drive back to New Jersey on Sunday.

"I'm so proud of you," my mother said for the hundredth time that week. "Sending you down here was the right decision, even if it was the hardest thing to do."

"That's what I said about Julio," Amira said, patting her son on the back. "The time spent missing him has been worth it."

Julio rolled his eyes as our mothers went on about how worried they had been when we had gotten into our respective problems. We were in the backyard at my grandmother's house having dinner the night before graduation. Eduardo, his parents, my parents, my grandmother, Mariana, Julio, his three sisters, and his parents milled around the backyard and house. My grandmother had practically adopted Julio as a grandson, so it didn't feel abnormal for his family to be part of the celebration.

"Yeah, who would have thought Mariana would end up being the screw up of the group," Eduardo joked. He immediately regretted his words as my mother, grandmother, and his mother laid into him for being a dumbass. Mariana had been out of earshot and hadn't heard his comment. He might be an idiot sometimes, but he wouldn't have said that in front of her. I wanted to think it was because he loved her and didn't want to hurt her feelings, but I suspected it was mostly that he was terrified of her.

"When are you leaving Sunday?" Julio asked once we had snuck up to my bedroom. We were sitting on the floor leaning against my bed, which obscured all but our heads and shoulders from the door should someone walk in. Meaning they wouldn't be able to see us holding hands.

"Early. My father is convinced we can drive straight through with three of us driving. My mother wants to stop halfway. I'm just hoping to survive the trip. What about you?"

"Next weekend. I'm supposed to have everything packed up by Tuesday so we can ship it back. We leave on Friday. I'm not looking forward to living with my sisters again. It has been nice not fighting for time in the bathroom." Julio leaned his head against the bed. "Do you think we can be together one more time before then?"

I shrugged. "I don't know how. Any ideas?"

"We could get a hotel room," he suggested. "Somewhere outside of the neighborhood. We could just tell everyone we're doing something else for your last night in town."

"Mariana and Eduardo will want to know what we're doing."

Julio groaned. "Why are all our friends related to you?"

"I guess we're just lucky like that," I replied.

"I'll figure something out," Julio said. "I'll let you know Saturday what the plan is."

I graduated high school for the second time the next evening. My mother and grandmother were crying, my father patted me on the back a little too hard, and the rest of us rolled our eyes. Mariana and I were treated to dinner at our favorite restaurant, an almost unheard-of activity in my family. My grandmother was the embodiment of we have food at home. We were given money from various family members and my parents gave me a silver watch with my initials engraved on the back. I'd been wearing that same watch the day I was murdered. It was surreal to put the watch on my wrist, remembering the last time I wore it.

Julio told me that he would pick me up at ten the next morning but didn't tell me what we were doing. I waited until nine-forty-five to tell my family I was going out with Julio and I'd be back before it was too late. It hadn't given Mariana time to grill me on what we were doing and could she come along. Adult responsibilities were staring her in the face, and she wanted to enjoy her last few child-free weeks as much as she could.

"My cousin Mario has a house in South Miami. He called me yesterday to tell me he was sorry he couldn't come to graduation because he was out of town. I told him I needed a quiet place to hook up before I left to go back to Chicago. He told me his garage door code and just said to change the sheets before we leave," Julio said, grinning unapologetically at that last part. He was driving his grandmother's blue Toyota Corolla, which his father had let him use since she wasn't capable of driving it anymore.

He reached over and held my hand as we left Little Havana. The confused feelings I'd lived with since Christmas about the relationship between us had started to fade. I knew I wasn't romantically in love with him, but I couldn't deny that something was there. He was my best friend and I loved him that way, but there was something I couldn't name there as well. It was obvious I was attracted to him at some level. I was having sex with him and enjoying it. But today was our last day together. We would go off to separate colleges after this. I wouldn't see him very often, even though we would keep in touch. One day he would find his way back to Jasmine, and Stephanie and I would watch them get married in Key West.

"I'm taking you out on a date," Julio said, interrupting my thoughts. "I figured I should do it once before I lose you."

I squeezed his hand. "You aren't losing me. You're my best friend. We may not be in the same city anymore, but you aren't losing me."

"That's good to know," he replied, smiling widely. "I was planning to be so good to you today that you'd never be able to forget me. Maybe I don't need to work so hard now."

I laughed. "Don't let that stop you. It won't be stopping me."

I had been expecting to end up at his cousin's house and was surprised when Julio turned into the parking lot the Miami zoo. I looked over at him in surprise.

"What? I like the zoo," he said with a shrug. "And my cousin's house isn't too far from here."

Once Julio paid for our tickets, we spent the next few hours walking through the zoo and checking out the different exhibits. The zoo wasn't an activity I'd ever been particularly interested in, but seeing Julio's obvious enjoyment made it fun. He was like a big kid sometimes. We held hands as we walked through the zoo. I kept an eye out for anyone we might know, but thankfully there was no one. He stopped to kiss me a couple of times, once by the koala exhibit and another time by the gorillas. Julio always managed to surprise me with his confidence in being with me. Being openly affectionate as a teenage boy with a girlfriend was very different than with another guy. Julio didn't care. If I'd left it up to him, everyone would have known about us. He would have held my hand at school, no matter what people said. He would have kissed me in front of our friends. He would have told his father that I was his boyfriend. I was the one with twenty years more life experience, but he was the more self-assured one when it came to our relationship.

We left the zoo in the early afternoon and went to his cousin's house. It was less than ten minutes from the zoo in a quiet, middle-class neighborhood. We parked in the driveway of a single-story white house. The yard was neat, but simply landscaped. Julio punched in the code on the garage door, and we walked inside. The house clearly belonged to a single man. Minimal decoration. Leather sofa, large screen television, large coffee table, and a couple of lamps filled the living room. Julio grabbed my hand and pulled me down a hallway into a bedroom. There was a queen-sized bed with a black metal frame and matching nightstands on either side.

Julio didn't waste any time getting out of his clothes or getting me out of mine. We spent the next couple of hours in bed, taking recovery breaks before going another round. This would be our last time together, and we wanted to make the most out of it.

My phone rang around five and I dug around in the pile of clothes to find it.

"Mom and Lola want you to be home in time for dinner," Mariana said when I answered. "They want us to eat together since it's your last night in town."

I looked over at Julio, who was close enough to hear Mariana's voice. I raised my eyebrows and he nodded. "Okay. I'm bringing Julio."

I looked over at Julio after I hung up. His gaze was firmly on the ceiling. He had grown increasingly quiet as time passed, and I knew he was dreading the time when we would have to leave his cousin's house. I reached over and ran my hand over his head, his buzzed hair soft under my palm.

"We should start cleaning up," I said.

Julio sniffed and nodded. "I'm gonna miss you," he said, his eyes never leaving the ceiling.

"I'll miss you too," I said. And I meant it. We were much closer this time around than in my previous life. I would feel his absence significantly. Not just the sex, but his friendship.

I saw a tear slip out of his eye and fall down the side of his face. He wiped it away angrily.

"I know you don't love me. I wish you did. If you ever do, will you tell me?"

"Of course," I said. "And I do love you as a friend."

Julio sat up and climbed out of the bed. "I'll get in the shower. You can change the sheets. There are clean ones in the closet in the hall."

I followed him out of the room and stopped at the closet to grab sheets. I heard the shower start while I was stripping the bed. I tried to put myself in his shoes. I may not be in love with him, but I knew what it was like to love someone when you knew they didn't feel the same way. In my case, she was the only woman I loved, and I knew I wasn't the only man she loved. It was often painful, especially when I knew she was oblivious to what I was experiencing. I didn't know what would make him feel better. Maybe there wasn't anything I could say or do, but I wanted to make sure he knew that I took him and what he felt seriously. I left the dirty sheets on the floor and went into the bathroom. I climbed in the shower and Julio turned around in surprise.

"You aren't losing me," I told him. "We'll figure out ways to see each other over breaks. We'll talk on the phone. I'll come visit you in Chicago, and you can come to Newark. We can go into New York."

Julio gave me a rueful smile. "You're just trying to make me feel better. I'll be okay."

"I know you will. Girls love you. You'll be buried in pussy and time will fly by."

Julio laughed. "You still think I want girls?"

"I saw you checking a few out at the zoo. I would have told you off except I was checking them out too."

He traced a finger over my stomach. "You're still the only guy I'm interested in."

"Same. So we don't have to worry about that."

"Are you saying we can have all the girls we want, but other guys are off-limits?" he asked.

"Sure. If that will help you feel better."

Julio bit down on his bottom lip. It was a habit of his when he was excited, and I had noticed lately that it tended to make me excited. He nodded and leaned in to kiss me, which caused us to be late to dinner.

"What were you two doing all day?" my mother asked as we hurried in to take a seat.

"Went to the zoo, drove around, got some food, hit the beach," I said. All of it was true but the beach part. I figured that was a better substitute for fucking each other's brains out than a lot of other options.

"I'm glad you boys had some nice, clean fun on your last day together," my mother said getting close enough to sniff us. I leaned away from her.

"What are you doing, Mom?"

"Seeing if you smell like pot or alcohol," she said. "I guess you must be telling the truth."

I rolled my eyes. "Mom, please. Do you think we would have come back for dinner if we were drunk or high?"

"Yeah, Mrs. M. Give us a little more credit than that," Julio replied, giving my mother his most charming smile.

"Julio is a good boy," my grandmother said. "He and Carlos have been very good friends."

If she only knew.

My parents grilled Mariana and Julio on their college plans. Mariana was staying in Miami to study business administration, though she had pushed back her start date to the spring since she would be having the baby in September. She would be taking over my grandmother's bakery someday and needed to know how to keep a business running. Julio had started out studying psychology, but would eventually switch to physical education. I was also planning to study business, but I would never get my degree. I would enlist in the Army at the end of my sophomore year.

I followed Julio out to his car after dinner. "You good?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. I wish I had some of that weed your mom talked about. I'm gonna need it living with my mom and sisters again."

We leaned against his car and looked back at my grandmother's house. I could see my parents, Mariana and grandmother milling around. Everyone was getting ready for bed. My father was determined we would be on the road by five. That meant we would be on the road by six-thirty. My grandmother and mother didn't do short goodbyes.

"What's halfway between Newark and Chicago?" Julio asked.

"Pittsburgh? Cleveland?" I suggested. "I don't know for sure."

"Maybe we meet up halfway sometimes. We could always get tickets to games. Then we could say we did something other than each other."

"I like that idea. We'll do that."

Julio wrapped me in a tight hug. "I gotta go before my mother sends out a search party."

I waved as he pulled away and headed back inside. I found my grandmother waiting for me in the living room.

"It's always hard to say goodbye to our friends," she commented. "Especially given how close you two have been."

Something about her tone put me on guard. What did she mean by that? Did she suspect something?

"It'll be fine," I said casually. "We'll catch up at breaks and stuff."

My grandmother held my gaze longer than I was comfortable with. "You and Julio have been practically inseparable. I think it's harder than you want to admit."

I felt my mouth go dry. My grandmother knew something. Maybe not the full extent of it, but something.

"He's my best friend. I didn't have any real friends in Newark, so I wasn't leaving anyone behind when I came here. I guess it doesn't bother me as much since I know he's leaving town too. I'll probably miss Mariana more, but don't ever tell her I said that."

I saw the corners of her mouth twitch. "I won't tell her if you'll answer a couple of questions for me."

I did my best to keep my expression neutral. "Okay."

"Come outside with me," she said, gesturing towards the backyard. I followed her outside and we took seats on the patio furniture.

"Were you and Julio more than friends?"

"Why would you think that?" I asked calmly. Don't overreact or get defensive, I reminded my eighteen-year-old body.

"Because I've lived a long life, mijo. I know what it looks like when people are trying to hide a relationship. Especially teenagers. You aren't nearly as sneaky as you think."

I didn't say anything or let my neutral expression drop. How long had she known?

"I haven't told your mother, if that's what you're worried about," she continued. "I know what the church says about it, but after seeing how much better you two boys got in the last couple of years, I can't think the whole situation was too bad. It kept you both alive, out of the gangs and drugs, and out of prison."

We really didn't have any secrets from her. I let out a small laugh and shook my head.

"It sounds like you've answered your own question," I said.

My grandmother nodded. "And I guess you just answered it too. I should have known better than to expect a direct yes or no. But I do want a direct answer on my other question."

What else could she possibly want to know? "Okay. I'll give you one."

"How far did you come back?"

I felt a rush of ice run through my veins. How could she possibly know?

"What are you talking about?" I asked. I knew my expression wasn't neutral this time.

"You came back on Christmas Day. How old were you when you died?"

There was no way she could know. How would anyone know? Was I dreaming? Hallucinating?

"Carlos, look at me," she said. "It's okay. You can tell me."

"Twenty years," I whispered. "I was thirty-eight."

"Were you murdered?" I nodded.

"I was too," she said. My eyes widened at that news.

"You came back too?" I asked. "How did you know?"

"I saw that look in your eyes when you came downstairs that morning," she said, rubbing my back. "I recognized that look. It was the same one I saw in the mirror the day I came back. I wasn't completely sure at first, but I noticed how much more mature you suddenly seemed. You spoke differently, even carried yourself differently. You were organized and neat. You weren't so angry. You were more confident. All the things that come with age and experience."

I didn't realize I was holding my breath until I let it out. "Why didn't you say anything before now?"

"You had enough to think about," she said. "You had to figure things out for yourself. Even though I came back, my life experience is much different than yours. I couldn't give you the answer for how to handle it all."

"What happened to you?" I asked. "Who killed you?"

"My husband."

My eyes widened. "Grandpa killed you?"

"No, no. Not him. I was married to someone else that time," she said. I saw tears well up in her eyes. "I'll tell you about it all another time. It's too much to explain tonight. I just wanted you to know you aren't alone, especially since you won't have Julio around. Does he know?"

I shook my head. "No, I haven't told anyone. I figured no one would believe me."

Grandma nodded. "I understand that. I've only ever told your grandfather and now you. You should tell whoever it is you end up spending your life with. They need to know."

I nodded. "Did you change much?"

"I changed almost everything."

I got ready for bed with my head spinning. It seemed incredible that both my grandmother and I had the chance to redo our lives after being murdered. How many other people were walking around in the world carrying this secret and changing the lives of those around them? I tossed and turned most of the night thinking about my grandmother's revelations. I didn't think she could have shocked me more than revealing that she knew about my relationship with Julio. I should have known better than to underestimate Isabela Carranza.

As expected, we didn't get on the road until six-thirty. My father grumbled under his breath about the delay, but only when my mother wasn't around to hear. My grandmother hugged me tightly before I climbed in the backseat of my parents' minivan.

"You can call me anytime," she whispered. "I know how hard it can be. And I'll tell you more of my story."

I spent the first few hours on the road dozing and answering the thousand questions my mother felt the need to ask as if I hadn't talked to her weekly for the last four years. I suspected it was a combination of guilt that we had hardly seen each other since I was fourteen, relief that I was finally able to come back home, and anxiety that I might get sucked back into the gangs. I, on the other hand, felt more relaxed than I had since coming back. I knew my path for the next ten years, and it wasn't one that I needed to think about too much. I would take fewer classes at Rutgers, work more, save and invest as much as I could, but follow the steps I'd taken the last time to get into the Army. I would get my juvenile record expunged, get into better physical condition, and mentally prepare myself for the intensity of basic training, AIT, and then RIP, which was what would qualify me as a Ranger. I would attend Ranger school a little later on, which would help me get promoted. I would be in the 1st Battalion based out of Savannah for the first two-and-a-half years, then I would train to become part of the Regimental Reconnaissance Company, where I would remain the rest of my time in the Army. I would spend eight years total in the Army. I didn't expect to change too much outside of some missions that I wanted to turn out differently.

Except for Julie. That would be the one hard choice to make. Would I sleep with Rachel and conceive Julie again? I wouldn't meet Rachel until November 2007, so I had over three years to decide.

I put Rachel and Julie out of my mind for the time being and thought about Stephanie. She would be graduating high school in a couple of weeks and would head to school at Douglass College in the fall. Douglass would be merged into Rutgers-New Brunswick at the start of her senior year, but Stephanie would always consider herself a Douglass graduate. I bit back a smile knowing that next year she would run Morelli down with her father's car, breaking his leg in three places. I briefly wondered if I could slip down to Trenton and catch a glimpse of her. I had only seen one picture of her at that age. It would be fascinating to see her in real-life.

"When are you going to start work?" my father asked once my mother's questions had stopped. "I have some big projects coming up and need the help."

"I'm ready whenever you need me," I replied.

"You'll start on Wednesday, if we make it home by then," he said, giving my mother a sideways glance.

"Very funny, Javier," my mother said. She turned around in her seat to face me. "You have grown up so much this year, Carlos. Last year you would have been grumbling and rolling your eyes at the idea of working for your father."

I shrugged. "Gotta grow up sometime."

"Well, tell your brother that," my father said. "He's older than you and still acting like he's in high school."

Emilio was twenty-four and worked at a Portuguese restaurant in Elizabeth. He would one day own an Italian restaurant with his wife Lucy in Newark. I knew he would grow up more once he met Lucy in a couple of years, mainly because she held him to a higher standard than any of the other women he had dated.

We pulled up to my parents' house at three in the morning. We had managed not to kill each other in the last twenty-one hours, but there had been some close calls. I had driven the last four hundred miles to stop the debate between my parents whether to stop for the night or keep going. I pulled the minivan into the garage behind the house, and we poured out of it, grabbing only what was absolutely necessary. We would unload after some much needed sleep.

I quietly climbed the stairs as to not wake Grandma Rosa who was sleeping on the couch downstairs. She hadn't been able to come to graduation because she had been recovering from knee surgery. I wanted to sleep, and she wouldn't let me go for at least an hour once she saw me. When I was a kid and all of us were still at home, my brother Emilio and I had shared a bedroom. Once the oldest kids started moving out, I was able to get my own bedroom. That only lasted about a year before I went to juvie, then to Miami. My room was still there for the rare occasions I'd been allowed to come up to Newark on school holidays, but it was mostly bare. I stripped down to my boxers and crawled under the covers. I was finally back in New Jersey. It was just the first step in my twelve-year journey back to Stephanie Plum. I knew there was more to come, but I was able to go to sleep thinking about her.

The first step on my journey to join the Army was to get my juvenile record expunged. I hadn't realized it could prevent me from joining in my previous life, so the process hadn't been started until the end of my sophomore year. This time I knew I needed to get it done and worked on it early. I had to file the paperwork and then go before the judge to explain why I believed I should get this opportunity. I told him my plans to try out college, but that I ultimately thought I wanted to join the Army. The prosecutor's office hadn't objected to the expungement, citing my spotless legal record in Miami and that I'd done well in school. The judged granted the order, wished me luck, and told me he hoped to never see me in court again.

I took the fewest classes I could while being registered as a full-time student. They were all the bullshit core curriculum classes that were a waste of my time, so I wasn't too bothered. I wanted to be able to work more. I wanted to be in a better place financially when I joined the Army. I lived on post the entire time I'd been in the Army mainly because it didn't make sense to have a place off-post given my hectic schedule. Rangers were deployed for shorter periods but more often than regular Army and at times we had very little notice for deployment. Ranger battalions were supposed to be capable of deployment within eighteen hours of notice, though receiving anything shorter than a couple of days was rare. Living in the barracks hadn't been awful, though I may not feel as positive about it this time around. I had gotten used to the comforts of a private apartment with a housekeeper. Living with family hadn't been that much different, so going to the barracks again after over a decade away might not sit as well as it had the first time around.

Mariana and Paolo got married two weeks after graduation. They had refused to have a wedding and got married at the courthouse on a random Tuesday. Paolo moved in with Mariana and Grandma and they prepared for Olivia's arrival in September. He sat aside his plan to attend the University of Miami to work full-time instead. He told Mariana he hadn't really known what he wanted to do anyway, so it didn't make sense to waste the time and money. He got a job working at a factory that produced pre-packaged snack foods for distribution. He hoped it would only be a for a few years, but I knew he would work his way up in the company and eventually become a supervisor. Mariana gave birth via C-Section on September 14th. My mother flew down to Florida to be there when the baby was born. She and Mariana had more of a mother-daughter relationship than sisters, so this baby felt more like a grandchild than a niece. She came back from Florida two weeks later armed with more pictures of baby Olivia's first week of life than my first six years.

Julio and I talked at least once a week. He was adjusting to living with his mother and three sisters again and I wasn't sure he was going to make it. He had gone from practically living alone to now having four women in his space at all times. He was overwhelmed and it had led to more than one argument. He was eager to see me and made several suggestions of ways to get together. But those plans hadn't been needed when two of his three sisters were told their high school band was playing in the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. Normally Julio would have said he was staying home and enjoying the peace, but since Newark was practically in New York, he was excited to go. He would stay with us so we could spend time together, but he would be close enough to spend the holiday with his family.

The urge to go see Stephanie became more difficult to ignore the longer I was in New Jersey. She wasn't far away. I could get to her by car or train in less than forty-five minutes. I knew which dormitory she lived in her freshman year because she had pointed it out to me one day when we had gone to the Rutgers campus to look for one of her skips. But what would it do to the future if I met her now? I didn't know nineteen-year-old Stephanie Plum. She hadn't married and divorced in less than a year, been laid off from her job and had her life fall apart. She hadn't faced psychopaths and near-death experiences. I didn't know what to expect.

My willpower failed me the weekend after her birthday. I woke up on Saturday morning and told myself I would just try to see her, but not talk to her. Maybe I'd get close enough to hear her talk to someone or laugh, but I wouldn't interact with her.

I definitely wouldn't talk to her.