CHAPTER FOUR

The low-hanging sun cast golden rays over the rows of palm trees lining the street. Their shadows stretched long across the pavement, creating alternating stripes of gold and shadow on the concrete in front of Oliver's two-story house.

Lilly shuffled up the driveway. Her shadow stretched up the steps and climbed with her to the front porch, where it spread wider over the door to meet her approach. Amber rays glazed the windows with a glossy sheen. Next to the door, a white wooden sign with painted roses read in cursive letters: Home Sweat Home – a relic from Oliver's grandmother. According to him, she had brought it back from China along with her favorite souvenir: an embroidered pillow that proudly declared I Rove Americs. In the four years since he'd inherited the house, he hadn't changed a thing about the decor. The hint of a smile faded into a wry grimace. Oh well, laziness was a bitch.

She knocked and waited.

Behind her, the whir of a car engine broke the silence, and then faded away.

The door remained closed. He was probably still busy stacking buns at In-N-Out Burger. Lilly sighed, pulled out her phone from her bag, and clicked a photo of the front door. She attached it to a message: Home SWEAT Home. What time are you done flipping burgers?

Her phone vibrated a moment later: Two hours, and I'm a free man. Everything okay?

There was no way to explain this over WhatsApp. It was too much. Too weird. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before she typed: I was just nearby.

Another vibration: I'll flip those burgers extra fast for my favorite girl. A SpongeBob meme popped up, showing him sprinting with a spatula and the caption: I'm ready!

A smile curved Lilly's lips and lingered this time. She plopped down on the front porch steps, her backpack strap sliding off her shoulder. The past few nights, she had tossed and turned for hours. At first, she'd blamed college stress for keeping her up. But when she woke up in the middle of the night – her sweat-dampened pajama top plastered to her skin, her heart pounding, and Hannah's desperate cries still echoing in her ears – she knew.

It was the diary.

She'd dug it out of the back of her wardrobe, sunk her fingers into the smooth, soft plastic, and her face had warmed up with the return of her pounding heartbeat. She couldn't keep ignoring what had happened. She needed answers. That afternoon, after class, she'd driven to the man's house at Zuma Beach, but no one had answered the door.

She had been sitting in her car for a while, her thoughts droning like the afternoon traffic behind the windshield. Who else could she turn to? Her parents would think she'd lost her mind. Her only college friend might never look at her the same again. Oliver, though? He lived not far from Zuma Beach, and he already thought she was a few fries short of a Happy Meal. If the worst happened, if he decided she'd finally gone off the deep end, she could laugh it off as a joke.

Lilly pulled out her notebook, titled Victimology: Victims of Crime from her bag, rustled it open to the next chapter, and heaved a sigh.

The vibrating hum of a hummingbird merged with the rustle of turning pages. Lilly's eyelids drooped and her head dipped forward.

No. Not now. She jerked upright, blinked hard, and rubbed her face. She couldn't afford to waste a single second, not with practical exams in full swing and the final written exams coming up.

A sudden jolt snapped her to awareness. A weight pressed down on her shoulder. She flinched away.

"Relax. It's me." A frown shadowed hazel eyes.

"Oliver… " Her voice came out raspy.

"You're impossible to wake up. I was this close" –he pulled his hand back from her shoulder and held his thumb and forefinger close together– "to calling an ambulance."

When had she fallen asleep? Lilly squeezed her eyes, pinched the bridge of her nose, and stifled a yawn. "Sorry. I guess I've been running on empty for too long."

Oliver plunked down next to her, the sour, greasy smell of burnt frying oil lingering around him. "So, what's the deal?"

Lilly pressed a hand to her bag, the corner of the diary poking into her palm. "Well…" She hesitated. She could tell Oliver anything, right? He was the only one who knew the truth about her. When she'd feared his reaction, he'd just listened, then held her and reassured her it didn't change the way he saw her. But this? This was different. Less personal, far less dark, but infinitely harder to believe.

His warm eyes continued to search hers for an answer.

"Nothing. It's nothing." Lilly pushed the bag closer to her stomach and curled her hand tighter around its edge. God, what a coward she was.

"You didn't just show up at my place 'cause you like the sleep-inducing fluffiness of my front porch, did you?" Oliver rapped his knuckles against the weathered wooden planks beneath them.

"Maybe I did."

"C'mon, you can tell me." His gaze stayed locked onto hers with unblinking focus.

A crimson convertible roared down the street, and its glossy paint caught the fiery glow of the setting sun.

Lilly exhaled an unsteady breath. She had to tell someone, and if not Oliver, then who? "Okay." She straightened and loosened her grip on her bag. "But fair warning, this is some seriously crazy stuff."

"You know how much I love crazy." A grin tilted one side of his lips up.

Sure, skating down long sets of stairs while doing a three-hundred-sixty flip. But magic diaries? Probably too far-fetched. Lilly hesitated, then pulled the diary out of her bag and placed it on her lap. "Do you remember the desk with the free stuff at the beach?"

"The one with all the Hannah stuff?"

"Yeah. I found a diary there. " Lilly paused. "A magical one."

Oliver's lips curved into another crooked grin. "Right."

"No, really." Lilly dropped her gaze to the floor and scowled at the empty beer can lying on the bottom step. He could probably tell she was serious, he always knew, but she kept her gaze down, avoiding the skeptical twist she knew would be on his mouth.

She took a deep breath and told him everything – how she'd found herself back at the Hannah concert, how real it had felt. When she explained how the second diary entry had sent her to a party and she'd met the Jake Ryan, Oliver cut in.

"You're serious." His tone was matter-of-fact – it wasn't a question.

Lilly covered the diary with both hands. "I am."

"Did you swipe some of my stash? Is that why you're here? 'Cause you want more?"

"You know I'd never touch that stuff!" Of course, he didn't believe her. Why would he? Still, cutting her off like that… He hadn't even let her finish.

The skeptical twist of his mouth lingered for another second before giving way to another crooked grin. "You're just messing with me, right?" A spark lit his eyes.

Lilly tightened her jaw. What now? Should she agree, just to stop him from looking at her like that, even if it meant lying to him? But they'd sworn to always be honest with each other.

A muffled ringing broke the sudden stillness that had settled over them. A phone vibrated in the backpack at Oliver's feet. His gaze flicked down, and a scowl pushed his eyebrows together as he shoved the bag aside with his foot.

The timing couldn't have been more perfect. "Aren't you gonna answer it?"

The ringing continued.

Oliver groaned and fished out his phone. Lilly caught a glimpse of the screen – Mom – before he tossed it back into his bag and zipped it shut with a jerk.

Of course, he wouldn't. He'd cut ties with his parents two years ago after they'd kept pushing him to quit partying and using drugs. But was this really the best way to handle it? "You should pick up."

Oliver wrinkled his nose at Lilly but stayed silent.

The ringing stopped.

He cleared his throat, then nodded at Lilly's lap. "Is that the diary?"

And now he was the one deflecting from his situation. The cover sparkled reddish-pink between Lilly's fingers in the burnt-orange sunlight. She licked her lips and her fingers curled tighter around the edge of the book. "Yeah."

"Are you sure no one slipped ketamine into your drink?"

"That was my first thought too, but no. And I promise I'm not crazy."

Oliver's brows knit together, and his gaze drifted into the distance.

The hum of a car past them, its shadow streaking across the overgrown meadow.

He blinked back into focus and tilted his chin toward the diary in her lap. "Can I see it?"

Really? Was he seriously entertaining the possibility of magic? "You mean read in it?"

Oliver dipped his chin in a quick nod.

Should she really? Would it be a good idea if she dragged him into whatever this was? "This could be dangerous. I still have no clue what these time travels are actually for. You can take a look, but please, don't read it. I don't want you waking up in the past."

"Okay." His voice came out flat, and he extended his hand, palm up.

"You promise you won't read it?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

"Ollie?" Her voice sharpened.

Oliver scratched his neck. "I promise, okay?" His jaw muscles jumped under his skin. "Seriously, just let me take a look."

Lilly hesitated, then held it out to him, but her grip loosened only when he pulled on it. But really, why was she so freaking reluctant to give it to him, even for a moment? She could trust him.

Oliver rubbed his chin, his gaze flicking up to meet hers for a second before dropping back to the diary. "You said you already read the first three entries?"

"Yeah."

Oliver flipped through the pages until he reached the first one with writing. He shot Lilly another quick glance from the corner of his eye, bit his lip, and flicked his gaze back to the page. "Twenty-second of June, Two Thousand Nine. Lately, I just HATE publicity. The flashing cameras made my eyes burn, and the bass from the speakers pounded in my skull like a dang jackhammer."

No. What was he doing? "Ollie, stop." She lunged for the diary, but Oliver twisted away and hunched over it on his lap.

"I had to smile for hours until my cheeks hurt. Until I wanted to scream. Until I wanted to push past all of them and just run."

Please, stop. Hot sickness boiled up from the pit of Lilly's stomach, turning the words on her tongue into a long, stretched groan. She reached for the diary again, but he angled his body farther away.

"Disney Records doesn't care. It's their fault for making me go. I had no choice. It's not my fault. They should've known what would happen. I know I promised I wouldn't do it again. I swore to Daddy. I swore to JACKSON. But I broke my promise, and I'm so, so sorry. But I couldn't get through tonight without it. I truly couldn't. So I hid in the bathroom and did what I had to do. I know it was wrong. I know I can't hide. God is always watching. Later that night, Daddy looked at me with that unreadable stare. I think he knows."

A choked gasp escaped Lilly's lips. Her eyes rolled back, and she tipped backward. Her shoulders scraped against the porch railing, and her head struck hard planks…

Blurry lights flashed before her open eyes. Emerald. Magenta. Then Violet. Gravity shoved her back against a padded seat and pulled her head against the headrest. A mechanical clack-clack-clack rattled through her body and drowned out her weak moans. A deep blue veil settled over her eyes. Where was she? Where had the diary taken her this time?

She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. Colorful lights flickered at the edges of her vision, casting a ghostly glow across the deep blueness.

Not a veil. The night sky.

She clenched her teeth and forced her head upright.

The backs of two linked wagons gleamed with glossy paint as they climbed a yellow metal track. A chain running through the center of the track guided her ascent with sharp, metallic clanks.

A roller coaster.

Her heart slammed to a stop before crashing hard against her ribcage. Oh God. Oh God. She was on a roller coaster. Lilly clutched the metal lap bar pressing against her stomach and sucked in a sharp breath. This couldn't be real. It just couldn't be.

The front wagon disappeared over the peak.

No, no, no. There had to be a way out. There had to be something she could–

Her wagon tipped over the edge, and gravity ripped her down into the depths. Lights blurred past her. Her stomach twisted, and a scream burst from her lips.

Food stands and game booths flashed below, clustered close together on a wooden pier before rushing out of her vision again. The track guided the wagon straight ahead and the dark ocean flickered into her view. The horizon tilted as the wagon angled into a sharp curve. She slammed sideways into her seat. It propelled her over a hill of yellow steel and catapulted her into a spiraling drop. Her heart beat double time. Then triple-time. She couldn't take this. How much longer?

Salty sea air whipped against her face and swept long honey-blonde hair over the seat in front of her. The cornrows of the passenger next to the blonde girl bounced in the wind.

Lilly squeezed her eyes shut and ground her teeth together until they hurt.

The wagon tilted again – hard to the right, then jerked to the left – before it slowed into a smooth glide. Metal screeched beneath her, and darkness slid over her eyelids. Occasional laughter and chatter replaced the high-pitched screams. It was over.

Lilly's chest rose and fell with uneven gasps. She cracked her eyes open. A wooden saddleback roof stretched over the loading platform. A stocky Black woman stumbled out of the front wagon. She steadied herself and tugged her blazer down over her round belly. A colorful beaded necklace gleamed under the overhead lights in the unbuttoned V-neck of her blouse. Two feathers hung at the end. And those ivory-colored sticks with bulbous ends – bones? A faint sheen of red clung to their surface.

Lilly squeezed her eyes shut with a grimace, but when she opened them again, the woman tucked the necklace back into her blouse and adjusted her collar.

"Please step out of the vehicle." The monotonous voice drifted over Lilly's head.

Was that meant for her? Lilly pried her fingers off the lap bar and pushed herself upright. Her right foot found shaky ground on the platform, but her left foot wobbled and gave way. Her knee drove hard into the wooden planks.

A shadow fell over her. A hand with short, bitten nails appeared in her vision, fingers splayed as if inviting her to take it.

Lilly's head snapped up. Cobalt-blue glassy eyes met hers.

Her breath caught for just a second. Hannah. Again.

She wanted to help her up, didn't she? Lilly slid her jittery hand into Hannah's warm palm. Hannah dragged her up, her lips pressed into a tight line. Lilly stood before her, half a head shorter, her gaze lifting to meet Hannah's.

Hannah's dull eyes flicked between Lilly's, searching for something before her forehead creased. "Do we… know each other?" The words left her lips with hesitation, and a frown furrowed neatly shaped brows.

Hannah remembered her? But they'd only spoken briefly at the party. Lilly locked her arms at her sides to stop the trembling. Dizziness swept over her, making her vision swim and causing her to sway backward.

Hannah shot out a hand and wrapped it around Lilly's upper arm. The grip steadied her for a moment, then Hannah pulled back.

A thanks sat on Lilly's tongue but left her lips as only a wordless breath. She swallowed and forced herself to speak. "Probably from the birthday party."

"I go to a lot of those."

Of course, she would. The party had been in April. It was now late June. "The one two months ago."

"Which one?"

Seriously, how many parties did Hannah go to? Lilly let her eyes glaze over, her mind drifting back to fragments of memory: the Italian-style villa, rock music blaring from speakers, and a soft pink banner with golden letters that read… "Mitchie's birthday party."

Hannah's eyes popped wide, and her face turned a corpse-like gray. Her mouth opened, then closed, then opened again. "W-what?" The question croaked out of her throat.

So something did happen at the Party. Arms still at her side, Lilly clutched the loose fabric of her pants. "That's where we met."

Hannah remained still for a long moment. With a sudden, sharp turn, she staggered toward the stairs and descended down onto the pier below.

But what could have happened at the party that turned Hannah into a walking corpse just at the mention of it? And how? Lilly splayed a hand over her chest. She'd seemed fine the entire night. Pretty drunk, but not in a bad mood. Bizarre.

The Black women trailed behind Hannah, and Lilly followed. Her knees buckled with each step, but she stabilized herself on the wooden railing.

Lights flashed among the crowd of people waiting below. The paparazzi again. Just as Hannah had written about in her diary. So the diary entries were leading her straight into the moments Hannah had described.

Hannah curled her shoulders forward, let her hair fall across her face, and pushed through the crowd chanting her name. They pressed closer, and a booming voice broke through the din: "Back off! Don't make my job harder than it already is!" The black woman shoved herself between the mob and Hannah, and a groan escaped her. "God, this damn roller coaster. Turned me into a suicidal, lemming for a few minutes. That wasn't in the résumé."

Lilly stopped at the end of the stairs and drew in the scents of crispy fries and tangy tomato ketchup.

The woman ushered Hannah through a narrow gap between a coral-pink snack stand and a turquoise-painted wooden game booth. Beyond them, the dark ocean stretched toward the horizon, a strip of almost-black blue under the inky night sky.

The smells, the colorful paneled booths, the ocean breeze – it was unmistakable. Pacific Park. She'd been here so many times with Oliver after moving into her college dorm in Long Beach.

Oliver…

He'd broken his promise. He'd read the diary out loud despite her begging him not to. Lilly grounded her teeth, then forced herself to relax. No, it was okay. He probably just wanted to show her that something was wrong with her, to prove that she was imagining things. But that worked out just great, didn't it?

"Nobody's going through that door before Miss Montana's outta there, got it?" The bodyguard's voice boomed from somewhere behind the booths and cut through the Hannah cheers.

At least she wasn't alone this time. Oliver had to be here somewhere. She'd given him a heads-up, so hopefully, he wasn't as freaked out as she had been during her first-time travel.

Lilly pushed through the crowd wedged into the narrow gap behind the two stalls and turned the corner. The throng formed a semicircle around a small, light blue wooden hut. A neon sign blazed the word Restroom across the front, with a glowing blue dolphin arched above it.

"Guys, I can do karate!" The bodyguard again.

Lilly moved past the crowd, stood on her tiptoes, and scanned the pier for a glimpse of raven-black hair.

A little boy darted past her, dragging his father toward the Ferris wheel. A little girl in front of an ice cream stand took a long lick of her bright green scoop, only to watch it slide off the purple scoop beneath and splatter onto the ground.

Her shrill wail echoed behind Lilly as she passed the game booth where stuffed zombies dangled from the ceiling, wedged between round piglets with corkscrew tails and rainbow-colored teddy bears.

A group of three boys high-fived each other next to the railing behind the stands. The way one boy stuffed his hands into the oversized pockets of his baggy jeans, his back a bit too hunched for his age and his feet angled outward in huge skater sneakers – Lilly nibbled on her lip – kind of familiar.

The mirror wall at the back of the booth reflected the pyramidal stacks of cans. A flash of sandy-colored, chest-length hair.

Chest-length? Lilly stopped dead in her tracks and swung toward the mirrors.

Thin turquoise braids peeked out between long strands.

How– She leaned further over the counter and squinted. The reflection mirrored her frown.

No way. She hadn't worn her hair like this in years. She'd stripped the color out with dye remover after turning seventeen and chopped it to shoulder length at eighteen.

"Wanna give it a try?" The voice jolted her. The man in the blue Pacific Park T-shirt behind the counter juggled a small leather ball in one hand.

Lilly shook her head, and the teenage girl in the mirror mimicked her movements. The azure eyes staring back at her blinked before widening. They sparkled with a youthful innocence she hadn't seen in years.

She had traveled back in time. So, it made sense, right? It should've been obvious when she noticed she was wearing clothes she hadn't seen in years. Still. This was insane. Just plain mind-blowing.

Lilly stepped away from the booth. If she looked younger, didn't that also mean– Her gaze whipped toward the group of boys.

That one boy kept his hands jammed deep into the oversized pockets of his baggy pants and flicked his chocolate-brown bangs out of his face. A crooked grin spread across his lips in response to something one of the others said.

Oliver. That was really Oliver.

And not only did he look perfectly fine, but he also seemed to be having fun. Lilly curled her fingers into her palms. He knew she was here. He knew how terrifying this was for her. And he wasn't even looking for her.

Lilly stopped behind him under one of the old-fashioned, ornate lamp posts that lined the railing and a triangle of warm, dim light spread out over her. She crossed her arms over her chest. "Do you believe me now?"

Oliver whirled around. A gust of wind carried the fishy scent of seaweed and blew Lilly's hair back while lifting Oliver's chocolate brown bangs from his smooth forehead. All his worry lines were gone, and the pale skin beneath his eyes was bright – no dark circles in sight.

"Woah, Lilly." He stepped back, his eyebrows shooting up, and then a crooked grin twisted one corner of his mouth up. "How did you manage to sneak out from your mom's iron grip?"

The other two boys Lilly recognized as their former high school friends raised their hands in greeting, but Lilly just blinked at them and turned her gaze back to Oliver. "My mom's iron grip?"

"Wait." Oliver leaned back against the railing and rested his forearms on it, the bite mark of the half-eaten doughnut in his hand glowing bright green. "She actually gave you the green light?"

She hadn't told her mother about the diary. And even if she had, why would Oliver think she needed permission to use it? Unless he was–

Lilly chewed on her lower lip, and a frown creased her brow. "My mom didn't let me come to Santa Monica, did she?"

He made a grimace that screamed, Are you kidding me? Duh.

Back then, she'd begged her parents to let her go to Pacific Park – just for Hannah's performance. But the moment her mom heard Santa Monica and at night, she'd shut her down: No, Lillian. Absolutely not! She could still hear her mother's sharp voice and feel the sting of frustration in her chest.

That could only mean one thing. Lilly swallowed hard. "Just to make sure – you don't remember a diary?"

"Huh?" Oliver sank his teeth into the jelly doughnut, and bright green jam dripped down his chin.

So, no. Lilly pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and cupped a hand over her mouth. She was, once again, trapped alone in the past.

"Seriously, how did you get here?"

She couldn't tell him the truth. When his older version hadn't believed her, how could she expect his younger self to? "I strapped turbines under my skateboard and flew down the highway." She tried to sound quirky, but her voice came out flat.

"That's my Lilly." He gave her a light jab on the arm, his bangs falling over his eyes, which he flicked back with a quick jerk of his head. "Wanna try?" He shoved his half-eaten jelly doughnut in front of Lilly's face, where bright green letters crinkled across purple sugar frosting: Zombie High. "Check out that dope slime." He squeezed the doughnut, and bright green marmalade oozed from the bite mark.

Lilly closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head.

"They're going all out for the Zombie High Season Two premiere. They've zombified everything. Even the food."

Why hadn't the diary affected Oliver in the present? He was probably wondering how she had just vanished into thin air. He might have even called the police.

Oliver took another bite of his doughnut. "Hannah gave a mini concert earlier." He seemed to mistake her pensive silence for disappointment because he added, mumbling through a mouthful of doughnut: "You didn't miss much, though. She didn't even wear her Zombie Princess costume. Kinda lame."

And if she was really unlucky, the FBI was already searching his house, sifting through his mountains of unwashed laundry and, of course, confiscating the diary. Lilly curled her fingers around the cold upper bar of the railing. That was okay, right? Just a few days ago, she'd wanted to get rid of it anyway. And yet…

Dark waves crashed against the wooden pilings below and burst into white spray.

"I get that Hannah's a famous pop star and all, but seriously, I kinda wish Jake would do the intro. A dude's voice would give it way more punch, y'know?" Oliver licked purple icing from his fingers, then pressed a hand to his heart. "With a heart of steel and a blade so sharp, he fights the night, lighting up the dark." His pitch faltered. "Beside him stands a girl once lost, a zombie turned good, no matter the cost." The other two boys stopped their conversation and joined in. "The queen of the zombies, with a twisted grin, wants the slayer's heart, tries to draw him in, promises of power, whispers of might, but he holds his ground, ready for the fight."

A short chuckle broke free from Lilly's chest, which melted into a long, deep sigh. What was the point of all this? The diary definitely hadn't sent her back here just to relive her high school years. Her gaze drifted to the endless blackness behind the railing, then up, where the colorful lights lit up the sky with a ghostly glow and dipped to the glowing tip of the Freefall Tower. Somewhere near its base, a crowd had gathered, and more people flocked to join them. They certainly weren't joining because they enjoyed long waits.

Lilly scraped her nails across the dents in the railing. Hannah had to be the key to all of this, the answer to a question she didn't even know how to ask yet. She turned to Oliver. "I'm gonna check out Hannah, okay?"

"Sure." Oliver shrugged.

She made her way over to the crowd, stood on tip-toes, and craned her neck over their heads. A honey-blonde head and a high, pinned-up cornrow ponytail peeked out behind them.

A small girl elbowed her way out of the crowd, her mouth forming an O and her wide eyes sparkling as she stared at the thick black marker scrawled across her bare forearm: xoxo Hannah.

It was an autograph session.

Lilly shuffled forward, inch by inch, moving with the group ahead of her.

The Ferris wheel loomed over the entire pier and flashed colorful lights along the spinning spokes in a sequence from emerald to magenta to violet.

Sharp beep-beep-beeps rang out from the game booth next to her, interrupted by the dull thuds of rubber hitting rubber. Probably Whack-a-Mole.

A husky chuckle rose above the murmur of the crowd, and Lilly peered through the gaps in the bodies. From her seated position on one of the lined-up wooden picnic tables, Hannah leaned toward a little boy and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. "You're so adorable." She flicked the tip of her marker over his forehead.

The boy turned to the crowd. Large, curved letters spelling Hannah stretched across his forehead, and Red spots flared on his cheeks while he fumbled with the hem of his shirt.

Hannah tilted her head back, let her eyes flutter shut, and swayed to the electronic beat of the techno music blaring from the speakers next to the Freefall Tower. "Gosh, that sounds real amazin'."

Lilly gnawed at her lower lip. First the chuckle, then the kiss, and now this trance-like swaying? How was that possible? Just moments ago, she had been in shock.

Hannah's eye flickered open, and she lowered her chin, locking eyes with Lilly. A toothy smile spread across her glossy lips, the tip of a cyan-blue gum poking between her teeth. She motioned with her finger: Come here.

Did she mean her? Lilly glanced over her shoulder, but only two young girls, no taller than her waist, returned her gaze. She pointed at herself, and Hannah nodded.

Why though? Hannah had practically fled from her earlier. Lilly pushed her way through the crowd.

The bodyguard stood still beside Hannah, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. Only the subtle tilt of her head toward Lilly hinted at her acknowledgment.

Hannah sent her another wide smile that crinkled her nose. Lilly's pulse spiked, and she tore her gaze to her feet, where the rosy liquid of a crushed milkshake cup spread across the planks. Ridiculous. God, it had been six years. She was an adult now. She should be so over her infatuation.

"Leg or arm?"

"I don't know." Lilly held out her forearm.

Hannah reached for her chin and warm fingers pressed into her cheek. The smooth surface of her fingerless glove brushed against the side of Lilly's jaw and a hint of the earthiness of worn leather caught her nose. The damp tip of the marker tickled her skin.

"Done." Hannah capped the marker with a click. "Sorry for walkin' away earlier."

"It's okay."

The same searching look from before returned to Hannah's eyes. "You seem real familiar. Are you sure we haven't run into each other more than once?"

Not during the time travels. So much was clear. And back when she'd been a fan, she'd only met Hannah once, at a Zombie High autograph session in the Golden Grand Cinema. If this was truly the past, could Hannah remember her? But hadn't that autograph session happened after Hannah's visit to Pacific Park? "Maybe at an autograph session?"

Hannah let out a husky giggle. "Yes, that's probably it." She sprung up and landed just inches in front of Lilly. Her round eyes filled Lilly's vision, and the tips of her boots pressed down on her toes. The sticky smack of Hannah's chewing gum filled her ears, and warm breath brushed across her face, carrying the sharp aroma of peppermint.

Lilly pressed her lips together and took a step back, dragging her shoes out from under Hannah's soles.

"Sorry." Hannah leaned back and steadied herself with her hands on the table.

Was Hannah drunk again? But how? Just a moment ago, she'd seemed completely normal–

Wait.

Oliver had read from the diary that she couldn't get through the night without it, that she had hidden in the bathroom and done what she had to do.

Had she downed some alcohol in there to calm herself? But there wasn't even a hint of sharpness on her breath. Only the clean scent of mint. There was no peppermint gum strong enough to mask the smell of alcohol.

Hannah grinned, teeth grinding down on the cyan wad of gum. "I feel like goin' on a ride." Her gaze climbed the three-hundred-foot steel tower of the Freefall ride, stretching into the darkness. Legs dangled from the circular platform spinning at the top, blue lights flashing into the air. "You gotta try this with me."

Lilly's eyes followed the platform as it rattled downward, accompanied by a chorus of high-pitched screams.

No way. Her insides clenched with the stomach-dropping memory of earlier. God. Nothing would get her on that ride.

A leather-clad hand slipped into hers.

What–

Hannah pushed through the crowd, which parted before her, forcing Lilly to stumble after her. What was she doing? "Hannah, wait." The surrounding chatter and pulsating music muffled her voice. She couldn't. It was impossible. Completely impossible.

Hannah led her to the entrance of the Freefall Tower, where turquoise lights spelling Pacific Plunge pulsed on and off above the ticket booth. She leaned over to the window. "She's with me."

No. No, she wasn't. The words stuck in her chest.

The man at the ticket booth nodded toward the entrance.

Hot sweat dampened Lilly's back, and her grip on Hannah's hand grew slick. "Hannah–"

Another yank at her wrist and Hannah pulled Lilly up the narrow metallic stairs to the circular seating platform.

Hannah let go of her hand, plopped into one of the open seats, and pulled the padded safety bar over her shoulders. Her bodyguard slid into the seat next to her, her gaze unfocused. A faint grayish tint settled over her deep brown skin, and her lips pressed into a thin line.

Lilly's legs stayed glued to the ground.

Hannah blew a gum bubble, flashed her a smile, and patted the seat next to her.

Lilly drew a sharp breath through flaring nostrils. It was okay. Okay to admit it. Hannah wouldn't find out why she was scared. Right? "I'm afraid of heights. Actually more of the feeling of falling."

"Oh." Hannah popped the gum bubble in front of her mouth. "But you were with me on that roller coaster."

"Yeah, but–"

"–Oh, never mind. I'll just go with Roxy."

Her bodyguard winced at the sound of her name but pulled the safety bar down.

Lilly closed her eyes and exhaled a long breath through pursed lips. Thank God.

Behind the exit, Oliver waited, his wide eyes darting between Lilly and the ascending platform. "You know you're insane for the rides you always go on. I could never."

Yeah, no. Maybe she used to be a total adrenaline junkie. But that was a long time ago.

The platform spun, and Hannah's Doc Martens disappeared behind the steel tower.

"The park's closing in half an hour." Oliver slid his phone into his pocket. "My dad just called. He'll be here soon. Wanna come with us? He can drop you off at home."

Home…

Lilly's gaze fell to the floor. There was no home for her here. But waiting alone, until the park turned into a deserted graveyard, with only the waves slapping against the pilings to keep her company… She wrapped her arms around her stomach. Who knew when – or if – the diary would even return her to the present?

No, she would go with Oliver.

She fished a few crumpled dollar bills from her shorts and bought two Mint Chocolate Chip Milkshakes – one for her and one for Oliver. They strolled toward the parking lot in silence.

Someone brushed past her, honey-blonde hair whipping against a silver lamé jacket with every step. Hannah strode toward the parking lot, with Roxy marching close behind. She stopped at the far end of the lot – a wide stretch of wooden planks, lined with white-painted spaces, perched at the very edge of the pier.

Oliver headed to a silver SUV. A man behind the rolled-down window lifted a hand in a quick wave.

"He's here already. Ready to take a ride on the Oken Express?" Oliver closed his lips around the colorful patterned straw jutting out from the plastic lit of his milkshake. His cheeks hollowed with a loud slurp.

They would drive her to her childhood home from six years ago. Lilly chewed the pliable plastic of her straw into a dented line. Wouldn't her parents notice she had changed? She might look sixteen again, but they'd surely pick up on her behavior. God. What should she do? Should she really go with them?

An invisible force slammed the air from her lungs, freezing her mouth around the straw. What–?

She threw her weight forward, muscles straining, but her legs stayed rooted. She screamed at her mind to bite down, but her jaw stayed slack. Her heartbeat stuttered into erratic jolts. The same force from the birthday party? Was that it? The one that had kept her from opening the door?

Oliver glanced over his shoulder. "You coming?" His voice drifted toward her, then he turned away and continued to shuffle along the pier's handrail.

This – whatever this was – couldn't keep her trapped forever. Could it? Lilly jerked her right arm to the side. No movement. She fought to step forward with her left leg, but the air locked her into a tight hold. Right leg backward. The resistance broke. Her foot slammed into the ground behind her, sending her staggering. She barely caught herself.

What was that? She reached out. Her fingers met… something. It wasn't solid, but it wasn't air either. Her brows knitted and she pushed harder. It didn't give. Some kind of impenetrable energy?

A horn blared from the silver SUV across the parking lot. Oliver's head popped up from behind the roof on the passenger side and he rolled his eyes skyward. "Jesus Lilly! Was an hour of ogling Hannah not enough? Just go drool over your posters at home."

From somewhere behind the two-story restaurant at the edge of the parking lot, the approaching car's roar surged louder.

A second later, a white Range Rover screeched around the corner. It veered straight toward Hannah and accelerated with a building roar.

Oh God. It was going to hit her. It was going to hit her. Lilly's fingers dug into her milkshake cup, its paper crumpling under her grip.

Rubber squealed against wood. The car's rear skidded, its tires drawing a dark, semi-circular mark on the planks before it jerked to a stop, perpendicular to Hannah. The engine let out a low growl, then went silent.

White smoke billowed from the tires and faded into the air and the black-tinted driver's side window slid down. A man leaned out from behind the wheel and rested one muscular forearm against the edge of the open window. His crisp white shirt stretched over his bulging biceps as he pushed dark sunglasses up onto his platinum-blond buzzcut.

Roxy threw her hands into the air. Her agitated voice echoed across the parking lot, but the distance swallowed her words.

Hannah slipped into the backseat. After a quick shake of her head and another fling of her arms, Roxy followed and slammed the door shut.

The engine roared to life. Tires screeched against the planks, and the Range Rover shot forward, trailing a cloud of smoke behind it. It vanished behind the corner of the restaurant with a fading roar.

Who was that guy? And why was he driving like a jerk? Why would Hannah even–

A sickening tremor rippled through Lilly's gut and drove bile up her throat. The milkshake cup slipped from her grasp, and thick white liquid splashed across her sneakers.

She was about to return to the present. That–that was good… right? Lilly braced her arms on her knees and clutched the fabric of her pants. But the nausea… God, it was unbearable. The sour, acrid taste of bile coated her tongue with bitterness, and she clenched her teeth to keep from retching.

A car door slammed, and Oliver's tight voice carried across the deserted parking lot: "Lilly, what's wrong?"

The parking lot tilted to the side, sprang back, then lurched again. Her stomach flipped. Too late to answer. He'd find out when she returned.

For a split second, the lot turned perpendicular, with Oliver sticking vertically to the ground. Then everything pitched sideways, and her vision tunneled into darkness.