38. August 14th

38

August 14th

M y phone continues to ring next to me as I drive away, but I don't answer it.

When I am less than a mile away from Julia's house, I think of just throwing it out the window, not telling them where I went.

But that is stupid. Stupider than this irrational decision I made.

Why am I doing this again? Why did I not at least tell them where I am going?

I need to talk to Grayson.

I pick it up.

"Listen close, Sunday. You have made a decision that is not going to end well." Grayson's voice is cool, calm. "Where are you headed this time?"

What does he mean this time? I think about it for a moment. I want to lie, but I decide against it. Something is pushing at my psyche; some nagging feeling is urging me to trust him. To trust the O'Briens. Even if they have been lying to me. "Going to Julia's."

Grayson lets out a heavy hopeless sigh into the phone. "I should have known! I should have stopped you. Do you know what the definition of insanity is?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "Making the same decision over and over and fucking over again and expecting different results!" he shouts into my ear.

I'm close to her house, I can see the car from earlier. It's parked in the street. Lights are on inside. "I haven't done anything over and over again, what are you talking about?"

"You stupid, idiot girl. We try to keep you alive, but you keep dying! Ninety-nine deaths. I've watched you die ninety-nine times before this."

His words snap through the strings that have been tugging me incessantly towards Julia.

I slam on the brakes. "What are you talking about?"

"You're caught in an endless loop, Sunday, and no matter what we do, we can never get you past today. You always die either before today or on this date. On Tripp and Axel's birthday."

"That's not possible." But even as I say the words, it's as if everything finally clicks into place. Every creepy feeling, the unending déjà vu, inherently expecting the other shoe to drop.

The apprehension.

"How do you think we always knew where you were? How do you think we could just guess what you were going to do? You had already done it! Sometimes there was a bit of variation, we could alter it a bit. But no matter what, you will die today."

Ice is rushing through my veins to my head. My vision blurs. "But—"

"You made a wish on that shooting star. To be reunited with the ones you love."

Goosebumps form all across my skin, how could he possibly know that?

"Well, we did too; Darius, Axel, and I knew what Tripp and Auggie had gotten into, we suspected it wasn't an accident at all and we wished to keep you safe. For some reason we can remember every timeline, but you can't. It's maddening!"

A thought strikes, the day of the memorial when I was going to walk home. "The lightning?"

"You died the first time from that. OD'd at the party. Falling where the car accident was. Drowning in the river. Suffocated in a barrel. Stabbed underneath the restaurant at the marina. You have died in so many different ways. But there was one constant–if you made it to today? You would be murdered. Shot. "

My head is throbbing, I am parked in the middle of the street.

He has to be lying to me, trying to get me to come back, but then why does it feel so true? Why can some part of my subconscious feel like what he is saying actually happened to me? Like it's a memory that I can virtually touch but is just out of my reach. "Why didn't you just tell me?" The words are a weak whisper.

"You never listen. You don't care! Now please. Please, whatever you do, don't go into the house. Don't meet up with Julia. This isn't going to end well. Please come back to me. Before it's too late. Please, I'm begging you. I love you Sunday."

My mind is reeling that I don't quite process everything he has just said. I am still not certain I believe him, but when I look up, I realize it's too late.

"Come on out, Miss Sunday."