Free The Locket by Stacey Jay

he’d slept in if he was running late? At least I always took a shower and put on clean clothes in the morning.
    “You sound mad.”
    “Well, I’m not.” I forced a small smile. It wasn’t worth arguing about. Not today, not after the wonderful day we’d had and the miracle of the entire do over. “I’m just . . . tired.”
    “Okay.” Isaac looked confused that I’d given up so easily. But he didn’t get the double standard. He never would. Explanations and arguments would be futile. “Well . . . I love you.”
    “I love you too.” The hall was emptying fast.
    “We’re going to be late. See you after school?”
    “See you at Ramon’s,” I said, ducking into my class just as the tardy bell rang. Isaac wasn’t going to get to calculus in time, but it probably wouldn’t matter.
    Star basketball players didn’t seem to get tardy slips the same way as the rest of us did. In fact, I’d bet if I turned back to look, Isaac wouldn’t even be running down the hall. He’d still be working the Isaac shuffle, refusing to let anything but basketball motivate him into full-fledged activity.
    For a second I hesitated, tempted to sneak a peek down the hall, but then hurried to my seat. I didn’t really want to have my suspicions confirmed. Knowing the truth was one thing, having it slap you in the face was another.
     
    “You sure you’re okay?” Isaac asked, three hours later. He sat close on the bench outside Jukebox Java, clearly concerned, if a little grossed out.
    He’d never seen me puke before. I wasn’t the kind of person who did that sort of thing in front of her boyfriend. Isaac wasn’t invited over when I had the flu, and I never drank enough to make myself sick. I hated vomiting, really hated it, but I hadn’t been able to help myself. I’d seen the sign on the door of Jukebox Java as we were leaving Ramon’s and my stomach had simply rejected my pepperoni slice and medium Coke.
    The sign was completely different. JUKEBOX JAVA, COFFEE AND JIVE was spelled out in red letters instead of dark blue and yellow, and the logo was an espresso bean microphone instead of a coffee cup with a guitar on the side. Like the homecoming announcement, it wasn’t a big deal . . . but at the same time, it was. It really was.
    “I’m okay.” But I wasn’t. I was shaking and clammy beneath my sweater, hot, but with a cold sweat breaking out on my upper lip. And I was afraid, so afraid. The reality of traveling through time was starting to hit. Hard.
    I was probably going into shock—over my favorite coffee shop having a different sign out in front. It seemed ridiculous, but what if it wasn’t? What if these small differences meant something? What if this wasn’t my life after all? What if I’d been sucked through a wormhole or found a wrinkle in time or . . . something? There was so much I didn’t know about what had happened to me, about the locket.
    “I can be a few minutes late if you need me to sit with you a little longer.”
    A few minutes late. He couldn’t skip practice to tend to his sickly girlfriend. He could only be a “few minutes late.” But what did I expect? This was Isaac; basketball came first.
    Strangely, the thought helped calm me down. Some things might be different, but Isaac was still exactly the same. Safe. Predictable. Sweet and frustrating, perfect and flawed, all at the same time.
    “No, I don’t want you to be late. But could you do something for me really quick?” I turned and pulled up my hair, heart beating faster as I tugged the clasp of the locket out of my sweater. “Could you help me with my necklace? The clasp is stuck. I think maybe I’m not strong enough to pull it open.”
    “Sure.” His warm hands brushed against the nape of my neck. Maybe this would work. Maybe Isaac would force the clasp open and I could take the locket off and put it somewhere safe until Gran arrived in a few days. I knew I’d feel better if I could just get it off.
    “Is it