Free The Time Traveler's Boyfriend by Annabelle Costa Page A

Claudia. It was wired shut for two months . I couldn’t eat. I had to drink my meals through a freaking straw. It took almost a year before I could even eat without it hurting when I tried to chew. It still hurts sometimes when the weather is bad.” He shakes his head. “And you’re saying that didn’t happen until you went back and tried to fix things?
    I swallow. “Uh. I guess so.”
    Now he’s the one who looks like he’s going to throw up. “Jesus Christ,” he finally says.
    My sentiments exactly.
     
    ***
     
    For the rest of the day, I can tell Adam is trying to pretend like what happened doesn’t matter, like he doesn’t care that no matter what I do in that time machine, he’ll never walk again. But it’s clear he does care. We eat a quiet dinner in his house, which I cooked. It’s mac and cheese from a box, which is pretty much the only dish I can manage to not screw up. But I still manage to overcook the noodles, which are all soggy. It’s barely edible, which isn’t such a bad thing considering it’s obvious neither of us feels very hungry.
    “I hear all this great stuff about stem cells,” I say, trying to perk Adam up. “I mean, it’s not like there’s no hope. All this stem cell research …”
    “Not in my lifetime,” Adam mumbles, not lifting his eyes from his cheesy dinner. He makes circles in the pile of noodles with his fork.
    “You’re not that old,” I say, trying to tease him, but he doesn’t smile. Okay, new tactic: “Listen do you want me to try again? I mean, maybe I should tell you to just not even leave your house that day? You can’t get hit by a taxi if you don’t go outside, right?” I really don’t want to, but I’ll do it. For him. If he needs me to.
    Adam shakes his head emphatically. “No way. I spent months with my jaw wired shut, which apparently wouldn’t have even happened if you hadn’t tried to help me. If you go back again, I’ll probably end up blind and deaf or something. No thanks. A disfiguring scar is bad enough.”
    Admittedly, it doesn’t sound so great having a jaw wired shut, but I have to take exception to his use of the term “disfiguring scar.” The scar on Adam’s jaw is, in fact, incredibly sexy. He’s always been a bit of a dork and this scar gives him a new, somewhat rugged edge. I want to tell him that, but I have a feeling he’ll just think I’m patronizing him.
    “Well, look on the bright side,” I say in an overly chipper voice. “If you weren’t in a wheelchair, you’d have to re-modify your whole house. I don’t know if you realize how back-breaking it is to use your sink if you’re standing up. And you’re much taller than I am.”
    Adam lifts his eyes from his plate to stare at me. “Claudia, seriously. This isn’t helping.”
    I grit my teeth. “Well, what do you want me to say? Is the only way you can ever be happy is if you’re able to walk?”
    “No!” Adam says, dropping his fork onto his plate with an echoing clatter. “That’s not it at all. I’ve been in this wheelchair for sixteen years and … well, I guess I’m used to it by now. It’s not even that. It’s everything that happened between then and now. All that pain. I was hoping that when you went back, it would just be … erased.”
    He’s talking, of course, about The Bitch. That girl who ripped his heart to shreds. Who made it so that every subsequent girl would always be The Other Girl. Even me, apparently.
    “I’m sorry,” Adam says quietly. “You’re so great, Claudia. You deserve a guy who’s totally amazing, not some messed up cripple who can’t even commit to you.”
    I wish I could fix this for him. I see the pain on his face, etched into the lines on his skin, and I want desperately to change the past for him. I look across the room at my step, lying abandoned on the floor, still hooked up to the laptop computer, and I wonder if maybe it’s not too late. Maybe there really is a way to change the past.
    A few years