"So, what did you do?" asks Megg, my best friend since the second grade. She's the only person in the world who knows about my little secret.
When we were thirteen I told her about my power to turn back time -- just about thirty seconds. Maybe up to a minute in reverse if I concentrate hard.
"What did I do?" I say, not wanting to remember the stunned expression on a super hot life guard who looked at me like I was a freak. It was a moment I couldn't take back. "I turned fifty shades of pink and ran out of there. Then, I had to listen to my Dad rant about 'the importance of making good life choices' and 'now is not the time to go boy crazy.' And then he blamed Mom. It always comes back to Mom."
I can tell Megg doesn't want to hear about my family drama. She's still daydreaming about my lifeguard -- that tall, tan boy who was way too good looking to be straight. She asks, "Are you going to see him again?"
"Haven't you been listening? I couldn't bump it back. Something went wrong."
We finally get to the front of the line. Our friendly Starbucks barista is ready to serve us. "Soy chai tea latte," I say.
"I'm buying," Megg insists. "Payment in advance for helping me let Brad go."
Megg has the nasty habit of dating guys for less than three weeks before getting bored and dumping them, just when the poor bastards start to get serious.
I stand by, just in case the bad news breaks the boy's heart and causes a scene. So far, my little power has helped ease the pain of four broken-hearted ex-boyfriends. Megg doesn't always let them down easy, at least not on the first try. So it's my job to make things go as smoothly as possible.
"I hope I can help with Brad," I say as we wait for our drinks. "But I can't guarantee anything. What if it stops working like it did with Lance?"
"Lance?"
"The lifeguard."
"Lance the Lifeguard," she says with a lick of her lips. "So perfectly corny." She takes her Iced Tea, gives a little smile to Starbucks guy, and we sit down. "I think what happened to you at the Paseo club is nothing to worry about. It was probably just a one time thing. A little glitch."
"I don't think so."
She takes a sip, then glances out the window, keeping an eye out for Brad who is due to arrive any minute. "Have you tried using your Gift since you kissed Lance?" She always calls it my Gift. I can almost hear the capital "G" in her voice.
"Yes," I explain. "I've done it like twenty times since then."
She points out the window. "Brad's car just pulled up. Time for Operation Abandon Ship."
"I forgot to ask. Why are you breaking up with him?"
"Same as the others," Megg says, moving to another table to pretend she's not with me. "Too needy too quickly. I want my senior year to be strictly no strings attached."
Megg takes her set of numbered flash cards out of her purse. Then, as Brad walks in, she moves a strand of her beautiful blond hair away from her face. Brad is long, lank, dark skinned, wearing his usual Valencia High basketball jersey. His eyes light up when he sees her. Who can blame him? Megg is the complete California girl package. A rocking hard body built for dancing and surfing. Blond hair, blue eyes, never a blemish. Somehow her face looks angelic and devilish at the same time.
Then there's me. I make the most with my red hair, green eyes, and a wonder bra, but I just don't get the same level of attention that she does. And I'm not ashamed to admit it makes me jealous. But at the same time, it doesn't really bother me. It may sound like sour grapes, but I want someone who is attracted to my personality and not my chest size. If I was as drop dead gorgeous as Megg I would always wonder if my boyfriend loved me or my looks. Beautiful people problems.
Brad sits down in front of Megg. They small talk awkwardly for a while and then she glances at me. I nod that I'm ready to begin.
She starts with the honesty approach. She always starts that way. It never works. "So, I just wanted to say... that these last few weeks have been wonderful, but because senior year is about to begin, I don't want to be in a serious relationship."
Brad suddenly stands up, and even though he's a big guy, his voice squeaks in hurtful surprise. "You're breaking up with me?!"
Everyone in Starbucks stares at them. Megg's eyes go wide. Panic mode. Too much drama. I close my eyes and bump it back...
"So, I just wanted to say..." She looks at me. I hold up two fingers. Megg flips to her next index card. "Wouldn't it be fun if we started seeing other people?"
"You're breaking up with me?!"
Uh-oh. Bump it back.
"So, I just wanted to say..." I give her the number three sign. "I no longer find you attractive?"
"You think I'm ugly?"
"No, not ugly, just not attractive."
"Well, maybe I think you're ugly!" Ooh, Brad's showing his mean side.
Bump it back.
"So, I just wanted to say..." Number four. "It's not you, it's me?"
"What's not me?" Brad asks. "What are you talking about? Why do you look so serious? Is this like a joke or a you trying to say..." I think I hear her voice catch. Tears are on the way. "That you don't like me anymore?" Sobbing begins.
Bump it back.
"So, I just wanted to say..." Number five. "It's not you, it's your penis size."
"What?!" Brad does a spit take. Right in Megg's face. She drops her ice tea to the floor. Ice cubes are everywhere.
Bump it back quick!
"So, I just wanted to say..." When I give her the number six sign she looks at me, surprised that we've gone through to the end of the list. "I wanted
to say that I have discovered I am a lesbian."
"Really?" Brad says, surprised.
"Yes, don't tell anyone, but yes, really."
"That's kind of hot," Brad says, leaning back in his chair. They awkward talk for a while, Megg gives him the "let's just be fiends" spiel, and Brad let her know that in the future, if Megg and her life partner ever wanted to "mix things up and have a
He'd be happy to volunteer his services.
After he's gone, Megg moves to my table. "I thought number two was going to work."
"It didn't," I say. "He freaked out at number five. I can't believe you went there."
"I wish I could remember the expression on his face," she laughs. Then, taking another drink of her tea, she wonders, "Isn't it weird? You get to keep all of these alternate memories, and the rest of us don't have any idea you've turned back the clock."
"Oh my god," I say.
"What?" Megg says. She turns to see why I am staring at the doorway. In walks Mr. Lifeguard himself. Lance.
"Is that him?" she asks. I barely nod. "That's perfect timing, Super Girl," she says with her wicked smile. "Now we can find out if he's your kryptonite."
