Still Loop 3
I watch Evelyn, with her brown eyes twinkling, brighter than the sun. They are eyes that for some unknown reason, I trust. Ones that make me feel that I can believe in her. That I can tell her anything.
I clear my throat, trying to get comfortable in a fundamentally uncomfortable chair. "I haven't answered your question – that is, your initial question about why I was in Hawaii this summer, and not the random question about whether this entire loop has to do with Edward Pickens III."
Evelyn perks up. "Right, of course," she says, leaning forward on her knees, like she's listening with her entire body.
"I got a summer-long internship on the Big Island studying at the Keck observatory," I explain. Evelyn's eyes are question marks. "It's one of the largest and most powerful telescopes in the world located on top of Mauna Kea, a dormant volcano."
Evelyn lets out a small whistle. "Wow that sounds... prestigious. So that explains why you're into Star Wars."
I shake my head, my lips flattening. "No, that's only because I'm human. Everybody likes Star Wars. Plus, Cyborgs are Star Trek."
"Definitely not everybody is into Star Wars. You really need to broaden your social circles." She pauses and adds, "So you're super smart?"
I shrug. "I guess. But I've just always been interested in space, since I was a kid. I applied for the program last summer and was accepted, and I plan on studying at MIT next year."
But it might never happen, I think. I might never get there, even if I can somehow find a way off this plane alive.
It was a miracle my parents even allowed me go to Hawaii. It was only because the doctors said it was okay to squeeze in this trip for a few weeks before my treatment started. But even though I was allowed to go, it somehow felt like a consolation prize. I worked my whole life for this, but suddenly it felt like it was all slipping away.
"So... astronomy?" Evelyn's lips pucker as if she's deciding how the word tastes. "You study the planets?"
"Not exactly." I glance at Janelle as she sleeps. "I'm more of a computer guy. Analyzing statistics and images, applying mathematical equations to narrow down data. That sort of stuff."
"That's cool," she says, and I can tell she means it. "You're like a genius or something. And then there's me – honestly, I'm not sure I can even spell genius without the help of autocorrect." She grins again, an obvious self-effacing joke. There are different kinds of smarts, and Evelyn clearly has social skills that I lack. She has a way of talking to people, and a talent of endearing everyone around her. Except when she's stealing their pills.
Her eyebrows raise. "Any chance you know how to fly a plane?"
I shake my head and she snaps her fingers with a swing of her hand, in an exaggerated oh-shucks kind of way. Still, despite her half grin, something isn't adding up. She didn't ask the most logical question of all.
If I had a summer-long internship, why was I leaving in early July, only halfway through the summer?
And I've learned that despite Evelyn Werth's chaotic energy – which might have something to do with being stuck in four hundred of these awful loops – one thing is for certain. She's perceptive as hell.
My stomach drops a bit, which seems odd since there isn't any turbulence. I lean towards Evelyn, but I'm looking past her, out the window. In surprise, I watch the plane gently tilt to the side.
"Do you see that?" I ask.
"Do I see what?" She leans back in order to see through my vantage point, and I still at her closeness. She smells like a breath a fresh air. Like the air after a rainstorm. And there's a warmth in her nearness that, like the loops, rings of familiarity. But in the best kind of way.
I refocus, and pull out my phone that was tucked in my back pocket. I bring up the compass on the screen.
"The plane," I tell her, as I watch the arrow turn. "It's changing direction."
She grabs my wrist, pointing the screen towards her. "What? How can you tell? The Internet is down."
"The location system and compass don't need any network connection since there's already a full GPS receiver built into the phone," I tell her, focusing on the digital compass.
She shakes her head. "Sorry, I don't speak Technology."
"My point is, the compass still works even with the Internet down. And it says we're headed south now." My heart rate increases as I glance out the window as the plane levels from the turn.
"So?" Evelyn shrugs, but she's watching me closely.
I straighten, feeling a sense that I'm onto something. Something important. "This flight should be heading east and north. Hawaii to California is northeast to be exact. But it's definitely not south. That's the completely wrong direction."
"I never noticed that before," she says, almost apologetically. "Maybe it has to do with the turbulence? Maybe the plane is just trying to move around it?"
I shake my head. "But we're already through the turbulence."
Evelyn looks uncertain. "I don't know, maybe there's more turbulence up ahead – or you know, there would be more up ahead, if time continued like normal. The attendant back at the airport said that there are storms along the west coast." She stands up, and peers around the cabin. "Let's ask Heather." Her eyes scan the aisle. I see Cheyanne in the back, and Lydia serving a passenger alcohol in the middle of the cabin.
"Wait a second, where's Heather?" Evelyn asks.
But we don't have a chance to figure it out because at that very moment, Janelle stirs.
I jump up, and I'm standing in front of her. Janelle grabs her cardigan and wraps it around her tightly, just like Evelyn said she would. Then she stands, unsteady on her feet. She's a few inches shorter than me, wearing dark jeans and sandals. Suddenly she looks up and her hazel eyes lock on mine.
Janelle squints, confusion shifting her features. She leans in, an inch closer.
She's right in front of me now. I stare at her, taking in her features, like I'm mapping them out in my mind. Recording them so I can jog my memory, and remember where I've seen her. Why she looks so familiar.
Her lips part, just an inch. "You," she whispers.
My heart hammers wildly. "What?" I mutter. The anxiety-riddled word buzzes around us, mixing with the crackling static of the white noise. My knees buckle and I'm unsteady on my feet.
But Janelle doesn't answer. I'm not sure if she's even heard me. Instead she scans the cabin, her eyes suddenly lucid. She glances just past me, her gaze pausing for a moment. But then her pupils glaze over again as she takes a step to the left. I reach out, to grab her elbow, but I'm already too late. She collapses, her limp arm escaping my grasp, and falls to the ground.
I fold to my knees. I want to help her, but there's nothing I can do. Her eyes roll back, and her body grows still. Seconds later, a man rushes over, telling me that he's a nurse. He grabs her wrist, looking for a pulse.
My eyes fall to the bag sitting in front of Janelle's feet. It's a leather purse, dark brown and covered in small letters. A name brand of some sort.
My skin prickles. Of course Evelyn knew Janelle's name because she must have gone through her bag.
Then it hits me. And if she went through her bag, then that means she went through my bag, too. That's how Evelyn knew my name during the first loop. I can't believe I forgot about that, but with the nosedive and time resetting every half hour, it's been overwhelming, like I'm running on the pavement trying to catch a moving bus. My memory isn't properly retaining information anymore. Instead, my brain has become more like a revolving door, spitting memories out as quickly as they enter.
"Come on!" Evelyn's grabbing me by my sleeve, pulling me to my feet. "Let's go!" She yanks me backwards as my gaze falls to the woman lying still against the ground.
You, Janelle had said. The word rings in my ears. Why did she say that? Did I seem familiar to her, like she did to me?
I'm still standing when the tip of the plane begins to tilt, and Evelyn shoves me into an empty seat a few rows up from Janelle. She leans across me, flinging the seatbelt across my lap and slipping the metal latch into the buckle.
Random objects fly forward, bags shift, a few people nearby force out little gasps, and I watch an iPad slide down the center aisle. I never saw that before, likely because I was near the front of the plane. Plus my eyes were always sealed shut in terror.
But this time, I force them open.
The plane is tilted at an unnatural angle. It's a surreal feeling like I'm both in and out of my body, my brain detaching from normal frequencies. While I know that the loop will reset any moment now, my body hasn't gotten the memo. I want to keep my eyes open and search the cabin for clues, but instead I find myself instinctually hunching forward, curling my head between my legs and curving my arms over the top of my head. Crash position, like I've seen in the movies. I clench my head, my entire body trembling, as I wait for the end to swallow me whole.
Then I feel Evelyn's fingers tighten around my shoulder, and she grips it with a strength that surprises me. My hand loosens from my head and falls over hers.
Together, our hands slide into the empty space between us. I dip my palm under hers and it pulses from the heat of her skin. My fingers slip between each of hers, alternating like the teeth of a zipper. They're locked together.
She squeezes my hand tight. And I don't let go.