Chronological Memory Recalibration (CMR) The updating of a Rewrite's memory system after changing the present through time travel. These can be memories, feelings, new facts, etc. Referred to as an info dump in slang terms.
"You're telling me you remember nothing? At all?!"
I sigh for what seems like the millionth time that day. For the past half hour, my mother hasn't quite seemed to have gotten over the fact that I have no idea what's going on in the current reality I'm in, and has been staring at me like I'm some alien who abducted her daughter. I guess in a way I have: whoever Athena Roberts was in this reality has gone been and replaced by me, a girl that my mother clearly doesn't know.
"I'm serious," I tell my mum now, ignoring the fact that she's clearly not used to my being annoyed at her. "I woke up in a history class with the psycho that is Mr Clark, and then when I left school I didn't even know that that ass was my boyfriend."
Mum frowns at me, annoyed. "Mr Clark means well, Athena. And Connor is not an ass. That boy would do anything for you."
I snort, barely restraining myself from gagging at how clichéd that sounds. Besides, it's not true because Connor is an absolute jerk. I'm almost laughing when I say "Connor? In what crazy world would Connor ever do anything for me? You don't know how he -"
I stop myself from completing that sentence, again reminding myself that of course mum doesn't know. She doesn't know what Connor did, because in this reality, it never happened. Mum clearly realises this and raises an eyebrow at me. "I'm guessing you didn't like him so much where you came from."
I try to ignore the way that that sounds like an insult, as though I'm some unwanted alien that's crash landed in our house. I study the paintwork of mum's basement lab as though it's suddenly become fascinating, and before I've managed to work myself up to giving a response, Art has stuck her head around the door.
"Mind if I borrow Athena?" She smiles disarmingly as she says it, and mum can't help but smile at her. It gives Art enough time to grab my arm and drag me from the room before mum can say anything. Once we're in the corridor, Art grins at me.
For a moment, I'm dumbstruck as I look at her. She's standing in front of me, grinning and alive. The last time I saw her, she was dead on the floor of a club, her eyes lifeless. I can't help myself when I throw myself into her arms and hug her, clutching her tightly. Artemis has to extricate herself from the hug, and when she does, she looks surprised. "That bad, huh?"
I realise then that she's referring to the interrogation I got from mum. I shrug. "Not really, but..." I trail off, letting Art assume for herself. Art shakes her head in disgust.
"Let me guess, she was being annoyingly overbearing?"
I smile slightly. "That's one way of putting it, I guess."
Art shakes her head. "I just don't understand the way she treats you... sometimes she behaves as if you're some alien species and not her own daughter. It's awful." She shakes her head and then says, almost to herself, "no wonder you wanted to live with dad after the divorce."
I hate to use her in such a way, but Art has given me the perfect in, so I take the plunge. "Why did they have to break up anyway?" I ask, purposefully making my voice sound bitter, even though what I really am is curious. Artemis frowns, but takes the bait.
"Because they're better this way. Besides, you know why! Dad didn't agree with mum continuing to work at GenoTech after it was bought out by John McLean. He told mum it was him or the job, and, well, you can see the rest." She frowns at me. "You okay?"
"I'm fine," I mutter, even though I'm anything but. For the first time in, well, ever my usual facade has slipped away. I can't even think of a word to describe my emotions. Because unless Art's lying, which I highly doubt, then my mum's company was bought out by the Hunters -and not just any, but the Hunter. John Mclean, father of head cheerleader slash best teen hunter of her generation slash my now supposed best friend Christie McLean, is the leader of the Hunters, and, by obvious default, one of the best. Him hiring my mum meant getting too close to the enemy for comfort, yet she was still willing to work for the guy.
I hated her for that.
The thought surprised even me, so I tried to ignore it, but then another thought, almost worse, came to me. If I hadn't been an altered, would dad have been so adamant about mum leaving the company?
Did that make me responsible for their divorce?
"Earth to Ena...?" Art waved a hand in front of my face, and I realised I'd zoned out. When I refocused, Art looked worried. "You didn't get pissed at me for shortening your name! What's wrong?"
"Nothing." I let her follow me into her room, even though I was freaking out. How was I supposed to work out what was going on here and catch Art's killer when my mum was working with the type of people who'd kill me for that very thing? I suddenly felt old, and the time travel had nothing to do with it. Going into my room certainly didn't help.
With all the madness of the night so far, I'd managed to completely forget about how foreign the room looked to me. Oh there were some similarities to my old room -like the bed in the corner that offered a perfect view to the window and street outside (all the better to see Hunters coming) and the desk had the expected pen marks on virtually every inch of it. The bottom drawer still had the dent in the bottom from when I'd stupidly practiced self defence lessons in my room years ago and nearly broke my toe. But there, the similarities ended.
The beds were now covered in alluring red sheets, as opposed to the midnight blue ones I was used to. The laptop I'd once had a love-hate relationship with on the pen covered desk wasn't battered anymore because it had been replaced by a new, sleek one that couldn't have reached a year of its life yet. The wardrobe was now filled with clothes designed to make me stand out, as opposed to hiding and blending into the crowd. There was also a mirror on the desk, and make-up littered around it. I had beanbags for guests to sit on, even though I wasn't normally the type to bring people around. But that wasn't the part that really intrigued me. I was more interested in one of the walls, which had become a mural of photos. I moved to the wall to inspect them, surprised at how many of them featured Connor and Christie. There were photos of Connor and me at the last prom, a year ago. That was an amusing concept to me, considering that I didn't recall having ever attended a prom in my life. Then there were the photos of us out at dates and with the rest of the wannabe hunters, cheerleaders and football players that made up the popular crowd... which I was clearly now very much a part of.
And I hadn't even got to the Christie pictures yet. I wasn't sure who featured in the pictures more between my new boyfriend and best friend, but it seemed I spent every hour of the day with at least one of them.
"You zoned out again!" Art's voice drags me away from my thoughts for a second time. "Seriously, Athena, what's wrong?"
"I think I need to see dad," I tell her. I'm hoping that he'll know where my diary is, since he sounds like the parent I'm more likely to have entrusted it with. "Know where he is?"
"He had some lecture on the Odyssey I think? Or was it the Trojan war?" Art shrugs. "Something to do with Greek mythology."
I roll my eyes at this, because of course he's lecturing on Greek mythology -it's his speciality, and also the reason me and Art have such weird names. Art was named after Artemis, the virgin goddess of the moon and the hunt, whereas I'd got Athena, the goddess of battle and wisdom. I found that pretty ironic because even though Art was goddess level beautiful, she was certainly no virgin, and I definitely wouldn't refer to myself as wise. I shouldn't have been surprised Dad was lecturing though -he was a workaholic.
"I'm going to see him," I tell her again. I move to pick up my bag, making sure to have everything in it this time, and move towards the door. Art watches me with amusement.
"Sure you don't mean Connor?"
"What?" I pull my head from the closet where I've begun digging for practical shoes and stare at her in surprise. "Why would I be going to Connor's?"
Art looks at me like I'm an idiot. "Did you fall out of the wrong side of the bed this morning?" She waves at the mural of photos. "You practically live over there. Usually when you say you’re visiting dad it's code for you meeting Connor for a make-out session."
I'm horrified that that's the kind of person I'm believed to be -the type that will lie about going to visit her own divorced father just to make out with a guy. It seems I've learnt to play my parents well. "Well I'm actually going to visit dad," I say haughtily, unable to keep the annoyed tone from my voice. "I'm seeing Connor tomorrow."
"Oooh, where?" Art immediately flips into girl best friend mode. One of her many talents is getting people to like her, making it impossible to ever be mad at her for long.
"Moreno's."
Art smiles ruefully. "You love Moreno's. Good choice." She gets up to leave. "There's a party Friday night at Uni. Want to come?"
"Sure," I say. I've had a fake ID since I've turned sixteen. Not because I enjoy drinking (Art would never invite me if I was that type of person) but because me attending the clubs with Art enables me to watch her and know she's safe. Art's always found my over-protectiveness amusing, because thanks to the promise I made to my parents years ago, she's the only one in our immediate family that has no idea of what I am. Only my mum, my dad, and a few other altereds know the truth. Besides, who really wants to know that they could possibly die in a year? I certainly wouldn't. Me going with Art enables me to watch her... and hopefully get one step closer to figuring out why someone would want to kill my sister, who's never mean to anyone unless they give her a strong reason to. "Is there a theme?"
"Film characters, I think." She shrugs. "Who cares? You want a ride as far a campus?"
"Sure." I grin at the chance to spend more time with her. "You have room in the car, right?"
I am not kidding. Art once came over to take stuff to her flat (despite her uni only being a bus ride away, she insisted on moving out) and didn't have any room in the car. Her solution was to toss me into the boot -an experience I will never repeat since it ended up with me holding onto the sides of the car for dear life.
Only after I say it do I remember that it might not have happened in this reality.
"That was one time!" I breathe a sigh of relief and can't stop the grin spreading across my face at Art's response. "But for the record, the car has nothing in it."
"If you say so," I tease, knowing it will annoy her. She reacts the way I expect.
"Want that ride or not?"
I mime zipping my lips and am deadly silent until we get into the car. Once inside, we take one look at each other and promptly burst out laughing.
****
Lectures, unfortunately, are not so funny, though at least you're allowed to sleep in them. As my dad drones on about Helen of Troy, I sneak yet another glance at my mobile. We still have forty minutes to go and counting until it's over. I do the rational thing by covering myself with my coat, using my bag as a pillow, and sleeping.
"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty." I wake to the sight of a tall, redheaded man shaking my shoulder. His green eyes are crinkled at the corners with amusement. A glance around tells me that the lecture theatre is completely empty. "I didn't think that my lectures were that boring."
"They're not. But I think I've been there, done that and got the t-shirt when it comes to Greek mythology."I stifle a yawn. "Can I talk to you?"
"Well you're already doing so."
"In private. It's to do with the reality of my life right now."
Dad's expression becomes serious as he realises what I'm trying to say. It's a done thing that any altered always speaks in code in a public place -you never know who could be listening. "I see. Come to my office." He turns and moves to the front of the room to gather his files. I barely take in the surroundings as I follow him to his office, nor do I really feel the many students that bump into me as I push through the hallways. Dad's (and I guess Art's) university is a place I'm used to -it's one of the few places that doesn't change with each rewrite. The same lectures are in the same buildings. The same students are walking up and down the corridors swapping stories about the clubs they've been to, and the ones they're going to attend. The same lecturers are discussing things I don't (and never will) understand as they walk by. Chelsea University is one of the few things that has kept me sane through each rewrite. I've never told anyone that that's why I spend so much time here though -they just assume I'm the type obsessed with university boys, Connor being the obvious exception.
I stopped, hesitating in the corridor as I realised that normally I wouldn't have had that trail of thought at all. Was the info dump actually working?
"Athena?" Dad stopped to look at me. We were at his office now, and I followed him in, waiting until he had settled all his things in his desk before sitting down and saying what I'd been wanting to say since I'd woken up in Mr Clark's class.
"I have no idea who I am right now."
Dad looked at me in total confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that yesterday I was Athena Roberts, loner just trying to get by, and today I woke up in history class as a popular cheerleader with a boyfriend -and did I add that said boyfriend is a hunter-in-training? On top of that, you and mum are broken up, there's some weird guy called Daniel staying with us and -"
"Whoa, calm down!" Dad held up a hand for me to stop, and I took a breath as I forced myself to slow down. "Say that again?"
I didn't know how to explain it other than to admit the one thing I'd never told anyone. "I've been to the future."
"What?!" That got a reaction. Although rewrites were time travellers, we weren't able to go to the future. Or at least, we weren't supposed to. The reason rewrites had the name was because they were able to change events in the past, effectively changing their present and future. Essentially, they could "rewrite" their lives. A rewrite travelling to the future was unheard of. So the fact that I even knew Art was going to die shouldn't have been possible. "How?"
"It started about a year ago," I explained. "I rewrote a bad situation, but after I changed it I found myself in the future, in about a year. At first I thought I was losing my mind, but then -" Sudden tears came to my eyes at the memory of Art dying, and I had to wipe them away. "Something bad happened, and I woke up in the present again. Ever since then, any time I rewrite an event I get shown that future, and I've been trying to change it but nothing I do ever works."
Dad frowns, clearly only barely keeping up. "So you changed something else, and woke up in this reality, which is completely different from the one you're used to?"
"Yeah. But I haven't had an info dump yet, so I know nothing about who I am in a world where all my best friends are Hunters."
Dad instantly looked alarmed. "No info dump? In how many hours?"
I glanced at my watch. "Almost five." I didn't need to read the look on his face to see how bad that was. It was why I was here in the first place.
"And you have no memory of who you are in this reality?" It was almost the same question mum had asked, and yet when he asked he sounded merely curious rather than interrogatory. It was probably why I usually went to him with all my problems.
"Pretty much. That's partly why I came here. Normally I keep a diary of sorts. It helps me remember things when I do a rewrite and lets me to keep track of everything, but I didn't see one at home."
Dad frowned again. "Do you mean the journal you gave me? Because not everything is in there."
"What do you mean?" I watched as Dad reached into his cupboard, leaning down to let the retina scanner see his eyes. The door to his safe opened with a click. Retina scanners were the standard these days -safes with locks and keys were now only used by the extremely poor.
Dad pulled out a leather bound book and handed it to me before replying. "There's not much in there on personal stuff involving you and your friends. And if that's the stuff you need to know..."
I sighed as I scanned through the pages, realising quickly what he was on about. The me of this time evidently didn't like the idea of dad knowing all her secrets, even if it could save her life. All the diary had were the basics -where I went each day, and what I'd done when there. It wasn't a diary so much as a history lesson of my life, and without the parts that made it interesting.
To put it simply, the diary was useless. I barely restrained myself from throwing it across the room.
Dad took in my expression, his face becoming lined with worry as he did so. "Are you okay?"
"I -I'm fine." I practically choke on the words, fear clogging up my throat. "Can I stay at yours tonight?"
"Of course." Dad sounds happy to have me around his, and without another word he hugs me before getting up and collecting a pile of his papers. I don't think he realises how glad I am though. The idea of facing mum at the moment makes me almost physically sick. I try to smile and throw on a brave face though: I fully intend to work this out.
***
Dad's apartment is small, but clean. I'm not surprised though. Mum's the one who really earns all the money because as Dad regularly reminds us, lecturers don't really make much. Maybe it's the atmosphere or just me, but the smaller space seems a thousand times more comforting than home.
"Your bedroom's down the hall," dad tells me. I smile with relief, glad that he's letting me know these things because I'd have no idea what to do otherwise, and head down the hallway.
My new room is a pleasant surprise: unlike my room at home, it's a reflection of the real me, and not one of my many different personalities. I actually recognise the midnight blue sheets, pale blue walls and rose scent of my usual perfume. I flop onto my bed, grinning because this is home.
Dad pops his head around my door, ruining my five minutes of total tranquillity. "You eaten yet?"
I shake my head. In all the melee with my mum, Daniel and Art, I've barely bothered to eat. Only now do I realise that I'm starving.
"Well I'm ordering Chinese, so..."
I barely restrain a laugh. Dad and mum are renowned for their lack of cooking skills, which is why me and Art actually bothered to teach ourselves to cook a long time ago. At least that hasn't changed.
I tell dad my order, and then get to searching the room. Dad goes off to continue his research and whatever else it is he's always busy doing in his office whilst I systematically search the room. Eventually, under a floorboard, I find it: a small, unmarked notebook that the average person would overlook, but that to me means everything. Flipping open my diary, I begin to read.
____
Dedicated to LilyLikesToLol for her cover made. I thought it showed how imperfect things are for Athena.