The Second Chance Year

“Maybe we can pretend it never happened?” He shoves his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “It doesn’t have to be weird, right?”

I push a lock of hair out of my face and come out with a palmful of red powder. This is the worst night of my entire life. And the real kicker is that Jacob is right. What was I thinking, making out with my brother’s best friend—the owner of the apartment where I’m currently living because I’m homeless and underemployed—and thinking it could turn into anything less than a disaster? Could I possibly sabotage my life any further?

I stand up straight, determined to walk out of here with whatever teeny-tiny shred of dignity I have left. And then to wake up tomorrow and get my shit together. Maybe it really is time to look at those stupid college brochures my parents sent me. I mean, I’m running out of options here.

I glance up at Jacob and force myself to shrug. “Pretend what never happened?”

Relief flashes across his face. “We’re good, right?”

“Yep!” I say, my voice like rainbow sprinkles. “Of course. Absolutely!” He looks at me sideways, and maybe I’m laying it on a bit thick. Suddenly, I am exhausted. “Have a good night, Jacob.”

I head down the hall to do what I should have done hours ago. Climb into bed and pull the covers over my head.





Chapter 5


January


Because I’ve always been a glutton for punishment, I wake up with Jacob on my mind. If such a thing is possible, I am even more humiliated than I was last night. Here I was thinking he was lonely and wanted my company. Thinking we had a connection.

But no. The poor guy was just waiting for his night to start, and I showed up, pathetically covered in pixie dust and blabbering about my parental issues. He probably kissed me just to get me to stop talking.

And oh lord, what a kiss.

How am I supposed to live with him and pretend it didn’t happen? I guess the silver lining is that Jacob succeeded in getting me off his couch because I will be hiding out in my room, so I never have to face him again.

I open my eyes and stare up at the ceiling. I have truly hit rock bottom. The star-shaped midcentury chandelier above my bed sways gently, as if it’s nodding along to this assessment. A breeze from the window ruffles the curtain in agreement. I always leave it open a crack because the old radiator in the corner has one setting—broil—and otherwise I’ll be roasting when I wake up. I roll to the left side of the bed to grab my phone, debating about whether or not I should call Kasumi and tell her about what happened with Jacob.

My hand fumbles in the air. There’s no nightstand on the left side of the bed. There’s only—Oh my God, what is happening?

I bolt upright.

There’s a man sleeping on the other side of the bed, his back to me and the covers pulled up all the way to the crown of his head.

Panicked, I fling aside the duvet and jump to my feet. Did I sleep with Jacob last night? Maybe someone really did slip something in my drink at the carnival party. How can I not remember this? (Damn, if that kiss was any indication, I really want to remember this.)

And then I freeze.

The chandelier. I cried when I packed up that chandelier and Owen took it to storage in Flatbush.

The open window and the radiator that’s channeling the surface of the sun. That shouldn’t be here. Jacob’s updated building has forced air heating.

I spin in a circle as the rest of the room comes into focus. The screen prints I bought at the Brooklyn Flea. My West Elm duvet. A black chef’s coat with XAVIER’S embroidered on the pocket, ready to wear to work.

This is my old apartment. The one I had to leave when I lost my job. How the hell did I get here?

My gaze flies to the door that leads out into the building’s hallway. Maybe I got drunk and broke in last night? Except, the door is neatly closed, and there’s no sign of forced entry. Besides, if I’d broken in, my stuff wouldn’t be here anymore. Someone else’s stuff would be here. I reach out to touch the fabric of the chef’s coat, right above where my name is embroidered. It’s rough beneath my fingers, just like I remember it. No, I’m obviously hallucinating. I’ve finally cracked from the stress of the past year, and my brain has taken me back to the time before it all fell apart. I slap my hands over and over on my cheeks, hoping it will bring me back to reality, and when that doesn’t work, I pinch my upper arms.

Should I call Owen, or my parents? If I tell them what’s going on, they’ll be here in less than two hours to take me to the hospital. I do another slow turn around the apartment as if looking for a portal that would lead me out of this alternate universe and back into Jacob’s apartment. If Jacob is around here somewhere, he could take me to the hospital. But even in my addled state, that thought stops me. As if last night wasn’t humiliating enough, now I have to find him and admit that kiss finally broke me.

I back up against the wall. No. Nope. I can’t do it. Eventually, I’ll come down from this trip like a club kid the morning after a rave, and I’ll wake up on the floor of Jacob’s spare bedroom, my throat parched and head pounding. Until then, I’ll just wait it out here. But just as I’m about to settle in for the long haul, my gaze lands on the man in my bed. And at that moment, he sighs in his sleep and rolls over. The duvet slides off his bare shoulder, and—

My legs buckle, and I grab for the back of the couch to keep myself upright.

It’s Alex.

Somehow, I’ve hallucinated not just my former apartment, but my former boyfriend sleeping in my bed. Before I can come to terms with this latest development, my phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of me and lights up with Kasumi’s name.

And, suddenly, this absolutely bonkers situation comes into focus.

The carnival party. The fortune teller. My wish to go back and redo my terrible year.

Is it possible?

I grab the phone and run for the bathroom so I don’t wake Alex.

“Sadie, where are you?” Kasumi demands after I’ve swiped to answer. “You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago to prep the pastries for the New Year’s brunch.”

“I was supposed to be where?” I close the lid to the toilet and sit down.

“What do you mean, where? At work, Sadie. I covered for you and told Xavier the shipment of plums didn’t come in for the stone fruit galette, so you ran out to buy some. But he’s only going to accept that excuse for so long. So, get your butt over here.”

I stare at the bathtub in front of me. I loved that giant soaking tub; it was one of the reasons I chose this apartment. But I shouldn’t be here. This is not my apartment anymore. “Kasumi, did we go to a New Year’s party last night?”

“What? Yes, of course we went to a New Year’s party.”

“And, um.” I don’t even know how to ask this. “Can you remind me of… where? Where the party was?”

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