I turn. Ryan, who followed me, is staring at me like I’m nuts, but Harold is with him, and he just looks curious.
I go to Harold immediately. Everyone always ignores Harold. But there’s no one that I want to talk to more right now.
“So you didn’t see . . . ?” I jerk my head toward the empty space in the hallway where Carlos Estrada had been dripping water all over the carpet.
Harold shakes his head. He hadn’t seen him.
That means I’m not seeing ghosts—although Carlos Estrada was certainly dead. No, I’m seeing people from the past. I’m seeing Carlos Estrada in the moment just before he died, pulling him from the pool as his lungs filled with water. If he had been saved, if someone had noticed in time and dragged him from the water and given him CPR and saved his life, would Carlos Estrada have sputtered out an impossible tale about swallowing water and then ending up in the lush hallway of a beautiful academy, with a boy talking to him, quizzing him about Sofía?
If I grab hold of Carlos next time I see him, will I be pulled into his present, at the quincea?era where Sofía was, underwater but in the same time as her? Would I bob up to the surface and surprise a fifteen-year-old version of my girlfriend? I’m going to try that. Next time I see him, I’m going to try that.
A giggle of relief escapes my lips. It hardly matters. What matters is that I’m not seeing ghosts, not like Harold does.
Sure, that means rather than going crazy or being haunted, I’m in a world where the timestream is cracking around me, and it’s possible that the entire space-time continuum is shattering at my feet like broken glass, but it also means that as I crash through time, I will see Sofía, and that’s enough for me.
“Thanks,” I say to Harold. I turn on my heel, heading toward the dorms. I want to try the timestream again. The Doctor always says that it’s our emotions that lead to a lack of control, and I am hoping that it’s been my doubts that have affected my ability to travel in time. The more I questioned whether I could save Sofía, the more erratic the timestream became. Intent matters. Maybe confidence does too.
Dr. Franklin’s office door swings open as I pass, and Phoebe practically collides into me. “Bo!” the Doctor says, surprised. “I didn’t know you were there!”
I glare at him, at Phoebe as she leaves, walking hurriedly to the stairs and back to our parents without meeting my eyes. What was that about? What did he tell her? What did she tell him?
“Come into my office,” Dr. Franklin says, holding the door open.
CHAPTER 40
He asks how I’m doing.
I lie and say everything is fine. I don’t mention the cracks in the timestream. I don’t mention seeing Carlos Estrada or any of the other people from the past.
I don’t even mention Sofía.
But I do bring up Phoebe. “What were you talking to her about?”
“Just how she’s doing. She thinks you’re happier here than at home. Is that true?”
It was. Before all this shit happened.
“She mentioned that she broke her arm when she was a kid. Do you remember that?”
That seems like an odd thing for her to bring up.
“What’d she tell you?” I ask.
“Just that it was an accident.”
So she didn’t spill that I was traveling to the past when I was that young. Phoebe at least can keep my secrets, if nothing else.
“What else were you talking about?”
“Your mom just wanted me to reach out to her.”
“Why?” I shoot back aggressively. “What’s wrong with her?” My heart clenches, and I wonder: Am I more concerned that something’s wrong, or am I worried that she’s going to outshine me in this too—that she also has a power, a better one than mine?
“No, no,” the Doctor says. “Nothing like that. I just wanted to make sure she’s okay. She’s under a lot of stress.”
“Stress? Phoebe?”
“There are different kinds of stress, Bo,” the Doctor says, his voice placating and annoying. “You’re dealing with your problems, but that doesn’t mean Phoebe doesn’t have her own.”
Choosing a college and wondering whether or not she’s going to get an A, that’s her stress. She doesn’t have to worry about whether or not her power is driving her crazy, or if she can save her girlfriend from dying in the past while also saving everyone else and the school in the present.
Stress. Okay.
Dr. Franklin tells me how proud he is of me, how much more in control of my emotions I’ve been lately. If he knew that the timestream was leaking everywhere, I doubt he’d say that.
But I have to remind myself that this isn’t the Doctor I know. This is a Doctor under the influence of the officials.
He tells me about the medication he wants me to take during spring break. “Of course, I’ve spoken with your parents about all this as well.”