“I’d say it’s more than enough.” Then he smiles—a real one this time that I can’t help but return.
I sit down in Uncle Jasper’s empty chair, still wishing the cuts and bruises on his face would disappear. “At least you’ll be okay in a few days, right?”
“Should be.” Kale’s smile fades and he absently picks at his sleeve. “It feels weird that the only thing I have to worry about now is trying to control my traveling. It feels good, though. Like I’m finally moving on.” He steals a quick glance from downcast eyes, not able to hold my gaze. He used to do that all the time when we were kids when he didn’t want to admit something. “Sometimes I wake up thinking maybe I’m not the only one like this, and it makes me feel more normal. That there are others out there who struggled with the same thing or still are.”
I lean in with my elbows on the table. “Kale, you don’t have to feel normal, because you’re better than normal. I know you hate the fact that you aren’t, but without it, you wouldn’t be you. This makes you, you.”
He finally lifts his eyes—committing this time. “And that’s a good thing?”
I can’t imagine him being anyone different. “A very good thing. Plus, it’ll probably make dates more interesting once you can control it.”
“What do you mean?” His question sounds too serious.
“I mean your time-traveling. Dates in this time will be fun, too, but—” When his eyes become hard, I know I’ve said something wrong. “What?”
“Harper, you can’t—” Kale takes a deep breath and stands up too fast. He walks over to the sink and grips the edge of the counter. A blue vein laces the swell of his bicep. After taking a deep breath, he says, “I’m sorry, it’s just … even if I can control it someday, I’m not sure if I’ll ever be okay with taking someone with me.” He stares down at the sink, his shoulders drawn tight. “If you ever went with me to the past, and something happened and we got separated …” Kale turns around and his chest raises and falls with forced breaths. “You could be stuck there forever. Okay?”
I stand up, keeping close to the table. I can’t imagine a worse outcome than being stranded in some past time, not ever able to go home again. The possibility never crossed my mind, but now that he’s said it, it’s so obvious. “Can you even take anyone with you?”
“I’m not sure, but I don’t want to find out.” Kale reaches out for my wrist and draws me closer. “But I won’t ever let that happen. I’m always careful so nobody is around when I think I’m going to leave. It’s a mistake I’ll never make.”
I nod, still imagining myself gone from here forever. I wonder if this is how Kale feels when he leaves. Does he ever worry he won’t come back at all? He already told me he did once, but I never knew what that would feel like until now. It’s a frightening thought.
There’s nothing more I want than for Kale to learn to control his time-traveling, for him to have a chance at a normal life. But even if he can’t, my feelings for him won’t ever change. He’s Kale, and he always will be. Flaws and all.
31.
Kale
Three days pass and I don’t feel any different.
I feel anchored here more than I have in years.
I’ve gone to Harper’s house every day, but every day I’ve been stuck working with Uncle Jasper in his garage. I don’t complain, and I don’t try to get out of it when he asks me to help him. Harper and I haven’t done anything in front of him that might’ve tipped him off about what’s going on between us, but I think he already knows.
And I think he’s doing it on purpose.
Just to see how long we can last before we slip up in front of him.
So between working with Uncle Jasper during the day, and spending time with Dad in the evenings when he gets home from work—since he’s been persistent about having dinners together now—I’ve barely talked to Harper at all.
I’ve seen her sitting on the porch. I’ve seen her come and go from her car at least once a day. Hanging out with Grace.
Once in the while, she’ll come visit us in the barn. Harper will sit on the old couch and flash me smiles when Uncle Jasper isn’t looking. I make more mistakes when she’s here.
It’s hard acting normal with her because it isn’t normal with her.
We’re passed normal.
Now it’s my fourth day stuck in Uncle Jasper’s garage, and I’m determined to escape when he’s not looking. Unfortunately, he seems set on keeping an eye on me.
“How ’bout those Royals last night, eh?” he says from under his latest project.
It’s a 1975 Mustang. And it looks too much like my own car for me to look at it long without creating an ache in my heart. Dad promised me he’d make it up to me. Something I don’t see possible.
“Yeah … sure,” I finally mumble, leaning against the car.
I flip a wrench over in my hand absently.
Top to bottom. Top to bottom.
Uncle Jasper keeps talking about the game last night and how the Royals are looking like they’ll make it into the post-season. Something he’s very proud of. Enough to keep him talking for so long.
The faint sound of the front door closing echoes across the lawn. I look up in time to see Harper stepping off the porch. I stand up a little straighter and watch her as she heads for her car.
Uncle Jasper’s voice is background noise.
I say “uh huh” when he pauses, and he keeps going, unfazed.
I silently take a couple steps forward and catch Harper’s eye. The corners of her mouth turn up when she sees me. She’s about to yell something from across the yard so I hold my finger up to my mouth, motioning for her not to talk.
Then I mouth “Save me” and point back to Uncle Jasper, whose legs still stick out from under the car. Harper catches on quick. She holds up one finger and points to her car. I nod and glance back at Uncle Jasper.
“—really think they could make it this year. And I’m not just saying that.”
Harper gets into her car and gently pulls her door shut.
“That’s what you said last year,” I say over my shoulder, ready to make my escape.
Just when Harper gives me the signal, Uncle Jasper starts rolling himself out. I make a break for it. Harper starts the car as I’m running across the lawn. Uncle Jasper shouts my name from behind.
My heart races, but I’m grinning as I open the passenger side door and jump in. Harper gives Uncle Jasper a friendly wave as she swings around the driveway. He stands in the large doorway with his arms crossed, shaking his head.
I’m not blind enough to miss the smallest smile touching his lips.
We finally won his game.
Once we’re on the main road, my heart starts to calm to its normal rhythm. Or whatever that rhythm could be called when I’m around Harper.
I look over and say, “Hi.”
The breeze from the window blows loose hair across her face as she looks over. “Hi.”