Page 48 of A Thousand Second Chances

I force myself to rise and get ready. No sense lying around feeling sorry for myself. I’d done plenty ofthatlast night in-between brainstorming increasingly stupid ideas about how to resolve our time loop crisis.

All in all, I hadn’t come up with a whole lot. I’d made a list of spots around the island we could check out, such as the state park and the fort. I’d considered other same-day tests we might be able to convince the hospital to run on us, as well as strategies we could try out on the tourists and shopkeepers to search for more subtle signs of strange occurrences. But none of it seems any more promising than what we’ve already done. Ihave a creeping suspicion that breaking free of the time loop will require more than amateur sleuthing…but damned if I have any clue what that might be.

I finish my morning routine and tug on the same outfit I’d worn yesterday. Another perk of being trapped in a time loop—no need to do laundry. Heading out into the hall, I find my eyes immediately drawn to Chris’ door. It’s shut, offering no clue on whether he’s in there or not.

I try to parse my jumbled emotions and am pleasantly surprised to realize I’m still drained…yet also oddly hopeful. Spilling my guts to Chris had sucked as much as I’d expected, but it had also been kind of cathartic.Anythingbeat dancing around each other like we had been so far. At least now, it’s all out in the open.

However, as I beeline down the stairs and toward the bakery—narrowly avoiding Susie this time—my nerves make an impromptu return. What if Chris is still moody and standoffish today? What if he decides to ignore me entirely?

Not having any idea what to expect leaves me on edge as I step into the cafe and start toward the counter, grimacing at the all-too-familiar sight of Owen glowering behind it. I’m only halfway there, however, when a familiar voice calls out, “Hey, Perce! Over here!”

I turn, shocked to see Chris seated at my usual table, waving me over. I slowly approach, and he offers me a tentative smile as I slide into the seat across from him.

“I, uh, wasn’t sure what to get you, so I went with your usual,” he says, gesturing to a second cup and a paper bag sitting in front of me. “Chai latte and lemon poppyseed muffin, right?”

I blink at him because, apparently, being around him renders me incapable of forming words.

His smile fades, and he picks at his own pastry, tearing off little crumbs. “Your old usual, I mean. I have no idea whatyourcurrentusual is. Or if you even have a usual.” He deflates, puffing out a frustrated breath. “Sorry. This was a bad idea, wasn’t it? I wanted to surprise you after how we left things last night, and I thought—”

I shake my head, finally finding my tongue. “No!” I clear my throat and repeat with less force, “No. It was, uh, a nice gesture. And for the record, it’sstillmy usual.”

Chris’ smile reappears, and the sight does something pleasant to my chest. Something I know I need to rein in right now before it gets me into trouble.

“So,” I say hastily, cradling my chai latte so I have something to do with my hands. “Where’s Quinn? Is she meeting us here?”

Chris hesitates. “Actually, I didn’t tell her about the time loop today. Thought I might give her a break, keep it just the two of us.” He chews on his bottom lip, eyeing me from beneath his long bangs. “If that’s okay?”

Just the two of us?My confession yesterday must have done even more for our rapport than I’d dared hope.

“Yeah. That works for me,” I say. Entirelytoowell if I’m being honest. “We can always pull her in if we need her. She seems like a go-with-the-flow sort of person.”

Chris snorts. “You’ve got that right.”

A more comfortable silence than usual descends. I sip at my latte even though it’s hot enough to scald my tongue and nibble on my muffin. Chris sips his own drink—a cappuccino, if I had to guess—and demolishes his breakfast as if it had personally offended him. Seeing him act as uncertain as I am gives me the courage to break the silence.

“I guess we should start by comparing notes on yesterday. Anything interesting happen while you retraced your steps?”

“Not really. Same as that first day.” He flicks his eyes to me, then away. “More or less. Nothing struck Quinn or me as out of place.”

“Yeah, me neither. If something happened to the two of us that original Saturday, I’ve got no idea what it could be.”

“Same. I mean, we were barely even together.”

A thought strikes me. “Actually, that’s a great point. If somethinghadhappened that first day, it seems most likely that it would’ve occurred while we were in close proximity but not around anyone else since they weren’t affected. Let’s see…” I hold up a hand, ticking items off on my fingers. “Friendship’s Altar when you came to fetch me. And…that night at dinner when we talked outside the bathrooms.” I frown. Was that really how little we’d interacted?

“What about outside the fudge shop?” Chris asks.

I shake my head. “Quinn was there, too, remember? And she’s not affected.”

“True. But we’ve already been back to both those other spots, and I didn’t see anything interesting. Did you?”

I slump in my seat, quickly shifting my knee when it accidentally bumps Chris’. “Not really. I guess we could always revisit them, but…”

“But both seem like a long shot,” Chris agrees.

We fall silent. Before it can drag on long enough to get awkward, I add, “I’m not too keen on retracing our steps or wandering aimlessly around the island again today, but to be honest, that’s about all I could come up with last night. Please, tell me you’ve got a better idea.”

Chris raises his eyebrows. “All those brains and the only thing you can come up with is repeating what we already tried that didn’t work?”