The Long Wait for Tomorrow Read online

  Patrick knew this would only raise further questions, and he ducked into the party. Tables were set up on both sides, white tablecloths glowing a radioactive purple under the gleam of black lights. A few heads shot up from their refreshments. Some mortified, others flabbergasted. A few angry ones, hurling insults that never reached Patrick’s ears under the blanket of …

  He caught sight of Principal Sedgwick, standing over by a large plastic bowl. Midway through ladling a glass of punch when their eyes locked across the room. Even from across the room, Patrick knew this wasn’t Sedgwick’s usual glare of oversensitive outrage. Kelly was a wanted man, and Sedgwick was now blessed with a luxury he rarely indulged in: confidence.

  Tossing the ladle into the punch bowl, he began to make his way over, navigating between the tables. A self-assurance that bordered on menacing.

  No time for cocktails, Patrick’s angels sang. Somebody’s going to die.

  Patrick threw himself into the gulf of dancers. Weaving between the thicket of hips, arms, and strobe-lit faces, he cast his sights around. Keeping an eye out for Edmund, Cody, Sedgwick, the whole damn world. It was like maneuvering through a snake pit, expecting a shot to ring out at any moment, send everyone tumbling to the ground.

  And, suddenly, Patrick was face to face with Cody.

  Well-fitting tux showing off his broad build.

  “Welcome to the party!” he yelled, immune to the undulating bodies around him.

  “Cody!” Patrick yelled back. “You’ve got to get out of here!”

  Cody cupped his hands around his mouth. “Come with me!”

  Not bothering to explain the why or wherefore, he began to slip away, into the crowd.

  Patrick glanced over his shoulder, thought he saw Sedgwick’s graying head floating above the fray.

  Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, his angels screamed over the music.

  Patrick plunged in after Cody. The jungle of warm bodies had grown thicker, and he was practically hacking his way through them when he burst out on the other side.

  Cody was waiting for him at shore’s end.

  He took Patrick by the arm and led him to an emergency exit. They slipped through, emerging into a dimly lit hallway, walls and floors made of rough concrete. A fluorescent buzz, coupled with the hum of electrical wiring, took over as the door slammed shut behind them.

  “Alone at last.” Cody grinned, cracking his neck and straightening his lapels.

  For a moment, Patrick thought he was about to get decked.

  Cody reached out and ran a hand through Patrick’s hair, ruffled it with a pleased smile. “I guess you heard we won anyway.”

  Patrick drew back a little. “Yeah, I heard.”

  “It’s kind of funny …” Cody motioned for Patrick to follow, and the two started down the endless hallway. “What with Kelly running away like that, right in front of all those cameras … Well, there’s not a sports fan in this whole country now that didn’t see us take Wilson down.”

  “Cody …”

  “I’m sure you know I’ve never liked Kelly that much …,” he continued. The hallway turned at a right angle, and he beckoned with an unnecessary wag of his finger. “A little too high and mighty. He never really was part of the team, you know? Not a real leader. He never really had it. I sure as hell ain’t surprised he freaked the fuck out, you know?”

  Cody came to a halt before another door, red exit sign buzzing above.

  Directly across from that, an open doorway led to the laundry room. Dryers clattered, washers made wet sopping sounds.

  “Why did you have to send the picture out?” Patrick asked him. “Why’d you have to e-mail it to every last person in the school?”

  “Kind of self-righteous for a petty thief, aren’t you?” Cody winked. He pushed on the door, which lead into an empty stairwell. “Forgive this roundabout route, but what with the breaking and entering, you and Kelly are the catch of the year, and I don’t want Principal Sedgwick getting his hooks into you.”

  Patrick followed him up two flights, the dry scrape of their footsteps echoing up through a thirty-flight rectangular spiral. They exited onto the second floor, a quiet hallway with the same wallpaper, same green and red carpeting as the lobby.

  They headed toward the elevators.

  Cody the very model of sophisticated fashion.

  Patrick plodding along in a ruined Armani suit.

  “Why did you do it?” Patrick repeated, growing angry.

  “You don’t want to get too excited there …” Cody pressed the Up arrow on the brass panel. “The only reason you’re not in jail right now is because I don’t want you there. You have no idea how lucky you got, Patrick…. Luckier than Kelly, anyway.”

  “What about Kelly—”

  “Shhh …”

  Cody waited with his arms folded in front of him. Humming tunelessly, making a little elevator music. Knowing well and true that Patrick was in a corner. Enjoying the perks of absolute immunity.

  The doors to the elevator slid open.

  Cody and Patrick stepped in.

  Cody pressed the button for the second floor from the top.

  The doors slid closed.

  Patrick didn’t even feel the lurch of the elevator as Cody’s fist slammed into his stomach.

  A sorry wheeze rushed from his mouth as he doubled over, fell back against the elevator wall. His tailbone rammed into the flat brass railing, sending infuriated screams to his brain. Breath gone. Eyes bulging, ludicrous thoughts of Harry Houdini, dead from a sucker punch to the stomach.

  “That’s for breaking into my house,” Cody told him, grabbing him by the hair. “And this one’s just ’cause Kelly ain’t around to stop me.”

  The second punch caught him in the face, a straight jab that sent his head snapping back. Skin splattering against his cheekbone. A few knuckles knocked his eyeball back into the socket, lights flashing, instantly becoming an agonizing throb.

  Patrick felt himself sliding to the ground.

  Cody caught him, hoisted Patrick to his knees as though he were stuffed with feathers.

  “You think I don’t know what you were doing?” Cody asked flatly. Patrick blinked against reflexive tears, straining to see. Cody’s face was a contorted wet thumbprint. “You could’ve just taken the card. But you two thought you’d take the pills in hopes that I’d be too afraid to tell on you.”

  Patrick couldn’t think past the wailing in his head. “He’s still got ’em, you dumb shit.”

  “Maybe …,” Cody mused, unaffected by the rebuke. “But they’re his now.”

  “They’re yours.”

  “Not so much anymore. The cops found the pills in his car. They let us know about it, asked about it. I denied it up and down. They should be running tests on them even as we speak. Kelly’s going to be the user, not me.”

  “They’ll test him,” Patrick shot back, regaining his composure through the obnoxious throbbing. “He’s going to come out clean. When Kelly tells them they were yours—”

  “He’ll have to tell them where he got them.” Cody stepped back, let Patrick stand on his own. “I’ll be tried as a juvenile on a minor possession charge. Kelly as an adult for breaking and entering. Same as you, Patrick.”

  Patrick glanced up at the round numbers above the elevator doors.

  Couldn’t make out just what floor they were passing.

  “As for testing?” Cody continued, preparing himself for their final destination. Straightening his suit, combing his hair. “Don’t be too sure Kelly’s going to come out clean.”

  Patrick drew himself up, shook his head.

  “Oh, you really are pathetic …” Cody shook his own head, a relaxed smile on his face. “Kelly’s been using for about a year now.”

  “No.”

  “Yes,” Cody replied simply.

  “Kelly would have remembered.”

  Cody laughed. “Oh, you mean in his little trek through time?”

  Before Patrick could ev
en begin to wonder where Cody was getting this from, his angels began to repeat Edmund’s words verbatim: He’s rationalized it, you see. In his head, he’s told himself it’s OK. It becomes nothing to him. As a result, when he comes back in time, that whole part of his life is erased along with everything else.

  Yes, Kelly could’ve had any number of skeletons floating about in his closet that he would never even have begun to touch upon.

  The door slid open and Cody grabbed Patrick’s arm, dragging him out into yet another hallway. Patrick stumbled along, shaking his head. A fresh shot of pain with each movement. “Why would Kelly do something like that?”

  “Because that is how it is,” Cody replied, tapping a finger against his temple. “That’s what athletes do. Kelly was always a wet blanket, but he knew what was expected of him. Kudos to him for that. At the very least, he understood that.”

  “If Kelly goes down,” Patrick threatened, weaving toward a wall before Cody jerked him back onto the straight and narrow, “then he’ll give you up, too. You won’t pass a test.”

  “Look at you with your little threats. You can’t even walk straight.”

  “You’ll test positive, Cody.”

  “And why’s that?” Cody asked pleasantly, coming to a halt in front of room 2507.

  “Because …” Patrick suddenly felt very unsure of what he was about to say. “Because you’re using, too.”

  “I’ve never touched the stuff,” Cody said with a superior grin. “I come from good stock, you’ve seen pictures of my dad when he was my age.”

  A nauseating tumor began to grow in Patrick’s mouth. “But the pills …”

  “Idiot, I was keeping those pills for Kelly. I bought them for him. Methandrostenolone, better known as Dianabol. Better known as Reforvit-b down in Mexico, where the dealer I bought them from gets the shit.” Cody leaned close, cupping a hand alongside his mouth with theatrical secrecy. “You dumb, stupid asshole … Kelly just broke into my house to steal back his own … fucking … stash.”

  The tricks the mind plays, Patrick’s angels lamented.

  Patrick realized he was bleeding from his mouth.

  Didn’t care, could hardly stay on his feet. “So what Edmund saw …”

  “What Edmund saw was me, buying Kelly his anabolics. I saw Edmund witness the deal. I told Kelly. And Kelly came up with that little plan to photograph Edmund’s little soldier.” Cody nodded with sound approval. “Got to hand it to him. It’s the only time I ever saw Kelly acting like a man of his means should.”

  Cody placed his hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “But you ain’t got a thing to worry about. Neither does Kelly, truth be told. Not much, anyway. After the cops take him in, my father’s going to ask to speak to him, alone. After he leaves, he’s going to tell the cops that Kelly didn’t do it, and that he doesn’t want to press charges. The cops won’t have found the missing files and money stolen from my dad’s safe anyway.”

  “That money was never stolen, was it?”

  “We just thought it would give the cops a reason to search Kelly’s car, maybe his house. But all he’s going to have to worry about is the steroid charge. Like I said, he did us a favor not playing in that last game. Sedgwick gets his sacrificial lamb, gets to make an example. And since we won the game without Kelly, we get to keep our trophy. Not to mention hefty contributions from rabid alumni.”

  “Got to admit …” Patrick let out a pained laugh, covering for the sobs he felt welling up inside. “You’re not the brainless wonder I always took you for.”

  “Too bad for you.”

  “No, too bad for you,” Patrick retorted. Spat some blood onto the carpet. “You shouldn’t have sent Edmund’s picture out, man. There, you fucked up.”

  “Kelly made me do it,” Cody sang with mock innocence.

  “I came here to warn you,” Patrick hissed. “I don’t know why the hell I still am, but there’s a very good chance that Edmund is coming after you.”

  “I’m not the one Edmund wants,” Cody assured him, the way an adult might tell a child that Mommy and Daddy’s divorce wasn’t his fault. “This really isn’t your night, is it?”

  The chill of central air was beginning to make Patrick tremble. “What are you talking about?”

  “Well, not everybody believes in killing the messenger,” Cody said with a sly smile. “Sure, I sent out that e-mail, but what do you expect? I’ve always been an asshole, right? A brainless wonder? I’m just doing what I do…. But what Kelly did, man, that’s just cold.”

  “What Kelly did, what?”

  “Way Edmund figures it, Kelly’s the real mastermind here. Wasn’t enough he had to take that little snapshot. Wasn’t enough he went ahead and sent it out to the whole school. No, Kelly befriended Edmund, gave him some wild story about time travel. He gained Edmund’s trust, even showed him the memory card, let him destroy it. Kelly gave him all that hope, just so he could dash that poor kid’s soul to pieces….”

  Even Patrick’s angels couldn’t begin to put it all together.

  “Betrayal stings like a bitch, Patrick,” Cody said, knocking on the door to 2507, three times, then once. “So if you were Edmund, who would you be after?”

  And for the first time, Patrick heard the sounds coming from beyond those numbers.

  The clank of bottles. Loud, raucous laughter.

  All mixed with the heavy bass and synthetic loops of hip-hop.

  All of which grew louder as the door to 2507 opened.

  Patrick barely had time to place Zack as the one who opened the door when a rough shove from Cody sent him stumbling into the room.

  “HEYYYYYYY!” came the manic, sarcastic cry of what had to be the entire football team.

  Patrick brought himself to a halt and fell back against the wall.

  Through the eye that wasn’t rapidly swelling shut, he saw a large room. Soft recessed lighting, a desk and table littered with beer bottles. The entire football team was there all right, dressed to the nines like a flock of gym-class penguins. The familiar faces; bodies of Wellspring Academy’s most popular girls lined the walls with their slender, sequined curves.

  And there, sitting at the round drink-laden table, was Edmund.

  Decked out in an oversized tweed jacket. Drunk grin on his face.

  Sitting next to him, with no particular flair or fanfare, was Jenna Garamen.

  ou’re back, baby!”

  For a moment, Patrick thought Jenna was talking to him. He could feel a simpering grin blooming along his battered face as he saw Jenna rise from her chair. Damp hair hanging over a wet shirt, she opened her arms. The swish of her hips propelling her across the room, and for a moment Patrick thought this might have all been one large surprise party for him.

  Cody brushed past him.

  Patrick watched in a sickening state of limbo as Jenna threw her arms around Cody.

  Drew him close for a loathsome kiss, full on the mouth. The fact that she was a good two inches taller didn’t help how absurd the two looked.

  Cody broke away with a loud smack. He turned to Patrick, one arm around Jenna, the other brandishing a beer that had somehow appeared in his hand.

  “Funny how life works out,” he told Patrick, taking a swig of Sam Adams. “We were in our limo, headed to pick you up, of all people. And who do we see stranded in the rain?”

  “Me!” Jenna declared proudly with a vampy grin.

  “Seems like she was in the mood to party!” Cody declared, raising his beer.

  Jenna let out a loud whoop, the rest of the room joining in.

  Including Edmund, but Patrick was going to do this one step at a time.

  “Jenna …” He tried to regulate his breathing, forget that he was trapped between four walls and a window leading to a twenty-five-story drop. “What are you doing?”

  “Uh …” Jenna put on a vapid expression. She pressed a finger against her cheek. Twisted it, crossing her eyes before going back to normal. “Having a good time!”

 
Patrick felt blood trickling down his chin. “Jenna … Kelly—”

  “Screw Kelly McDermott!” she lashed out. “And Patrick Saint. I’m sick of the both of you.” She spun around drunkenly, addressing the whole room. “Kelly actually thinks he’s from the future!” She was greeted with boisterous laughter, though it was clear they’d been enjoying this little joke for a while now. “He thinks he’s come back to right the wrongs! Make better what once was worse!”

  “Fucking true to that!” Edmund announced with a crass, uncharacteristically nasty selection of words, courtesy of what was looking to be quite a drinking binge. He raised himself out of his chair, all elbows. The hand he was using to support himself went slipping across the table. Beer bottles fell like dominoes, drawing cheers from the rest. Edmund raised a bottle of tequila to his lips and took a swig. “I mean, what kind of idiot travels through time and fucks things up the way he has?!”

  “Edmund …” Patrick glanced around, still unable to piece it together. “What are you …”

  “He’s looking for Kelly!” Cody laughed. “Looking for the man of the hour!”

  “Looking for Kelly,” Edmund slurred.

  “My guess?” Cody walked over and slapped his new friend on the back. “Kelly should be coming out to play any minute.”

  That’s why he sent the picture! Patrick’s angels screamed. He did it to draw Kelly out in the open, get him arrested. It was Kelly Edmund was after when he left the house. The name he said didn’t being with a C. It began with a K. He must have come looking for Kelly, and—

  Patrick opened his mouth, when—

  Don’t warn them about the gun. You tell them he’s got a gun, there’s no telling what Edmund might do, there’s no telling what or worse could be.

  “You can’t change history.” Edmund grinned, taking another swig of tequila. “Can’t be done.”

  “Yeah!” Jenna said, sauntering across the room and nabbing a handle of Aristocrat vodka off the night table. “Think about it! Kelly trying to change destiny! Can’t happen! We’re all stuck with what is and always has to be!” She took what appeared to be a mammoth swig from the plastic bottle, head tilted at a ninety-degree angle.