Back to Square One

Maren was already awake when her mother called her down for breakfast. 

At 6:24, exactly like every other day, she heard her mother’s voice ring out from downstairs, summoning her.

“Coming,” Maren yelled back. She said that last morning too. Not that anyone noticed.

Pulling on clothes, in the usual shades of grey, she made her way down the stairs. 

Maren wrinkled her nose. She was sick of pancakes. Every morning, for nearly a year, she’d had pancakes.

Her mom, Talulah, made her way over to Maren’s side. “Your hair looks like a bird's nest, Mare,” she scolded. Talulah picked her fingers through the wispy brown strands, trying to detangle it.

Maren knocked her hand away. “I’ll do it on the bus, Mom. It’s all right.”

Talulah frowned. “Not Mom,” she said. “Mama. Mommy. Anything else, really.”

Maren grabbed her backpack. She didn’t need to look inside to see that it was filled with her school supplies, as perfectly organized as they were the day before.

Meticulously wrapping a pancake in foil, she said, “Goodbye, mama.”

Maren walked down the street to her bus stop. Only 96 seconds left before she could leave.

“MARE!” A voice rang out from her front step. 

“You’ll miss the bus,” Maren yelled back, even though she knew he wouldn’t.

Jasper ran to catch up with her. “Being late is fashionable,” he said between breaths.

“Not when being late makes you fail your SATs.”

Maren and Jasper were polar opposites. Even as twins, they were as different as night and day. Jasper couldn’t care less about school, or his future– he only ever wanted to hang out with his friends.

Jasper kept talking, his hands waving as he told Maren about his friend’s brother’s fish. There was no point in listening. She had heard it 363 times, anyway.

“Jasper?” Maren interrupted him. “Can you keep a secret?”

Her twin’s face lit up. “Of course I can! Tell me—” he said, leaning in closer. “Did you get a boyfriend?”

They reached the bus stop. “No,” Maren said. “I’m skipping.”

Jasper scoffed. “You? Skipping? Have you ever missed a day of school in your life?”

Maren smiled to herself. She knew where this was going. “Yes, skipping.” Seeing Jasper’s mouth again open to speak, she said, “I don’t have a secret boyfriend, I’m not a government spy, and I’m not getting a job.”

Jasper frowned. “You just answered every question I have.”

“Promise not to tell anyone?” Maren pressed.

“I don’t know, Mare. What if you fail your SATs?” He smirked. “Maybe I should tell someone, for your own good.”

Maren sighed. “I’ll buy you an ice cream tomorrow.” Not that there would be a tomorrow. 

“Deal!”

Maren didn’t notice her victory. After months of the same day, the same words, and the same news, nothing seemed important but tomorrow.

51.86 weeks. 11.93 months. 0.99 years. 0.099 decades.

That’s how many times she had lived through this day.

Maren stomped through the streets, her mood as heavy as her steps. Nearly a year had passed, and she wasn’t any closer to getting rid of this nightmare than she was before. She was starting to think it couldn’t be done.

At midnight, instead of going to a new day, everything restarted. Everyone said the same sentences, did the same things, and had the same thoughts, with no idea that it already happened.

Every day, she walked a new path, spoke to a new person, or visited a new place, in the hope of finding a clue– anything to reach tomorrow.

Maren hit a wall.

The wall reached out and steadied her with warm palms. “Are you all right?”

She looked up. It was not, in fact, a wall, but rather a boy. “I’m fine,” Maren replied, eyeing him from head to toe. She never hit anyone. By now, she knew where people were before they even got there. But this boy– she didn’t recognize him.

“What’s your name?” Maren demanded, studying his face. She had definitely never seen him before.

The boy laughed. “Nice to meet you, too.” He shook her hand, his bronze skin glowing against hers.

Maren glared at him. “What’s your name,” she repeated.

He finally seemed to notice that she was serious. “Adrian Khalil Taylor,” he said, humour coating his voice as he took a mock bow. “Honour to meet you.” He smiled another radiant smile.

Radio, Italy, train, dairy, dollar, holiday, Latin, railroad, Thailand, loath, Iran, she thought, silently forming anagrams from his name.

“Adrian,” Maren parroted. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“I’m a tourist. And either way, I could say the same about you. Are you skipping?”

Maren watched him. He couldn’t be from around here, she would know. “I have all the time in the world.” 

“All the time in the world, you say?” Adrian hummed thoughtfully. Maren saw a subtle shift in him. He wasn’t as genuine, as eager. 

“Actually—” Maren took a smooth step backward. “I need to go.” 

“Wait!” Adrian called after her. “Did I say something?”

But she was already gone.

11:47. 11:48. 11:49. Maren was wasting time, but it didn’t matter. As she had told Adrian, she had all the time in the world.

Adrian. She was so stupid. For a moment, when they were talking, Maren could have been certain that he was like her. That he knew that tomorrow wasn’t coming.

For months, she had been searching for a clue– and had just run away from the only one she’d found.

Maren glared at the clock. In five minutes, it would betray her again, bringing her back to the hot, sticky day she had long since memorized.

Tomorrow– the next today– she would go back and find him. If he was there, and he said the same things, she would know if she was still alone.

Empty.

That’s what the street was. Completely devoid of all people, like it had been every other day.

It was real.

He was real.

Maren couldn’t stop the thoughts rushing through her.

He’s like me.

Cupping her hands around her mouth, she yelled with as much dignity as she could muster, “ADRIAN!”

A voice yelled back from behind a building, “YES?”

Maren nearly fainted. It was him. He was here. He was real.

She rounded the corner, looking around for him.

“Boo.”

Maren spun around, tense and ready to run.

“Woah,” Adrian said. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She ignored him and went straight to the point. “Do you remember me?” she asked, not daring to hope.

“Do you remember me?” he countered. 

She took a moment to study him. The glimmer in his eyes. The way he spoke his words– not quite an accent, but rather a thickness that she couldn’t place. Even the way he stood was a refreshing kind of new.

“Well, seeing as we both remember everything, we may as well work together,” Maren said, already walking away. “I don’t know much– but if we combine our ideas, we can figure something out. My name is Maren, by the way.” All business, all practicality. No room for anything else.

She turned to look behind her. Adrian still hadn’t moved. “Are you coming?” Maren asked. She pinched her thigh to stop her foot from tapping. “We don’t have all day.”

Adrian shrugged. “We kind of do,” he said.

Maren stifled a sigh. “Fine, then you can–” she paused as a thought occurred to her. “Where do you come from, anyway?”

Adrian frowned at her, his suspicion clear. 

Maren rolled her eyes. “I’m not trying to rob or kidnap you or anything. It’s not like it would do much good, anyway.”

“New York.”

“New York City? You’re from New York?” Maren said with a touch of surprise. “How did you get all the way here?”

“A plane. It took a few tries, but I’ve been to some cool places.”

Maren crossed her arms. How was it that this eager, soft boy managed to accomplish more than she could? 

“So that’s what you’ve been doing all this time?” Maren asked bitterly. “Traveling the world? Sightseeing?”

Adrian shook his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he said, grinning. “Come on, we don’t have all day.” He turned and stepped away.

Glaring at his back, Maren followed. 

All day, they talked, comparing stories. Maren had hoped that a new perspective could help, but by the end of the day, they were still left empty-handed. 

“Well,” Adrian said. “It’s nearly midnight. I’ll be heading back soon.”

“What happens at the end of the day, anyway, when you’re so far away? You just appear in your house?”

“Yes.” Adrian shuddered. “It’s pretty awful. A bit like being crushed through a pipe, and it gets worse the farther away I am.”

Maren had never considered that Adrian could be brave, or have any personality traits other than naïve and gullible. But she could be wrong.

Glancing at her watch, she said, “You have 28 seconds.”

“Meet at the park tomorrow?”

Maren nodded. “Always.”

Maren didn’t bother to wait for her mother to wake her up. Assuring Talulah that she was going early to study, not to do drugs or murder someone, she went out the door and walked to the park.

“Maren!” 

She spun on her heel in time to see Adrian jogging towards her. 

When he finally got closer, he grinned, looking very eager. “When do we start?”

“Start what?”

“Looking for clues! Now that we know it’s not just us, we finally have a chance to get out,” Adrian said, excitement and volume growing. 

“How are we going to find anything? '' Maren asked, her voice monotone compared to his. “We can’t go around asking people.”

“We don’t need to ask people,” he said. His face was lit with hope. “We were chosen for a reason– we can find something.”

She doubted they were chosen by anyone or anything, but she humoured him. “Well,” Maren began, “we could look around, try to find answers.”

A mediocre answer lacking any detail, but Adrian bounced on his toes. “Deal! Meet you back here in an hour,” he called, already running.

Maren sighed. That boy had endless enthusiasm.

Approximately 4 minutes before the hour was up, Maren still had nothing.

After interrogating every person she passed, she’d expected to have results. 

No such luck.

Giving up, she searched for a shock of dark hair or the glow of bronzed skin in the sun. The streets were as empty as they always were, save for the rare tourist.

Where was he?

Turning down the main street, she called out, “Adrian!”

No response.

“Watch it,” a sharp voice said. She didn’t need to turn to know a young man was wearing all black standing in front of her, like usual.

He stepped around her and kept going.

Maren watched him leave. His dark clothes made him stand out against the light rather than blend in, and his black hair shone so brightly in the midday light that he was the most visible person on the street. A neutral tone would have kept him more camouflage, like tan, sienna, burnt umber, or—

“Maren?” Adrian said from behind her. 

“Did you see that man in black?” She watched him walk away. He looked suspicious enough to seem like a suspect. “I don’t recognize him.” The lie slipped out smoothly.

Maren turned around to look at Adrian, but something was wrong. So terribly, awfully wrong.

Adrian tucked his hands into his pockets, looking at the ground, the sky, anywhere but Maren. He was anything but his usually cheerful self. In fact, to her annoyance, she had already begun to miss his optimism.

“Are you alright?” Maren asked softly, as if speaking to a frightened deer.

Adrian shook his head. “I know what happened,” he said in a low voice. 

Maren forced herself to smile and said, “That’s good.” Not sure what else to say, she leaned back on her heels and simply watched him.

Finally, he spoke. “I can show you how to find out too,” Adrian said, pulling out his phone. He opened a map and pointed out a street that was rarely used anymore. “Go there this time tomorrow.”

“You can’t just tell me?” Maren asked, getting more confused by the minute. 

Adrian’s eyes widened, almost imperceivably. “I– I have somewhere to be,” he said, hurrying away.

Maren watched him leave, his steps quick and uneven. What had happened to make Adrian that upset? Surely he hadn’t found out what really happened?

The streets were empty as Maren made her way to the place Adrian pointed out. What if this was dangerous? If she died today, would she return the next morning?

Taking a deep breath, Maren rounded the corner.

The bricks were faded to a reddish-brown, and the windows were shattered.

“Not awfully welcoming,” Maren muttered to herself, stepping around broken glass to get inside.

As she stepped through the door, she expected people, or papers, or any type of clue... But all that greeted her were wobbly tables and a thick layer of grime covering everything.

Maren crouched down, studying the floor. There were footprints in the dust, made recently. And beside them, someone had traced the words, “I know.”

She was just late and would need to wait until tomorrow like Adrian had said. A vague couple of words couldn’t have spooked him that much.

The next morning, Maren waited in the park, watching the sun rise higher in the sky. 

She knew it was unlikely, but she was hoping that Adrian would show up. She wanted his help– needed his help.

She wasn’t surprised when he didn’t come.

Maybe that’s why he looked so sad the day before. So betrayed.

Maybe he really did realise why he would live a single day forever.

Maybe he was the one who wrote those words into the dust. To tell her that he knew who caused all this.

Her.

It had been an accident, of course.

But it’s never a good idea to make a deal with Time. It often doesn’t end how you want it to.

Because she was stuck, and couldn’t find a way out.

Not even death could part her from an eternity of today.