Young Marcus laughs uncertainly. “A Ken doll?”
Jason nods. “Four-point-oh GPA, no personality, no sense of humor, and no balls.”
Several of the guys who are overhearing laugh.
I am shocked.
Real-life Marcus opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but then doesn’t.
“So, you?” Young Marcus says, making a belated joke.
Jason punches him in the ribs, but it’s good-naturedly. I think.
“You’re not her type. Let it go.”
“Wow,” I say, more stunned even than hurt. Where the hell is this Jason coming from? I feel like there’s so much I never knew about the boy I dated, the boy I loved. “So you listened? He told you I sucked and you just took him at his word?”
“Well,no, I was trying to figure out what was what, and next thing I know, the prick is dating you.”
“So then you start insulting me.”
Marcus sighs. “I never insulted you. But I was angry. I was angry with him, hence why I said you were out of his league, and angry with myself for listening to him for those two weeks. Giving him time to make his move.”
Already, we are melting out of that dream. Body parts disappearing, the magnetic pulling feeling of being yanked out of a force field. It is disorienting and happening too quickly to stop. But instead of waking up, we find ourselves in another memory.
We are going through Marcus’s dreams lightning-fast, and I can’t figure out why.
In this memory, Marcus and I are outside now, on the track field behind our school.
Before either of us can speak a word, three people appear. Past Marcus, Past Jason, and Past Jason’s dad. It’s early morning in the dream, only just sunrise. There are patches of grass with morning dew that feels like an exhale and flowers, purple-blue poppies, the color of daydreams.
“Oh shit,” Marcus mumbles, clearly realizing what memory we’re in.
“What?” I ask. My voice is hoarse from the argument, and I look between the Marcus beside me and the Marcus on the field. Both Past Jay and Past Marcus are in sweaty gym clothes, working out as Jay’s dad coaches them through reps of push-ups and sit-ups and running up and down the bleachers.
“Come on, Marc!” Jay’s dad yells. “You’ve got to pick up that pace. Is that the best you got? That’s it? That’s how much you want first string? Jay is blowing you out the water. Leaving you behind.”
“Jay is welcome to go,” Past Marcus grumbles under his breath.
“What’s happening here?” I ask Marcus. The air is end-of-summer crisp, and I wrap my arms around myself.
The real Marcus mumbles something indecipherable.
“I asked you something!” I say, unable to believe I was just kissing the crap out of him two memories ago.
Marcus says nothing.
“Wow, really mature,” I say, then turn back to watch the scene in front of us. They are warming up their arms, making circles in the air, when suddenly Past Marcus jumps into Past Jason’s face.
“Try saying that again,” he hisses, his teeth bared. I’ve never seen Marcus that angry or that serious.
“And what happens if I do?” Past Jason taunts his cousin, moving in on him too. Now they are in each other’s face, and neitherof them is moving. And then Jason breaks it and laughs. Immediately, Marcus punches him in the jaw.
“Oh my God!” I exclaim in shock. Jason ducks, then goes for his own punch, misses, ducks another blow from Marcus, and jumps on him. And now the two of them are full-on tussling.
“What’s going on? What are you so mad about?” I ask the Marcus next to me, instinctively heading toward them before I remember that I can’t do anything to stop them. I can’t separate them or talk sense into them. “Is this where you find out me and Jason are together?”
“No, this was more recent. But I should have beat his ass then too.”
