Page 50 of A Thousand Second Chances

Chris side-eyes me. “Again, I demand to know what happened to the overplanning Percy Wentworth I knew.”

I shrug, my cheeks coloring. “Hey, just because I’m terrible at following my own advice doesn’t meanyoushouldn’t listen.”

He’s silent for a moment, staring out across the water. I watch the morning sun play over his face, highlighting the light stubble on his cheeks. The surrealness of the moment strikes me. After the frosty reception I’d received Friday night, this sort of casual catching up had seemed an impossibility.

“What about you?” he asks, jolting me from my reverie. “You still planning to make games?”

It takes me a couple of seconds to answer. “Yeah, I think I’m in it for the long haul. When you’re coding, everything makes sense—rules broken down into fundamental statements the computer can parse and interpret.” I hesitate, debating whether to share this next bit, but the earnest way Chris is smiling at me makes up my mind. “There’s actually this summer internship I’m going for right now. It’s super competitive, though, so we’ll see. It’s with Avnel Studio. They’re the team behind—”

“RuneWorld Online,” he says, nodding. “That was your favorite game back in high school.”

Warmth floods my chest. “You remember that?”

“Of course.” His tone turns teasing. “How could I forget after all the hours you spent playing instead of hanging out with me?”

“Hey, I triedsomany times to get you to make a character, but you always refused! You said it wasn’t your kind of game.”

Chris surprises me by setting his jaw and turning to face me more fully. My heartbeat quickens at the intensity in his eyes. “Yeah, well, maybe I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge. Maybe I should’ve given it a chance.”

He holds my gaze for a long, charged moment, and I get the impression he’s not talking only about RuneWorld Online. Eventually, he breaks the connection, glancing down at his lap.

“I’ve, uh, actually been thinking about my own career path, and well…I think I want to be a writer.” His next words tumble out in a rush. “I’m planning to take some creative writing courses next semester. I know it’s a long shot to get published, and my parents would flip, but I’ve always loved stories, so…”

He scrunches his body up as though bracing for a scolding, and I’m filled with sudden anger at his parents or anyone else who ever made him feel like he’s not good enough. “Sounds awesome,” I say. His fragile gaze flicks up to me, hopeful. “What kind of stories would you want to write?”

He stares at me for a moment before his lips curl into a breathtaking smile. “I’m not sure yet. I’ve always loved horror, but I’m still trying out different genres to see what fits.”

I grin at the excitement glimmering in his eyes. “You should try writing about us.”

A deep blush colors his cheeks. “U-us?”

“Yeah. I mean, I know the exact words won’t stick, but a time loop still seems like a gold mine for an aspiring author.”

“Oh.” He clears his throat. “Right. Good idea.”

I frown, struggling to parse his strange reaction before giving up and changing the topic. “So, given your mutual animosity with Devon, I take it you quit the track team?”

Chris grimaces. “More like got tossed out on my ass. After that winter break, I considered going back in the closet. I mean, only my parents knew at that point, and they’d have been happy to pretend it never happened. But I dunno, that felt like…like giving up.”

“And you wanted to fight,” I say, a familiar shame creeping over me.

He meets my eyes and nods, his expression unreadable. “So, I said,Fuck it. I came out to my friends, my classmates, the team…”

I feel a sinking sensation in my stomach, able to guess the rest. “It didn’t go well?”

He huffs a bitter laugh. “It was a disaster. Coach made it crystal clear how he felt about a gay guy running on his track, and none of the others cared enough to fight for me.” He clenches his hands into fists, his voice brimming with anger. “It was like I’d caught the plague. Everyone was suddenly too busy to hang out and would look at me differently when we did. I was in a pretty rough state when I met Quinn. She’s the only good thing to come from the whole mess—well, her and changing my major. I’d only chosen Business to make my parents happy, and after I’d already let them down by being gay, I figured,What’s one more disappointment?”

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. His story hits painfully close to my own fears. He’d made the opposite choice I had, choosing to live out and proud…and the world had slapped him in the face. Things might be better these days than they used to be, but there are still plenty of ignorant people around. Maybe I’d been right not to risk coming out after all.

“Enough about me. What about you?” Chris asks. “How’s life been since your freshman year?”

I’m not sure how to reply to that. “Fine, I guess. Nothing’s changed, except it’s only me and my dad now.”

I flash back to my mom’s gaunt, worried face and the promise I’d made her based on a lie. Chris might’ve had it rough these last few years, but at least he’d had the courage to be himself. Me? I’d been stuck in my own sort of time loop long before returning to Mackinac Island, too much a coward to be honest about myself.

Chris must sense the change in me because he simply nods rather than pressing the topic. We sit in a not-quite-comfortable silence after that, my thoughts drifting as the ferry chugs along. The plume of water it leaves in its wake flashes in the sun.

When the ferry pulls up to the dock on the mainland, Chris says, “Well, we’re still here.” He makes a show of raising his arms and examining them. “No disintegration. No barriers stopping us from leaving the island or magical spell poofing us back. Looks like we’re free and clear.”