‘I need to speak to you about something,’ I said. ‘It’s important.’
He nodded and poured himself a mug of coffee. ‘Let’s go up to my room.’
I had never seen a bedroom so sparsely furnished. There was no colour. No mess. Nothing out of place. No posters on the wall, no dirty clothes on the floor, no empty glasses or mugs. The room of someone who hadn’t been here long. And then I realised: the room of someone who didn’t plan to stay.
‘Take off your clothes,’ he said.
‘Excuse me?’ I said, certain that I must have misheard him.
‘Take off your clothes,’ Ryan said with a smile. ‘I’ll find something of Cassie’s for you to wear.’
‘I’ll be fine.’
Ryan insisted. ‘You’re drenched. Don’t be ridiculous.’
When he left the room, I stripped down to my underwear and quickly wrapped myself in the towel Cassie had given me. His room was cold. Looking round, I could see no heater. There was a soft knock at the door.
‘Is it OK to come in?’
‘It’s fine,’ I said.
Ryan gave me a pair of black trousers and a black jumper. He left the room while I dressed. Cassie’s trousers fitted OK, but her jumper clung very tightly to my body.
‘OK, I’m decent.’
He came back in and smiled. ‘What was so urgent you had to walk through a thunderstorm? I’m glad you did. I’m just wondering why.’
Watching him, I tried to sort out my feelings. Was he the same person? Did I still like him?
‘I’ve been up all night thinking,’ I began, sitting next to him on the bed.
‘About what?’
‘You,’ I said.
He raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m not sure whether to be flattered or alarmed.’
‘When are you from, Ryan?’ I asked, my voice shaking as the absurd question left my mouth.
‘Wolfeboro,’ he said looking at me with a bemused smile. ‘I’ve told you before.’
‘Not where,’ I said, trying to keep my voice steady. ‘When? What year?’
The smile faltered, just for a nanosecond, and then lit up even brighter than before. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I know you’re from the future. I just wondered how far in the future.’
Ryan laughed a short, hollow laugh. His pale skin went a shade whiter. ‘You’re not making sense.’
‘Fine,’ I said. ‘We’ll just pretend then. You’re from the future and I know you’re from the future and you know I know you’re from the future. But we can just make out that I’m insane if that makes you more comfortable.’
Ryan swore. He stood up, opened the door and scanned the landing, before shutting the door again and sitting back on the bed. He leant forward, his elbows on his knees, head in his hands. I stayed where I was, awkwardly, wondering if I should speak or reach out to touch him or just stay as I was.
After what felt like for ever, he looked up at me. ‘How do you know?’ he whispered.
I felt a jolt through my whole body. Ryan had, effectively, just admitted that I was right.
‘Lots of little things.’
He looked at me, his eyes strangely fearful. ‘What sort of things?’
‘You were clueless about ordinary food.’
He groaned.
‘And you didn’t know things that everyone knows, like who Hitler was.’
Ryan rubbed the space between his eyes. ‘I looked him up after that history lesson.’
‘And then there was the way you asked me lots of things about myself but you were really evasive when I asked questions about you.’
He nodded, as though making a mental list of how to improve his undercover persona.
‘You told me that an environmental disaster wiped out all the trees in Wolfeboro, which isn’t true. I Googled it. At first I thought you were a member of a cult or a strange religious sect that kept you sheltered from the world.’
Ryan looked sideways at me and smiled thinly. ‘So what convinced you that wasn’t the explanation?’
‘
He swallowed hard. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Connor’s autobiography.’
‘You’ve lost me,’ he said, but the usual confidence had gone.
I unzipped my backpack and removed the book. ‘I accidentally took this home last night. I must have mixed it up with my own books.’
Ryan reached out, almost snatching the book. ‘How much of this did you see?’
‘I’ve seen all the photographs and read the first chapter,’ I said. ‘But really, even without the book, I knew there was something not quite right about you.’
‘Is it really so obvious?’ he asked. ‘Do you think anyone else has figured me out?’
I shook my head. ‘No one else suspects a thing. Just me.’
Ryan rubbed his fingers through his hair, frowning at the floor.
‘So, now that I know your secret, are you going to have to kill me?’ It was meant to be a joke and I attempted a laugh, but the sound came out all wrong.
‘No. You’re safe. I’m the one who’s dead.’
‘Why? It’s hardly your fault I figured you out.’
‘Ben and Cassie will kill me. I’m not supposed to bring anyone home. And I shouldn’t have left the book out. I was reading it before you came yesterday and I just shoved it under a pile of school books. I panicked.’
‘They can’t blame you. You didn’t invite me. I just turned up.’
‘I shouldn’t have let you in. I’m supposed to make an excuse if anyone shows up at the door. We have to keep a distance.’
‘So why didn’t you?’
He looked across at me. ‘I couldn’t. You’d walked down the lane in that gale with no coat to bring me my jacket. You looked so cold and I just couldn’t . . .’ He trailed off.
‘I would have worked it out anyway,’ I said. ‘There were so many little things that didn’t add up.’
Ryan looked at me and smiled. ‘You know, for someone in your time, discovering that your friend is a time traveller from the future must be quite a big deal. How come you seem so unsurprised?’
I shrugged. ‘It has been said that I’m hard to impress.’
‘Along with beautiful, smart and completely unshockable.’
I felt my face begin to heat up. I wished to God that I could learn to take compliments. ‘So are you going to answer my question?’
‘You’ll have to remind me what it was.’
‘What year are you from?’
He hesitated, as though considering for one last time the possibility of not telling me. A flash lit up the room and was quickly followed by a rumble of thunder. The overhead lamp flickered and then died.
‘Hold on a sec.’ Ryan rummaged around in his desk drawer.
He found a pack of twelve candles and a lighter. He put one half of the candles on the desk, the other half on the windowsill. As he moved the flame over the wicks, each of the candles flickered to life, casting a soft pool of wavering light.
Ryan sat back on the bed. ‘I was born in February 2105. I travelled back in time from 2122.’
I tried to work it out in my head. I had been born in 1995. Ryan was a hundred and ten years younger than me.
‘You’re seventeen?’ was all I said.
Ryan nodded. ‘I just said I was sixteen so I could join your Year Eleven class.’
I glanced again at the pile of books on the floor beside his bed:
