A Tale of Two Centuries

He places two soft fingers over my mouth, silencing me with an apologetic look that begs me to let him continue. “From that first day in class, I saw in you the person that I used to be, and I hated it. I wanted to wake you up, make you change. I decided it was my job to teach you how wrong you were for not living the way I thought you needed to.” He scoffs. “As if I know so much about the world.

“But you, Princess, you were the one who was right that day at my house—I’m not living, either. All I’m doing is hiding. And being with you this week, watching you and seeing how trusting and honest you are, how much you care about everyone…Alessandra, it changed something in me.”

Austin bends his knees so I no longer have to look up to see into his eyes, and he tucks a strand of loose pink hair behind my ear. Cradling my face in hands roughened from salt water and surfing, he glides his thumbs across my cheeks and says, “Baby, you’re not the one who needs to change, and definitely not for a chickenshit like me. You’re perfect the way you are, and I’m an asshole for not realizing it sooner.”

I sit in stunned silence; my face presses into the warm comfort of his palm as the words you’re perfect wash over me again and again in spine-tingling waves.

Austin Michaels thinks I’m perfect.

And if that is true, then it has to mean he cares for me.

Drawing on every ounce of courage I’ve attempted to build within myself during this time-travel adventure, I grip the hard muscles of his arms and say, “But Austin, you did teach me. In the last ten days with you, I learned more about what it means to live than I have in the last sixteen years. But even more, you make me feel as though you can see all the tiny pieces of who I truly am inside, the real Alessandra that no one else knows—the woman who lives behind the girlish act of perfection I wear for the world. You may not agree with me all the time, and you exasperate me far more often than I’d like, but you respect me…and Austin, that means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

When I finish speaking, I realize I am trembling, but it’s not from the night air. In the distance, I hear the faint sound of music seeping from Lyric, but neither that nor the cars whooshing past just a few feet away on the street breaks the roar of silence between us.

Though I did not profess the full extent of my affection, I have no doubt Austin knows how much I care for him. And as his silence lengthens, I begin to think that perhaps I was mistaken. That he does not feel the same, and that he is now preparing to let me down gently. Pondering that thought, I fortify my heart for another man’s rejection, but even while I do so, I cannot regret sharing my feelings.

My faith remains in the truth I have fought so hard for my cousin to believe: the pain of not having Austin return my feelings may be excruciating, and it may not be worth the turmoil of heartache, but choosing to take a chance and living life always is.

Austin interrupts my somewhat dark and profound introspection by dipping his forehead to touch mine. And just like that, all thoughts are whisked away, and my senses are filled with the scent of mint.

With our gazes connected, we share a breath, one now sharpened with the same sting of awareness from the beach. My pulse quickens with the realization that this does not feel like rejection…this feels like desire.

And I’m so ready to experience another one of Austin’s kisses that I almost explode from the anticipation.

His darkened gaze drops to my mouth for a long moment, and the skin around it prickles to life, already tasting him. But instead of lowering his head and capturing my lips, he looks into my eyes. The fullness of my yet unspoken affection reflects back at me.

Then, with eyes so dark they blend into the night, Austin whispers, “I do see the real you, Alessandra.” He smiles. “And I think I’m falling for the girl I see.”

Chapter Twenty-two

I awake the next morning fresh from a dream that consisted of nothing other than Austin’s sweet words of affection and the exquisite feel of his kiss. It was the best dream I believe I’ve ever had. My perfect bubble of happiness surrounds me throughout my morning as I eat breakfast and get ready to go to Austin’s house, where we will (finally) begin work on our Modern Leadership paper. The paper that started it all.

It’s incredible knowing that, were it not for our American government class or for Miss Edwards, Austin and I would be relative strangers. We would’ve never had the chance to see past our initial impressions of each other. He would have never issued my challenge, and I would still most likely be scared of my shadow—acting in the winter workshop, yes, but too timid to audition for the school musical or to reach out and fully experience all this life has to offer.

Miss Edwards may very well be the best teacher in the history of the world.

A knock on the door has me jumping from the table, ready to greet the day, and Cat lifts her hands in mock surrender. “Enough with the giddy grin already. All this freaking sweetness is giving me a toothache.”

Her tone is light, but I sense the worry behind her words. Assuming it is more of the same, concern over my heart breaking at the end of this journey, I brush it aside. I refuse to let fear dictate my actions. Laughing instead, I widen my grin and lift my chin at the front door. “Then I am to assume you are not at all giddy at the thought of seeing Lucas this morning? If I remember correctly, Austin and I were not the only couple caught in a compromising position last night.”

Cat transfers her gaze to the closed door, and even in profile, I can see the smile lighting up her face. I snicker, and she mutters a playful, “Shut up.” Her almost bashful tone makes me even happier.

Shortly after Austin bestowed his second life-altering kiss, the unromantic sound of two throats clearing, followed by various snickering catcalls, broke out behind us. Austin lifted his head, and when I looked over his shoulder, there stood Cat and Lucas, not at all appearing apologetic for ruining our moment. So when Austin and I drove past Lucas’s car a half hour later and found the two of them locked in their own embrace, we had no pangs of remorse for honking the horn and whooping loudly.

In spite of the teasing, I am happy for them. Last night Lucas stepped up his game, as Cat would say, and the payoff is a cousin who finally owns her feelings. I watch as she speeds across the floor and throws open the door.

“Hey, beautiful,” Lucas says, pressing a lingering kiss to her cheek.

Cat bites the corner of her lip, losing the battle to keep her enormous smile hidden. “Hey, yourself.”

Lucas’s playful grin turns into a smug smile as he takes her hand in his. Lifting his eyes to mine, he asks, “How’s the head, Alessandra? The last time I got as sloshed as you were last night, I was an absolute waste of space for at least two days.” He shrugs and flashes his dimpled grin. “But it did keep me sober. I believe my days as a high school drunkard are behind me.”

Cat snorts. “Yeah, I don’t think even a hangover could cut through the lovesick daze she’s been walking around in. Come on, lover girl,” she says, nodding her head toward Lucas’s car in the driveway, “your brooding bad boy awaits.”

…

Austin lays our books out on his kitchen table, making a point to brush my fingers with his. It becomes a game between us, who can steal the most innocent touches. I laugh when he overtly slides his hand along the exposed skin on the back of my neck when he walks to the refrigerator, and when he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively as he pops the top on his can of soda, I shake my head.

“You are incorrigible,” I tell him, even though I am secretly delighted. I love seeing Austin minus his walls of protection.

“That I am,” he says with a devilish grin. “And you love it.”

Choosing to leave that statement unanswered, I open the spiral notebook I brought with me and write Modern Leadership at the top of my page. “Seeing as though you are the expert in this department, and that I have been a very diligent participant in your challenges, I submit to your extensive knowledge, Mr. Michaels. Where shall we begin with the topic of Leadership in Government?”

An older man with dark black hair and blue eyes steps out of the closed room near the kitchen, the same inauthentic smile from the photos at Austin’s beach house plastered upon his face. “Did someone say