A Tale of Two Centuries

I roll my eyes but slow down, for even I notice my behavior is bordering on frantic. And I’m not quite sure why. Based on appearances, there is nothing to be anxious about. The four of us are simply going to relax— hang out—in Cat’s home, enjoying one another’s company. It will be much easier than any one of Austin’s nonstop adventures. But it doesn’t change the fact that everything about tonight feels significant, important. Almost as if I’ve crossed some invisible line and begun a new chapter in my time-travel tale. And that is why this is such a defining moment; this evening I will truly experience a typical night in the life of a modern teen, one who happens to be falling hard for the enigmatic boy waiting for her.

I glide to a stop in the atrium and check my reflection in the mirror over the entry table, looking for anything unseemly or out of place, any food lodged between my teeth. I pat my hair and straighten unseen wrinkles in my shirt. Smiling at the crimson stain on my cheeks, aware that this time my characteristic blush is not from embarrassment or discomfort but unbridled excitement, I throw open the door.

But it’s not Austin standing on the threshold.

Cold night air rushes in. I feel it, but that is not what brings about my goose bumps. The sound of Cat’s and Lucas’s laughter floats from the living room. They are just down the hall, yet it suddenly seems as though they are miles away. And when the visitor’s identity finally breaks through my thick wall of self-denial, the rest of the world fades away.

Reyna.

Pressure mounts behind my eyes. I clutch my arms around my waist, and the row of bracelets on my wrist clink together with my tremors. I want to ask her, Why are you here? and, Why now? but my voice is strangled by the hopes and dreams that I know now will never come to be. Besides, I already know the answer.

She’s here to take me home.

Before I can tell Austin good-bye. Before I even learn if I won the lead in the school musical. And before my big performance in the workshop.

Did I miss the third sign?

I wrack my brain, trying to remember what she said the third sign would be and wondering how I could’ve missed it. But then, I know why. I was living in the moment, swept up in all this life has to offer—and ignoring what I knew was coming all along.

And life will imitate art. That was the final sign. But art has always been Cat’s domain, not mine. How would I have known to look for it? When did it happen? The very fact that Reyna is here now, after sundown, proves it was today. But what was it?

Fisting a hand over my mouth, I try to conceal my sob, wanting to be strong. For a moment, I believe perhaps my strength can make a difference, that if I act calmly I can somehow change her mind. But my attempt to hide my dread is useless—as useless as begging time to stand still—for nothing can stop the desperate moan building in my chest. It echoes off the cold, hard surfaces around me and reverberates in my ears.

The television in the living room silences.

“Alessandra,” Reyna says, her voice low and unforgettable. “You look well.”

She dips her head, and I notice her long raven locks are disheveled. Almost as if she rode on the wind itself to get here. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had.

I shake my head at the wistful thought and swipe at a falling tear.

Reyna studies my face carefully, and my nails sink into the flesh of my palms as I will myself to be brave. I’ve been here for fourteen glorious days. That is more time than I ever hoped possible a few weeks ago. My weak and senseless tears will do nothing to change my fate. What I need to do—what I ought to do—is show Reyna my appreciation, and let her see that her magic was not in vain. That I’ve grown during my short stay in the twenty-first century and become the strong woman I claimed to be back in my own.

But the thought that I have yet to achieve the goal in my vision and may never see Austin’s face again crushes any shred of bravery I have in me.

Swift, purposeful footsteps behind me let me know I’m no longer alone with our visitor. Cat’s rose scent envelops me as she wraps a supportive arm around my waist and squeezes me tight. Her shoulders stiffen with the confidence I wish I had in this moment.

“Reyna, I’m surprised to see you so soon.”

Cat’s tone is confused as she looks to me, perhaps wondering too when we missed the third sign. Wrongly, we had both thought I would at least have until after the performance; maybe that is why I grew so lazy in my watch. But unlike when Reyna appeared to bring Cat home to her own time, the gypsy’s arrival tonight should not have come as a shock to either of us—if only I had kept searching for the markers.

Reyna hitches a dark eyebrow. “Alessandra knew that I would return when the third sign was revealed.”

I release a shaky breath and look to my cousin. “And Alessandra failed to pay attention.”

More footsteps approach. Cat glances back at Lucas, then meets my eye. In her misty brown depths, I can read the message almost as if she spoke the words aloud: the show is over. Alessandra Forlani is no longer. Lucas is about to meet Alessandra D’Angeli, time traveler. And how he will react to the true me is anybody’s guess. Reyna may be filled with gypsy mojo, but short of erasing Lucas’s memory, there is no way he can unhear or unsee what is about to occur. I would know, for the memories of the first time I saw Reyna, and of when Cat disappeared, have haunted me for the last two years.

I squeeze my cousin’s hand for encouragement—about as much communication as I can offer in my speechless state—and give a faint smile. I do not envy the explaining she will have to do when I’m gone.

Cat doesn’t appear too eager for the conversation, either. She takes a deep breath and turns back to Reyna. “When did life imitate art?” she asks. “I figured that wouldn’t happen until she was on stage. Opening night isn’t for another two days.”

I didn’t think the iron vise around my chest could tighten any more, but I was wrong. Hearing aloud how close I came to recreating my vision from the tent brings me to the point of agony, and another moan escapes.

Reyna pins me in place with the knowing look in her eye. “At rehearsal today, Alessandra, did you not connect with your role of Juliet? Find in her a kindred spirit? Understand her better because of your own emotions?”

I nod, remembering that rush I felt once I’d made the connection—and how much I looked forward to experiencing that again in front of a spellbound crowd. My lifelong dream was just within my reach, so close that today the wispy tendrils actually brushed my fingertips. I could feel the heat of the spotlight, hear the packed audience’s thundering silence as they hung on my every word. I came so close to experiencing the surge of their applause. Cat and I had been sure that this was why Reyna sent me here, that the theater is where my real strength lies.

Wasn’t that the point of her cryptic message?

As if I she can read my thoughts, Reyna asks, “Alessandra, your time was spent living adventures and experiencing the world of possibility, was it not?”

The fullness of her prophecy whispers in my mind—the adventure that you seek is full of possibilities, but always remember where your real strength lies—and I suck in a breath.

I may have been wrong about the second part of the message, which, if I’m to leave now will forever remain shrouded in mystery, but thanks to Austin, I more than fulfilled the first half of it.

Scenes from the last week chase the haunting words: my arms wrapped around Austin as we flew through the water on his Jet Ski, the sting of salt water biting into my cheeks. Holding his hand at Rush as the roller coaster slowly made its upward trek, and the security I felt as we plunged back to the earth, knowing I was safe as long as Austin was by my side. The way the waves pounded my board as he taught me to surf, and earlier, the scorching heat of his legs as he straddled my hips on the shore. And eclipsing each of the memories, though they all tug at my heart, is the exhilarating rightness of my very first kiss.

Cat’s brow creases as she watches me, no doubt seeing the emotions roll across my face. “Adventures? Less, what is she talking about?”

I shake my head, now not being the time to tell her about Austin’s challenge. She huffs a breath and steps