The Alchemy of Forever

Slinging Kailey’s backpack over my shoulder, I open the window and hop out onto the brick path below in one smooth motion. I can’t deny that it feels invigorating to be in a new body after months of painfully inhabiting a dying one. But that realization is followed by a wave of crushing remorse that hurts more than my old body ever did.
    I creep softly by the side of the house and head to the street. At the edge of the driveway, I turn back and look at the house once more. I’m sorry. I really am.
    A deep growl startles me out of my silent farewell. I whip my head around and peer through the darkness, eyes flashing, prepared to run. Or fight.
    “You look pretty active for a girl who just got out of the hospital.”
    I freeze. The voice belongs to a tall, dark-haired boy standing in the shadow of one of the redwood trees. He holds the leash of an enormous dog. The dog growls, straining against its chain.
    “I mean,” the boy continues, “did you really need to go out the window? Or was that for added drama?”
    “You were watching me?” Fear makes my voice tremble slightly. “Who are you?”
    “Very funny, Kailey.” Then a worried look crosses his face. “Wait, do you really not remember?”
    I exhale. So this is one of Kailey’s friends. For a moment I had been certain that it was Jared in a new body. Or, even worse, Cyrus.
    “Just a little concussion humor,” I reply, forcing myself to smile. “Who told you about the accident?” I ask, keeping my tone light even as panic rises in my gut. Had I missed something in the news after all?
    “Bryan. I ran into him earlier.”
    I nod with relief, regarding the boy again. His hair is dark and long enough to fall into his face. He rakes it off his forehead with strong-looking, well-shaped hands. His eyes are a surprising color of turquoise, staring at me from under thick brows. A camera dangles from his neck. There’s some-thing about him that feels familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.
    “It was no big deal. I’m actually pretty embarrassed about it, so if you can keep it on the down low, that would be great.” If word of my accident isn’t out there yet, I have to do my part to keep it quiet. Cyrus has unraveled mysteries with far less information.
    The boy’s dog snarls again, baring its teeth at me. Animals are tougher to fool than people. I’ve always wondered how they know something isn’t quite right about me. He jerks on the leash. “Harker! Stop it!” Harker whimpers and stops growling, though he continues to regard me with a baleful glare. The boy’s eyes lock on mine, and I see him noticing my backpack. “That’s cool. I can keep a secret.”
    I exhale and take a step back. There’s an awkward pause. “So what are you doing out?”
    An anxious look flashes across his face, but quickly disappears. He’s hiding something. We have that in common. “I love being out at night,” he says, tipping his face to the sky. “It’s quiet. You can see the stars, if the fog will let you. You know. Obvious reasons. What about you? Going AWOL?” He nods toward my bag.
    “I just . . . needed some air. I guess I should go back inside.” There is no way I can escape now. I’ll have to wait another hour, until the boy is home and asleep.
    “Sleep is probably a good idea.” He bends to scratch Harker’s ear as the dog lets out another low growl. “Hey, if you need a ride to school tomorrow, I can give you one. I hear your ‘no big deal’ totaled Bryan’s car.”
    School. Of course Kailey would have to go to school. How would her friends handle her disappearance? “Um, sure. Thanks. G’night . . . Harker . . . and . . . g’night . . .” I finish weakly.
    “Take care, Kailey,” the boy says, briefly putting his hand on my shoulder in a friendly gesture. I can feel the heat from his palm through my sweatshirt. I turn and make my way back through Kailey’s window.
    Back in Kailey’s room, I lie on the green silk coverlet and stare at the ceiling. It’s covered in tiny glow-in-the-dark stars. If I squint my eyes, I can imagine they’re real, except they aren’t arranged in actual constellations. This is a sky of Kailey’s own creation, the pretend universe she slept in, the safety and stillness she sought in her small world.
    My eyes are heavy, and I close them—just for a second, I promise myself—hoping that wherever Kailey is now, she’s at peace. In my mind I still see the stars, rearranging themselves in