10:10

♫

"Nova," I said. "Once I get you out of this loop, you've got to go out with me."

Before she could respond, I said, "Mom, I swear I'm okay . Please leave."

Mom said some stuff like it was fine if I had a boy over at home, for as long as we were not having a baby, but the funny thing is none of those would happen because I was with a girl and I was trying to keep her away from death. Thanks for the advice anyway, Mom.

The light of the candle Mom was carrying disappeared from the gap under my door. I heard her footsteps slowly fade away, so I sighed and dropped on my back. I closed my eyes. Then like a flashback, I remembered, like it did not just happen a few minutes ago (but at that point what did time even mean to me?) how Nova and I had just kissed. On my bed.

I curled up into a fetal position, trying to keep the excitement inside especially because it is not over yet – but could I be a teenager in love for a moment and savor the thought of her lips on mine? Her hair slightly tickling my skin when we kissed? The scent of her neck? Good god. I know you've thrown me into this time-loop madness, but with that kiss, I could forgive you.

"You can't just ask out someone and then turn your back on them, y'know?"

I turned around and faced her. I still wasn't used to being that up close to her very attractive face, but I'd take it like a woman. "Nova, I'm stumped. How am I going to keep you alive?"

"I'm gonna go back to my question. Are you sure you've done everything already?" Softly, she touched my cheek. Butterflies swarmed my stomach when she ran her finger through my cheek then down to my chin. She was going to kill me. I wanted her to kiss me again. "Like are you really sure?"

"What are you . . ." I could not finish my question. She was leaning in closely, and there wasn't even much space to close between us. She smiled.

I figured it out.

She was looking at my lips again.

Is she trying to . . .?

Before she could lean in and kiss me, I stood up, my face burning. "I cannot believe you!"

She burst out laughing all of a sudden. She was laughing so hard as I sat there on my bed, trying to calm down my heart. I had no idea how naughty Nova could be! Like, she had some nerve! Doing that did not even cross my mind, and there she was, trying to tempt me, and then laughing as soon as she got a reaction out of me!

"Relax!" she said, still laughing. "Oh, boy! You looked so red and . . ." she laughed again.

"This is not funny at all," I said. "You're not taking me seriously, I know it."

My heart calmed down already, and she stopped laughing. When silence crept in, the feeling of doom came to replace it. I was scared again. 30 hours of being awake, 30 hours of being haunted by the memory of her dead bodies, the memory of her scared face. 30 hours of wondering if we would even go back. 30 hours of being scared of her dying yet again.

Nova sighed. She was suddenly sitting beside me, at the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to make you smile, is all . . ."

I looked at her. Her face is so sad. "Don't make that face," I said. I covered her face with my palm. "Take it off."

She smiled. "Ya like this one better?" She pointed to her smiling lips.

I smiled back at her. I wanted to touch her face and admire it forever. "Much better. Yeah."

"But seriously though, uh, it's an idea."

"Nova."

"All right. Sorry."

I sighed.

"So let's get this straight. You wake up today – the 'today' meaning the original timeline, right?"

God, that felt like a forever ago. "Yes."

"Everything was fine, yadda yadda, you fell asleep – found out you missed the gig, then at 11:43 I came knocking on your window, yes?" I said an uh-huh, before she continued. "Then I died, and then suddenly you're back in your bed again, and I knock on your window, and then during the course of the night, in one way or another, I die, yes?"

I bit my lip and nodded.

"Damn. Does it have something to do with the gig? You know, something you want to really happen, but it didn't happen, so then the timeline will repeat itself over and over until you've witnessed it?"

"But I wake up every 11:43, several minutes before you come to my window. I still wouldn't have made it had I tried to go to watch your gig, and I don't wake up earlier than that – I have no control over it."

"Well, shit. I don't know." She sighed again and sat next to me. "How about I sleep here through the night?"

"That happened in one of the loops. You had a terrible night terror and died."

"What the hell?" Nova massaged her head. "I'm so sorry, Cora. You've witnessed so many of my deaths. That could . . . scar you forever."

"Nova, I do not care." I buried my face in my hands. "I just want you alive. And . . ." I looked at her. "I . . . I am not the one dying. I should be the one apologizing to you for failing in keeping you alive. In many of the loops, you died because of me, or because you were protecting me. It kills me that I cannot do the same to you." Tears welled up in my eyes like the crybaby I stupidly was.

"Cora . . . that is so stupid, don't blame yourself," she said. She wiped my tears using her thumb. "We'll figure it out together, all right?"

I nodded. It was comforting to be there beside her, but at the same time, I was scared something could happen anytime that would cost her life again. I was on edge. I checked the time: it was 4:07 AM. It was the longest loop already. It was close to dawn. I have never been that close to morning in the previous loops I'd been in. At that moment, literally anything could happen.

"But . . . why me?" she said. She stood up in front of me, then began walking back and forth like she was a detective deep in thought or something. "Why my death? Why does it have to be me?"

Then it came.

Nova's possible cause of death right in front of my eyes.

"Nova!"

"What's that smell?"

Fire.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Mom's candle. She must have left it in the bathroom. It must have fallen. Fuck it!

Nova was quick to hold my hand, pulling me behind her, like she was gonna fight the incoming fire in front of us. Like she could take it one-on-one. The fire reflected on her eyes, but instead of the usual fearful eyes I see in her before her death, I saw bravery, willingness, like she could take on the fire as an enemy and kill it on her own. But she couldn't. I know she couldn't.

"Mom," I said, suddenly remembering. "My Mom! She's sleeping. I have to go check on her!"

"No!" Nova said, stopping me from coming to the door. We looked at each other. She knew of course that we'd have to save my mother, but at the same time, she knew that anytime she could end up dead. One wrong move could mean her life. At that moment, she was more likely to die than me. Nova knew that she had died multiple times already, and that timeline was not going to be any less kinder to her.

And yet . . . and yet, despite that knowledge, Nova held my hand tighter. "Cora, I will check on her. I will save her, don't worry, okay?" There was fire crawling on my door already and my heartbeat sped up even more. "Cora, I need you to jump off that window and get some help."

"No!" I said, pulling her hand before she could reach the door. "You jump off the window and I'll go get Mom. Nova, this is not safe for you! You know – you know everything that's happened already and I won't – I won't let you die again!

"Cora, this is dangerous!"

"This is more dangerous for you!"

I was close to tears. I did not want her dead, and I would do anything for her to be alive and see her perform on stage again. I want her to laugh with her band mates, I want to go on a date with her, I want to kiss her outside of my bedroom, and I want Nova Turner to be Nova Turner who is not dead. She has so much life inside her and I won't want to get in the way of it.

But I did not want to choose between her and my mother.

"Nova, please." If she jumped on the window there would also be a chance she could die. If she left this room to save Mom, there would also be a chance she would end up dead. I did not want to let go of her hand, but I knew the longer I held her, the higher chance it was for my mother to die in the fire.

Think, Cora. She asked the right question earlier: why her? Why does it keep looping back to her death? To this night? Why does she keep dying? What else have I not done?

Think!

"Cora . . ." I looked up at her. My eyes felt watery. My face was wet as well – with sweat, with tears, or both, I did not know. But Nova said my name and I wanted to listen to her. "Cora, it's fine. Besides, if I die tonight, we'll meet again, right? 11:43, I will knock on your window, and we will relive this night. When we held each other. When we laughed. When we kissed." She said the last line with a chuckle. Like we weren't going to die any minute.

"No," I said, shaking my head. My vision was blurry with tears. The fire was becoming bigger. "W-What if I don't loop back?"

She softly smiled. "Then at least I would be able to save your mother." Nova caressed my cheek. "Miss Cheerleader . . . we don't have time."

I cried. Miss Cheerleader, she said. Her nickname for me. How dare she? How dare Nova Turner smile like that in front of me, holding my hand, calling me Miss Cheerleader? How dare Nova make me love her so much more?

Then I realized. It was so hot in my room, and the fire was slowly crawling inside. I could hear falling cabinets outside, breaking glasses, and the smoke was slowly engulfing us. I could hear Mom outside. She was awake. She was screaming. Running, this time. Alive.

"Nova, I'm sorry," I said, holding her tighter. "I'm so sorry for being a coward girl all this time. I'm so sorry for laughing at you when you asked me that question. I should have . . . I should have told you that ever since you've burnt my dress–" Nova chuckled at that, "–I'd fallen in love with you."

She fell silent. Her gaze felt stronger, and she wasn't tearing it away from me. "Cora . . . "

"I should have told you that yes, I liked girls. But of course, I liked only you," I said. The fire was bigger this time. I could hear my mom calling a fire ambulance. "I should have sat beside you in Math class. I should have told you I loved that song of your band called Sour Patch Blues, where you sang the bridge yourself. I should have told you about all the time I went to your gigs, screaming every lyric. I should have told you how I search for your name every time. I should have told you I loved your voice, your haircut, the rings on your fingers, your laugh, your thoughts, the way you walk, the way you carry yourself. I should have told you I love everything that makes you Nova Turner . . . I should have told you what you meant to me – what loving you meant to me. I should have told you that, Nova. I should have . . ."

I could not continue what I was saying because I burst to tears, and she pulled me into a warm, tight hug. She buried her face in my neck. Suddenly the fire did not feel as hot, and I stopped feeling any sense of danger. It took a comfortable embrace from Nova Turner for me to feel extremely safe even inside a burning house.

"Cora Flair," she said. "I know the house is burning, and I know you could hear the fire ambulance right now, and I know your mom is outside . . ."

I closed my eyes tight, chuckling.

"I know all that, but, Cora . . ." There was a five-second silence. "Can I kiss you right now?"

She let go of the hug. I looked at her eyes – her very beautiful eyes – and I knew I did not want to waste any more minutes. I held her cheek, stood on my tiptoes, and kissed Nova Turner myself.

I closed my eyes. Her hands wrapped around my waist as I reached for the back of her neck. To hell with the burning house, and the fire ambulance. Nothing mattered more than her lips on mine.

Then I opened my eyes.

♫

November 8 / 7:30 AM

One moment I was kissing Nova Turner in our burning house, and then in the blink of an eye, so quick I barely managed to realize it was all happening, I opened my eyes and suddenly I was back nestled on my non-burning bed, in our non-burning house, feeling suddenly all well-rested, as though I did not spend 30 hours and more leaping back and forth through time to save my lesbian crush from the clutches of her persistent deaths.

Did I do it this time?

I had to check my phone: it was November 8, in the morning. Not November 9, the morning after – well, after everything happened. It was the morning before Kent would torment me in the locker hallways. It was 16 hours before Nova would knock on my window to ask me for a ride.

I came back to the morning before everything had happened. I did it. I did it. Why? What did I do differently? Was it Mom? Was it because it was nearing dawn? Was it the kiss?

Was it because I told her how I felt towards her?

I bit my lip and looked at my own hands.

I felt so refreshed, like I slept for ten hours. For a fleeting moment I was scared . . . what if it had all been nothing but a dream? But it felt too real for it to be just a dream. I could still clearly remember Nova's face that night. All those nights, those mosaic moments, all etched in my consciousness. When she looked at me scared before our car came tumbling down. When she held my hand. When she kicked the back of Carter's head. The look on her face before she decided she wanted to kiss me inside the burning house.

I touched my lips. Even the kiss felt real as well. I could still almost feel it . . .

I got up from bed and washed my face. If I remember correctly, I'd start the day by practicing with my cheerleaders. After that I would go to the locker hallways and Kent would approach me – now that I know that, I took a mental note to avoid him at all costs. Or not, because Nova would approach me while I was talking to him, so perhaps that's worth the torment from Kent, too. Then I would go home, watch a movie, walk outside, cook with my Mom, then I would sleep, then it would be announced that a Hollywood celebrity would get married . . . then Nova Turner . . . she would knock on my window. Tick tick, tick, tick tick, tick.

But I've got to stop that, too! I've got to ask Nova if I could give her a ride tonight, or I'd just hit up her members and tell them not to leave her behind. I'd do anything so the loops won't come back again.

I stood in front of my sink, and suddenly I felt a heavy pang of bitterness slowly sinking in my chest. All those times I spent with Nova – all those conversations we had, all the moments we'd spent together . . . only I would remember them. Only I would know that in a different timeline she held my hand, caressed my cheek on my bed, and kissed me.

Tears formed in my eyes. But it's okay, right? At least she's alive now. At least . . .

I grabbed my towel and dried my face, walking back to my bed. Nova Turner is alive today. I felt like an idiot because why did it have to take a burning house for me to tell her how I really felt? Was the universe a big stupid cupid that it put me through hellish time loops of seeing my crush die just because I was way too stubborn to confess?

I get it! I will tell her how I feel. Today.

I was still drying my face when I heard a familiar – way too familiar – rhythmic knock on my window. Tick tick, tick, tick tick, tick. That was the knock rhythm of Nova Turner whenever she would knock on my window. I know, because I heard it too many times already, through many different timelines.

I dropped my towel and looked at my window.

"Cora Flair!" she said. Her hair looked messy, and she had this wild look in her eyes. She knocked again. "I had the strangest dream!"

I couldn't even laugh because the last time I was too shocked to open the window for her, she fell to her death.

"Nova!"

I opened the window as quickly as I could – held her forearm the way I did so many times before – and pulled her inside, the way I'd always had.

"Don't look too panicked," she said as soon as she'd gotten inside my room. "I've taken rock climbing classes."

I smiled. I smiled because I remember this. "You mean house climbing classes."

She smiled at me meaningfully, like she knows something I don't, then a whistle as she looked me up and down. "Nice nightgown."

I'd forgotten how to be embarrassed but blushing would always be a part of me. "Nova! What are you doing here so early in the morning?"

"I just . . . Cora, I had this dream where I . . ." She looked at me, her eyes wide, making hand gestures as she talked. "You were . . . I was in your house and, like . . . there was fire. And we kissed, and you said you–"

"Nova," I said, cutting her off. She looked too adorable. She stopped speaking, and for a while we just looked at each other. Suddenly she knew she didn't have to say anything more.

"Nova, why . . ." I remember her saying it that one night, before she got hit by a car. I also remember her sitting in the passenger seat, saying the same thing. It was so simple but I remember that she said she didn't want to play in their gig that evening.

"Nova, why don't you want to play tonight?"

She looked at me like a puzzle piece had just clicked in her brain. The look on her eyes reflected both shock and relief, and I only smiled.

"Because I . . . I want you to be there," she said. It was comforting to see her in the sun – in daylight, alive, with no sign of danger anywhere that would take her away from me. That moment Nova was in front of me and she was breathing and I could just hold her. It would mean the entire world to me.

Nova and I, from this point forward, can have the chance to relive all the good moments we had in the time-loop. We could have so many overnights, hidden kisses, late night conversations, singing together, dreaming together, but before that there should be something that would start it. A starting point – a beginning.

That starting point – the prologue, the beginning, it could be something as simple as a love confession. In a burning house, in a gig, in a drinking session after your bassist crush asks you if you liked girls – literally anytime could be a good time to confess. Confess now or else, you could get the universe so mad it would put you in a time-loop where your crush continuously dies until you've grown out of your stubbornness.

It's your choice.

Nova gazed at me expectantly. I've seen her standing in front of my bedroom window in several timelines, in that same, familiar silhouette, but I have never seen her stand there with the sunlight behind her hair instead of the moon's gentle glow. I wonder what she'd dreamt about, how extreme it was that she had to get out of bed to rush to my bedroom window. But it's fine.

I already have an idea.

"Wait . . ." Nova squinted her eyes behind me. "Is that . . . a cut out of my face on your desk right there?"

"Fuck!" I said, frantically running to my bed to hide her photo on my desk. I crumpled the picture of her face under my bed, and I looked at her, my face hot and burning, but in her face was just this same, mischievous smile I'd seen over a hundred times.

Despite the situation, I had the heart to think that that face of her was what kept me going through hellish time-loops. And yes. Yes, it was worth it.

"Wow, Miss Cheerleader," Nova said, laughing. "Did you just curse?"

♫