19. The Conclusion

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"Ahhhh," I whisper-groan, reaching up to massage the back of my head as I lift it from my arms. I squint into a mass of green, music with so much bass that each pulse seems to make the air shimmer, and lots of drunk college students.

My eyes snap to the back of the bar. Amy serves other customers, but I see her eyes cut to me between each one.

Finally, she sidles over to me. "Are you okay?"

It's not the first time she's asked me that here, but this time it carries a different undertone. Like she genuinely doesn't know the answer.

"Am I dead?" I ask.

She shakes her head slowly, almost warily.

"You remember me," I state. It's not a question. I know she knows. I know she's been with me on this whole journey, watching from the sidelines. No, not the sidelines. She's in the game. She's the one who kicked it off.

"I've never seen you before in my life," she says calmly—only her eyes, flicking over my head to scan the other patrons, betray her.

"Amy," I call as she turns away, and she freezes. "Amy, I know the truth. The Star Trek? The always ending up in this town? Trading shots for information? You remember all of it."

She refuses to meet my gaze, but she doesn't try to refute my claim, either.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I ask.

But the answer comes to me on its own, her voice from the past echoing in my head. Sometimes people have to figure things out for themselves.

"I figured it out," I say desperately, almost begging. "Nessa and I aren't meant to be. And that's okay. I'm okay with that."

She finally looks up from the floor, and I feel a little pull—like if gravity wasn't anchoring me to the floor, I might just fly over the bar toward her.

"And Cam," I add. "This town has grown more than just intolerance. It made him, it made you. And I guess it made me, in a way."

Something suddenly diverts Amy's attention, and when I turn around, there he is. Connor, standing aimlessly by the door.

I heave a giant sigh. "I have to do it, don't I?" I ask Amy. "I have to do everything exactly the way I did it before."

When I turn back around, she's busy at the other end of the bar, but I imagine her answer would be silence.

I suppose it wouldn't have been right to leave Connor and Nessa the way they'd been on the last round. Full of doubt. Connor would have questioned every day of his life, since he apparently didn't believe me when I said I was over it.

There was never really anything wrong with the way they met in the first place. Besides the fact that it was awkward as hell. And it's still awkward as hell to think about doing it again, but I have to.

"Hey," I say as Amy passes me again. "I think I might need to be drunk for this."

She has a drink in my hand in seconds. It's green, just like it was the first night.

"Better hurry," she comments before disappearing again.

"Excuse me," Connor's voice comes from behind me. "Is this seat taken?"

I cast another glance toward Amy, standing a few seats over behind the bar, and then give him my best smile. I shake my head, and he sits down beside me in all his paper-shamrock-and-plastic-tiara-clad glory.

He looks a little lost, and I remember that he was actually the one that took the shot. Are we both aware now? My first time through I thought it was just a dream, so maybe he hasn't jumped to the whole time travel conclusion yet.

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