t w e n t y - t h r e e : hewey and dewey

Shawn's POV:

"Did you really have to hit her?", I ask with my arms crossed. Rochel can get a bad temper, and she's pretty controlling. Now, I don't like to be controlled, but it's hot when she does it.

She just grunts in response.

"Why did you kiss her?", she frowns. She's staring holes into my soul. This is why I don't do relationships. I shouldn't have to explain what I do, why I do it, and who I do it with! We're not exclusive for a reason. She knows that.

"She kissed me", I reply with a shrug. Kara kissed me. I don't know what to make of that.

"Well, you didn't seem repulsed by it--at all!", she barks. Calm the fuck down.

I just shrug again. What does she expect, an apology?

"Get in the car", I point to the passenger side door. She huffs and gets in.

I head to her house, and I plan to go straight to bed when I get to mine. Kara and I have a long day tomorrow.

"Why are we going this way?", she asks, annoyed.

"To your house?", I ask sardonically. "Because that's where you live".

She rolls her eyes, "I thought we would", she nods her head suggestively, "you know". No, I don't know.

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen".

"What?!", she screams. Then she demands I have sex with her. What type of shit is this. Another thing I hate about the New World: females' audacity. Like is she serious? So I drop her off at her house and speed off before she can get another word out.

It's late, I'm covered in chlorine, and it's been a pretty dramatic day. I'm tired. Why couldn't she understand that.

Most people will just say it's in her nature--I should just relax. But it's violating as fuck.

After showering and finally placing my head on my pillow, I look for my old diary. It's probably buried underneath all this fucking clutter I have. The line of condoms reminds me of last night. I chuckle. She's so naive sometimes, it's funny.

But underneath the socks and gum wrappers, I don't see it. I scoot everything to the back to see the bottom of the drawer from the front, and vice versa. It's not here. Maybe I moved it?

I haven't written in that thing since freshman year. I kinda want to walk down memory lane, though, just for laughs.

Whatever, I'm too tired to check the closet.

The Next Day

Kara's POV:

It's slightly red, but fixable: the big ass mark that girl left on my cheek. What the fuck was her problem? I hadn't done a thing to her. Wait. Is she one of Shawn's "flings". I cringe at the thought. Eww.

But I thought he didn't do relationships. So why the hell was she so aggravated. More importantly, why the hell had I kissed him. I'm so gonna regret this--I already am. It was nice, though--short-lived and nice. I really don't know what this means. Do I want him to acknowledge it, or to just act like nothing happened? Act like nothing happened. That's the way to go.

I put some foundation over the mark. This better not scar because I hate wearing makeup.

I remember we have a meeting today. The travelers will be there. It feels more real--what we're planning to do.

I've looked for the book. Twice, actually. Once last night and once earlier this morning. It's not here, and I truly don't know what to do next. Should I fess up to the theft? Or just leave it alone, hoping the book was insignificant to him?

Just then, my phone rings. I hear the ringing sound but where the hell is it? Have I lost it in the process of tossing my room?

I find it and answer. It's Tiana.

"Hey girl, I—," I start.

"Looking for something?," she asks; and she sounds a little smug. Could she be talking about...? No way.

"Yeah, my fucking mind," I joke.

"No, I mean something specific," she continues.

"Umm, I—"

"The book, dumbass. The book," she snaps.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I shrug as if she could see me.

"The diary. Shawn's diary," she replies.

"I'm not sure—Do you seriously think someone like him writes in a diary?," I chuckle nervously.

"I don't assume," she snaps. Oh.

"Did you steal it from my bag?," I give up acting clueless.

"Maybe. Did you steal it from him?"

"Maybe. He doesn't know. Just bring it back to my house later."

"No. You have to do something for me first."

"What?," I sigh.

"Set me up with him."

"What?!," I exclaim.

"I want a date with Shawn," she reaffirms.

"He doesn't—"

"Hmm?," she hums.

"I don't know if you're delusional or just... you know what, I just don't know," I seethe. This really isn't the way to treat someone who has something on me, but she's my friend. She'll give up the bullshit and return the book. Or I mean, give it to me, then I can return the book.

"Set me up with Shawn, or I will tell him about how you stalked him and stole his diary."

Fucking bitch.

"Why are you doing this?," I whine.

"I'm not repeating myself. I better have a date by Friday." She hangs up. What a predicament I've gotten myself into. I know I shouldn't have taken that damn book!

The phone rings again: that familiar number. I still haven't changed his username.

"Hey," I say lowly.

"What's wrong?," he snaps. He knew me best.

"No-Nothing," I stutter, making it worse. Soon, the tears start coming down. I can't help it. I cry when in duress.

"I can tell when you're crying, Kare," he sighs, "Just tell me what's wrong. I bet I can make you feel better." I doubt it. I'm in deep shit. Wait, why is he even talking to me? Did he not see what I did last night?

"I swear it's nothing. Just my daily cry," I say quickly, "Anyway, you called me, so..."

"Right," he clicks his tongue, "Our date."

"Non-date," I interject.

"Non-date, whatever," he sighs, "Friday, at 8. We're going to the movies. I'll pick you up."

"I can drive myself," I snap. I didn't mean to snap. I'm just stressed.

"Okay. Meet you there, I guess."

"Yeah, bye." I hang up.

Now, I have to look in my closet for something that matches the dress code so I never have to wear Shawn's clothes again, because honestly they look horrendous on me.

I change into a blue sweatshirt and some blue cutoffs. At least I look presentable.

I drive the normal way to Jack's house, but instead of turning, I stay straight until I see the apartment building. I remember the first night here. It wasn't so long ago, but my mindset was very different back then. I wanted a fun summer with friends, family, and my boyfriend. Only two of those remain the same; one is pending. Now, I'm... different. I can't stand the sight of my friends... I mean Tiana.

A bunch of people surround the entrance. I feel so out of place. I came on my own... Shawn! I forgot to tell him I would drive myself. He's already inside. I see him shaking hands and conversing with other members.

I sneak in through the crowd, and eventually slide behind him.

"Boo!," I whisper yell.

"Ahh! I'm so scared," he feigns fear.

I just chuckle. Okay. We're not talking about last night. Phew.

"Want a pamphlet?," he holds one out.

"Do I have a choice?"

"No."

"Fine," I roll my eyes.

He talks with Andrew and some other guys our age when Mr. Grayson calls everyone to the center.

"Hello, everyone! It's a beautiful summer day, and I have excellent news for you all! Our mighty travelers are here once again to demonstrate time travel for us!"

Wow. Moment of truth.

Then, that guy from that day I hid behind the plant comes into the center.

I poke Shawn, "What's his name?"

"Hmm?," he hums softly, "Oh him? That's Greg. He's weird as hell."

I shove him, "Don't be mean."

"What? I'm stating the truth. He's weird and definitely slow. Not medically, just slow on purpose. I don't know. All I know is it physically hurts to have a conversation with him."

"Hmm," I hum and shrug.

"Hello, everyone. I'm Greg," he starts.

"We fucking know," Shawn sighs loudly. The overwhelming silence really does embolden the sound of his sharp breath.

Some people shift in their seats. It's so embarrassing. I shove him again.

"These three are John, Hewey, and Dewey," he says nonchalantly.

I can't help it. I guffaw in the loudest way possible. Shawn has to cup his hand over my mouth, and even then, the vibrations cut straight through.

Thankfully, as the three travelers are introduced, people stand and applaud.

Shawn and I are just caught in an embrace, criss-crossed on the floor. It's not a comfortable embrace. His hand is forbidding me from erupting in boisterous laughter, and the other is holding me still.

As my mouth is covered, we share a knowing look, acknowledging the hilarity in this.

"Who the hell is named Hewey or Dewey. What the fuck?," he giggles. It just makes me laugh harder, but sensing a scream, he covers it tightly. I tend to scream when something is truly funny, and this is.

Once Greg announced them, I pictured this vintage cartoon with ducks that had the same names. I swear the only thing keeping me quiet is his hand. Why is this so funny?

I finally pull his hand down as they start their introductions. "We should really take them seriously," I whisper.

"Can we really?," he giggles. "Eww, you spit on my hand," he wipes his palm on my sweatshirt.

"That's what you get," I reply in a childish tone. He just rolls his eyes. "Now, pay attention," I point.

"Yes, we know our names sound weird," Hewey says, "But let's focus on the point. If you all will follow us downstairs, we'll begin the demonstration."

In unison, everyone rises, following the three travelers. While heading downstairs, I spot the large time travelling device. It's like a shower, but not in a bathroom. Like we're in a home improvement store, observing showers. But we're not. We're in the basement of an abandoned apartment.

"Alright," Dewey says, "This here is the portal or time capsule, whatever you want to call it. You could just call it a shower." This arouses light laughter from the crowd, mostly those over 30.

Shawn just stares blankly. His moments of genuine laughter are few and far between. "Anyway," John interjects, "We will be showing you that time travel is real."

"Yes, that is the base level of understanding for this demonstration," Hewey says. Sounds a little passive aggressive, if you ask me.

John and Hewey enter a little tension-filled staring match, and Dewey picks up a remote control like device.

"This," he raises his voice to avert the attention to himself, "is the device that can take us back and forth in time. It changes the weather, time, and place of arrival. We've spent years creating this device, speeding up the process when news of the Reversal first came out. We were prepared for this. However, we shielded our possession from the world so that the government could not get their hands on it."

"And now," Hewey inserts himself, "We will go back to 2016 in New York City, and pick up a paper for proof."

John nods. Maybe he's a benefactor?

"Enough talk, time to show what our device can do," John says. Hewey shoots him dirty looks. I bet he's the brains and John is the partner they reluctantly had to bring along.

Within seconds they disappear into thin air after John clicks a button.

I look around us. If this is a magic trick or some bullshit, I swear...

"You okay?"

"Huh?," I ask, confused.

"You seem anxious. Calm down," he says. Does he know that that doesn't help?

"Sure, I'll just simply calm down," I say sarcastically.

"Right. What I said."

I roll my eyes.

With a slight zipping sound, the three men arrive promptly with a large newspaper. They walk around the basement with the paper, displaying it for all to see.

"June 4th, 2016," it reads.

It's the beginning of the end.