The first tip-off to something being completely and utterly wrong–besides the obvious–was when Espy's mother yelled at her for letting Scottie stay the night.

"But, mom, it's Scottie!"

"I can see that, Esperanza. I have eyes."

Espy searched her brains for the right words to respond to her mother's words, but she kept coming up short. "But... but... he's alive, Mom!"

"Yes. He is. What is your point? You cannot let boys sleep over here! Especially without telling me first!"

"Mom-"

"Ni una palabra más. Prepararse para la escuela."

Espy stared at her mother in astonishment. She gave Espy one last glare, then left the two alone in the living room. "I thought my mom would be a bit more understanding."

"Yeah, me too," Scottie replied, sharing Espy's confusion.

"We don't have to go to school, Scottie. We can just go to the park or something."

Scottie shook his head and stood up. "I'm fine, Espy."

"But-"

"Please, Espy. Do this for me."

The second–and third, fourth, fifth, and a thousand more–tip-off was when Scottie was able to walk through the school hallways without so much as a stray glance. Scottie knew most of the people around the school, so looks in his direction weren't uncommon. They got some nods from acquaintances and of course the random strangers making eye contact, but nothing that read "whoa this guy rose from the dead this is so weird."

Espy and Scottie searched for something, anything that hinted that they weren't going crazy, but they were met with nothing. The only thing out of the ordinary in the first half of their day was that instead of Scottie's usual teacher, it was a substitute that let them all do whatever they wanted. To be fair, it's difficult to leave lesson plans for an art class, and even harder to teach an art class if you don't even know how to draw a stick figure correctly–something Scottie learned when the substitute drew one next to his name on the white board. Somehow, he managed to give himself a longer neck than arms.

The class commented more about that slip up than the fact that Scottie was in the same classroom as them, very much alive.

For lunch, Scottie and Espy made their way outside to the courtyard. They found an empty bench, ignoring the sting of cold metal against their exposed necks. Espy adjusted her striped jacket, and Scottie put his hands into his pockets. There were hardly any people around, considering how cold it was. It was perfect.

"How's your day?" Espy asked.

"Normal," responded Scottie.

"Yeah, mine too."

Before Scottie could say anything else, a voice shouted from their side. "Prescott! You're okay!" Scottie shot around to face a girl with ginger hair and a clashing yellow sweater practically skipping towards the two. Scottie recognized her as Elisabeth, a girl from one of his classes a few years back. Pure shock laced her face.

"You... did you think that something happened?" Scottie started.

"I mean, I thought... you were at the watch party, right?"

"Yeah." Scottie took care to tread cautiously with the conversation.

"I thought you had gotten into a fight or something."

"Well, yeah, I did."

"I guess I thought... nevermind, I could barely see anything anyways! I was all the way by the bathrooms, I practically only saw peoples' heads!" Despite Elisabeth's outwardly bubbly demeanor, Scottie could sense a bit of uncertainty behind her words. "Glad all is good!"

And with that, she skipped away to who knows where.

"Is this a prank or something?" Scottie whispered to Espy. "Like, the entire school goes around like normal, doesn't seem to remember a thing, then one random girl seems to remember?"

"Did you know her?"

"Barely. We had, like, one class together one time."

"Well, what did your family say?"

That morning, he had woken up in his own bed. He didn't remember when or how he had gotten there. The last thing he remembered was feeling the sharp penetration of glass in the soft spot that was his temple. Deep down, he knew what had happened was 100% real, but he still wanted to be sure. He left through his back door and ran straight to Espy's. He hadn't even seen his parents.

Scottie pulled out his phone. He had one missed call from his grandpa. Nothing from his parents.

"Nothing," answered Scottie quietly. He moved his attention from the phone to her eyes. "Did you see them there? Last night?"

Espy broke eye contact. She tried not to think of what happened after that, but it didn't leave her mind. She hadn't heard a word of what they said, but the image was burned into her brain.

"Your, uh, your parents were there, yeah."

"What did they say?"

"I'm not sure. It was all really loud."

"My grandpa?"

She fought back tears, but her voice exposed it anyways. "He was there."

"Were they okay?"

He didn't need to know. "You were dead, Scottie." She wiped a tear from her eye. "Of course they weren't okay." She looked around at the students passing them and held back any more tears that may escape.

Scottie grabbed Espy's hand. "How about your family?"

Espy thought for a moment. "My parents were there. They, um, they talked to the police a lot. And I think they said something about my sister coming down to see me. But who knows if she is now." She paused. "I don't remember much, Scottie. It was a lot."

Scottie squeezed her hand. "Hopefully we don't have to think about it much more."

"Yeah, hopefully."

"I'm not trying to, like, change the subject, but I'm starving."

Espy's eyes widened. "Holy shit, yeah."

Espy and Scottie stood up from the freezing metal bench, and with their hands interlocked, walked towards the cafeteria to eat a meal they had previously thought would never come.

***

"And then, it stabbed straight through his head!"

"Sounds nasty."

"It was!"

"Not in a good way."

"Well it's not like it was real!"

Ford threw some of the french fries from his tray into his mouth. Luca picked at his pasta, not actually putting any in his mouth. Liam took a sip from his gatorade. "I'm glad I didn't go," he said. "That movie sounded dumb anyways."

"But come on, that death was awesome! The cop was even twitching afterwards. Like, that shit is nasty!"

"That's what I said."

"But good nasty!"

"What did you do after, Ford?" asked Reggie curiously. She bit out of an apple she had just unwrapped.

Ford laughed. Reggie wasn't sure what was funny about her question. "Lilith had an after party. It wasn't like a big thing, just a few of us. Rosita brought beer, but I was the designated driver. Them, on the other hand..." Ford laughed again.

"Was Des there?" asked Liam.

"No, there weren't any guys there."

"He was at work right?" Jennifer Fitzgerald, or Fitz, as Reggie called her, asked. "He probably just blacked out afterwards or something. You haven't heard from him, right?"

Luca shook his head, and the rest of the table signaled no. If it was someone like Ford, they wouldn't be surprised that he was missing a day of school–his immune system was not the best–but Des rarely missed school. Even if he did miss school, he usually always let his friends know. And as far as the group knew, Adam hadn't heard anything from Des, despite calling him basically every day.

The five of them weren't the closest to Des, some of them didn't even consider him a friend, but a team was a team. And when one person acts out of the ordinary, it's enough to cause concern with all of them.

Especially when the night prior someone had been brutally attacked and murdered. Though, of course, only one of them actually recalled what happened at the movie theater.

"He better be back by Monday, that's all I'm saying." said Liam, downing the rest of his gatorade. Reggie wasn't sure how her brother could tolerate the yellow flavor in such large amounts. "We'll be crushed if he doesn't show."

"We got Jorge."

"And they've got Holland, Arden, Skylar-"

"Did you go to the movie?" she asked towards Luca, changing the subject.

Luca broke out of his daze. "Huh?"

"Did you go to the movies last night?"

"Oh. No, no I didn't."

"So it was just Ford?"

"Yeah..." replied Fitz. "Why do you care? You didn't even go, right?"

Reggie shook her head quickly. "No, I didn't. I just heard things."

She didn't mention to them that what she had heard was from Ford himself. A call that didn't show itself in the call logs of neither Ford nor her own phone. A call that Ford had no recollection of.

***

Going back.

Pro: I can get an idea of what's going on.

Con: If I'm wrong, I'm fucked.

The conversation played over and over in Des' mind. The answer was obvious. Until he went back to the other side and reconsidered.

Des slammed his head back against his headboard. I'm fucked either way.

A knock on his window stopped him from banging his head once more. Des shot up in his seat and looked towards the source. The waitress from earlier was staring at Des with an even more exhausted expression than earlier. But this time, it was mixed with frustration. He could make out her name tag: Louise. Des rolled down his window.

"May we help you?"

Des shook his head. "No, I'm good. I'm doing well."

She raised her eyebrows. "You can't stay here all day, sir. We close in an hour."

"It's noon."

"It's a breakfast diner, what did you expect?"

"The Waffle House is open later."

"Do we look like a Waffle House, sir?"

Des shut his mouth. He shifted his keys into the ignition, and Louise gave him one last sigh before turning around and entering through the front doors. As soon as she was inside, Des slapped his steering wheel. He was going to have to choose, and choose soon.

A buzz against Des' side shifted his focus from his thoughts. The caller ID read "Regina." Des had gotten tons of calls from people, especially Adam, who was probably surprised when he didn't meet up with him in the morning, his parents, even Ford. But he didn't expect Regina to call him, of all people. Not just that she wasn't one for calling, but they rarely ever talked. It had to mean something.

Des picked up the phone warily. "Regina?"

"It's Reggie," the voice said from the other line. He wasn't sure if it was just the quality of the long distance phone call or what, but her voice seemed to be shaking. "Des, where were you last night?"

Des froze. His phone trembled in his hands. He had already answered. By answering, he made himself obligated to answer the question. Not doing so would raise more questions. Though he wanted nothing else more than to not answer that simple question.

"Des? Are you still there?"

Des opened his mouth, but nothing came out. "I was at work," he managed.

"So you didn't go to the movie?"

"What is this, an interrogation?" Des asked, trying his best to sound playful when in reality his leg shook waiting for the answer.

"Des answer me, did you go to the goddamn movie?" Her voice was sharp and honestly frightening.

"No."

"Did anyone tell you what happened last night at the movies?"

Des straightened his posture. "No, I didn't talk to anyone last night." He could hear her sigh through the phone. "Why, what happened?"

There was silence on the other end. "Reggie, tell me what the fuck happened."

It was a moment before any sound came out of the phone. "This kid, Julian I think, attacked one of the juniors. Prescott Greenway."

"Yeah, I know him."

"And, uh, he died."

Des' throat went dry. "T-the kid or..."

"Prescott." The two sat wordlessly. Des brought his other clenched hand to his lips and started chewing on his index finger.

He had died. He was attacked. What were the-

"Prescott was at school today."

Des almost dropped his phone. "He was what?"

"Prescott showed up to school today. Unharmed. So did the kid that attacked him. But that's not even the weird part."

How could it get any weirder than that?

"Everybody seemed to have forgotten. Nobody batted an eye. Even Ford, and he was the one that told me all this shit."

Nobody remembered.

He died.

But he was alive.

"Des, I know I didn't fall asleep. I know I didn't dream this. It was real. The police cars were there, ambulances, they pulled away his body. I saw the news. Prescott was dead, and Julian was in custody."

"Reggie, do you know where Prescott lives?"

"Why would I know that?"

"Do you at least have his number or something? How about his girlfriend?"

"I think I have Esperanza's. Des, do you hear what I'm saying?"

"Yes, Reggie, and I believe you. This is important. Please."

Des heard the unzipping of her backpack and the flipping of paper. Reggie read off the numbers and Des desperately scribbled them on his hand. He thanked her and abruptly switched off the phone.

The numbers on the back of Des' left palm shone into his eyes. He dialed them into his phone, and hesitated before pressing the call button. He shook his leg in anticipation.

The ringing seemed to go on for hours before he heard the voice. "Hello?"

"Hi, is this Esperanza?"

"Who is this?"

"Hey, this is Desmond Ross. We go to the same school."

She paused. "The track guy?"

"Yeah, the track guy. Are you with Prescott?"

"Why?"

"I need to talk to him."

"Whatever you have to say to him, you can say to me."

"Fine. I know what happened last night, and I believe you. It happened to me, too."