I open my eyes when I hear drawers creaking open and thudding shut. Regina sits at the end of the bed with her back to me, bending to slide her socks on.

"Hey," I say, my voice groggy. My beads clack against each other as I sit up against the headboard. She looks at me over her shoulder and furrows her thin eyebrows as her hazel eyes drag up and down my face.

"Hi," she drags the word, then turns away from me. I lift my arms over my head and intertwine my fingers. I stretch my muscles to release the bits of exhaustion, and a sharp pain spreads from shoulder to shoulder. My thighs and stomach hurt too, but I know it's because of the long day I had yesterday.

I glance at the calendar near her dresser, and my eyes widen when I see an X over yesterday's date. I know that it's Saturday, and I was aware that today would be the day that Keenan and I finally head back to 2023, but now that today's the day, it feels strange.

I'll be leaving this family and Troy. Keenan will leave behind his fake family and Toni-good riddance to her, though. I often see her around school, cutting her eyes at me when we're passing in the halls. One time, I saw her glaring at me at our lockers, and I had to hold myself back from slamming her head against one of the doors or shutting her hair in her locker.

Overall, I'll miss Regina the most; she eventually grew to be the sister I never had.

I swallow my feelings and shake my head free of the sad thoughts right when she stands up.

"Alright, I'm 'bout to head out," she says while turning to face me.

"Like hell you are." We flinch at the sound of Dad's voice, the blanket falling onto my lap. I lean on my hip to stare past her, and she veers her big eyes over her shoulder. "Did I or did I not say you're grounded until further notice?"

"I was literally just gonna go for a run," she tells him in a flat, nonchalant way. He scrunches up his face. "Dad, you won't even let me go to practice anymore. Can I at least exercise?"

"You better do some push-ups," he says with raised eyebrows. He flexes his fingers around his robe's belt, then yanks it tighter like a karate instructor. She kisses her teeth as she rolls her eyes onto the floor, crossing her arms. He directs his anger at me. "And you-what're you doing in her room?"

"I was just," I stutter, my eyes refusing to dim. It's jarring seeing how far he's changed from the man who tucked me in, who sat me on his lap when his wife gave me the cold shoulder, and who was constantly smiling. The darkness in his eyes makes him almost unrecognizable.

"She wanted to sleep in here with me because she was scared, Dad." We look at Regina, who's staring at her calendar. Her tone is sharp as usual.

He flares his nostrils like a bull at her attitude. He rests both of his thumbs, indexes, and middle fingers on his hips. She's been talking to him this way since last night, and I can tell it's getting to him.

When he opens his mouth and takes a breath to speak, I quickly say, "I was mostly afraid she'd run away again."

They're silent for a while, unmoving as if they didn't hear me. He flicks his eyes onto me, and she shuts hers. He blows air out of his nose with his mouth shut, then looks at Regina.

"Just like y'ah momma told me: your actions affect everyone." He points a finger at her while the other hand remains on his hip.

"Was she talking about me or you?" He drops his arms and blinks so hard his head jerks back. My heart skips a beat and I leap onto my feet. I spring to her side as he approaches. This can't be happening. Please don't fight again. "No, I'm done pretending like everything's fine when it's not," she says, raising her voice. I grab her hand and gently squeeze it to get her attention. She snaps her head toward me and scowls. "Get off me, Leila!"

"Please, I just think you should maybe calm down," I say under my breath while taking my hand off her. She scoffs as a smile forms, but her eyes become glossy.

"I should calm down," she repeats while letting her eyes drift onto the ceiling like she's thinking. I lick my lips. We're watching her from different sides of her body. "I should fucking calm down, because Leila says so and Leila knows best!"

Before my body can react with fear and shock by her loud and angry comment, he counters her in a higher volume. He yells, "Hey," and my heart stops beating for a second. Chills swarm my arms and legs like a colony of ants. My lips tingle, and for the first time in a while, I can't feel my heart. "Watch your mouth, 'Gina! I don't care how mad you get or whatever you feel, but you know better than to curse!"

Regina balls up her hands into fists and faces him. She screams, "I hate all of you! You people ruin my life!"

I bring two fingers to my neck and press down on my skin, my eyes bouncing between the father and daughter. The intensity in their stares and voices, how their chests rise and fall like the other person is hogging the air-it's all giving me a pounding headache.

Two doors open and shut, followed by quick footsteps. I lean over to look past them to see Mom and Michelle stepping into the room. They're in their pajamas with bonnets over their straightened hair.

"Joseph," Mom calls for him. His hands are relaxed at his sides, while Regina's are shaking in fists.

"What's going on?" Her eyebrows are drawn in and lowered, her eyes bouncing from one person to the next.

"Nothing, Michelle," Dad tells her while lifting a hand to his face. He pinches his nosebridge as he shuts his eyes, and Regina scoffs. "Your sister's in a mood."

"Of course, yeah," Regina says to no one in particular. She raises her arm, and it falls to her side, her palm slapping her leg. "I'm just in a mood, Michelle." She turns to her sister, whose expression hasn't changed. Mom glances at her oldest daughter, visibly confused too. Regina lifts her hands to gesture at them and yells, "Nothing to see here, everyone!"

He steps close to her, and Mom's eyes flare. I move my fingers around on my neck, feeling for a thump through the chaos. "Joseph, stop," she tells him. He grits his teeth so hard that his jaws are tense. Mom rushes between them and sets her hand on his chest. She gently nudges him while using her body to shield her shaking daughter. "I got her. Go and cool off."

He averts his black look to his wife, glances at his daughter one last time, then turns and walks to the door. Michelle steps aside with her head bowed and her eyes on her shoes like a dog in trouble.

When he enters the hall, she steps into the room with us and shuts the door behind herself. Her eyes are in my direction, but she's staring past me, most likely noticing the board over Regina's window.

Mom faces Regina, Michelle leans against the dresser with her arms folded, and I sit at the foot of the bed with my fingers on my neck.

"'Gina, what's wrong?" Her voice is soft and genuine, like it was before things changed in this family, before the effects of time-traveling took a toll on us. Regina's body contracts at the shoulders and she lets out a single whimper before giving into her emotions. Mom coos and pulls her into a hug, resting her chin on her daughter's head.

"I just want you and Dad to stop hating each other," she says through tears and hiccups. Her breaths hitch, but she's too upset to fix it. Even though her mom's arms are tight around her, her own dangle at her sides. "I just want things to go back to the way they used to be. I don't care if you get angry with him or he gets angry at you; I want you to stay together."

I bite my cheek to keep my lips from shaking. My jaw feels like those ants from before are gnawing under my ears, and my eyes burn like I kept them open for too long. Michelle takes a deep breath, but stays quiet this time.

Mom rubs Regina's back in one hand while the other cups her head to her chest.

"I know this decision is hard on you, 'Gina," Mom says without raising her voice to be heard over the sniffling and wailing.

"It doesn't have to be difficult, though." Mom verbally agrees with her, and Regina pulls her head back to look her in the eyes. "No, you don't understand. Parents fight all the time, but they stick together and get through it. I'm saying, even if things don't work out with you and Dad, wait until we're adults," she says, motioning her thumb between herself and me while only sparing me a glance. Tears run down her face and drip off her chin. Her eyes are red, and the tips of her lashes stick to her skin.

I pull my lips together and lower my head when Mom glances at me. She probably thinks this is all my fault, and I'm sure Michelle feels the same way. Days like this make me wish I'd have just punched Sara Matthews in the jaw instead of letting Keenan convince me to run away with him.

Mom doesn't say anything, and neither do we. Other than birds tweeting and dogs barking in the distance, it's otherwise quiet between us. Regina sniffles and wipes her face with the backs, then the palms of her hands.

"I wanna go for a jog." She's whining, but it doesn't seem to bother anyone. "Dad told me to just do push up." Michelle bites her lip and places her hand over her mouth to hide her smile. I narrow my eyes at her reaction.

"Go on ahead, 'Gina." She rubs her back until she walks toward the door. She left her shoes by the front door when we got in last night and is most likely gonna wear those instead of the sneakers near her closet.

I wanna go see Keenan, but I don't know where I stand in this family. I could ask in the most polite way possible and still be sent to my room. I swallow my nerves and take a deep breath. I need to get out of this house one way or another. Today's the day we leave, so I gotta speak to him.

"Can I go to Keenan's house?" I bite my cheek and pick at my short nails as Mom turns her eyes to mine. I stare into them, waiting for them to darken and for her to explode in a fit of rage like a volcano.

When she gives me a tiny smile, my heart feels like it drops into my stomach. I open my mouth and hold a breath in my chest to speak, but she says, "Go ahead, Leila." As I rush to the door, she tells me, "Don't forget to wash your face," and I crease the skin between my brows.

I lift a hand to my mouth and notice saliva against my fingertips. I wipe my cheek with my sleeve bunched in my fist and give her a thankful nod before ducking into my room.

***

"Can Keenan come out, please," I ask Aunt LaToya. She's dressed in sneakers and neon leggings under a black leotard. Her tapered pixie cut looks freshly trimmed and layered. She sets a hand on her hip and the other against the doorframe, making her lean at a slight angle.

"Aren't you the one who caused Teresa to chew me out about what I should and shouldn't allow my niece to do in my house," she sarcastically asks, emphasizing certain words. She narrows her eyes at me as she waits for a response.

Well, I'm no adult, but even I know you shouldn't give teenagers alcohol. My real parents would've had you thrown in jail; these people are weird.

I twist my mouth to the side and lower my head, not knowing how to answer.

"I'm guessing y'ah momma and daddy let you off punishment?" I lift my chin, but my eyes lock onto her leotard. I nod in response, and she removes her hand from the door frame to fold her arms. She leans her head over her shoulder and calls Keenan at the top of her lungs. Her rib cage presses through the tight clothes as she breathes in.

After a few moments of silence, I peek past her arm and see Keenan running down the hall in jeans and a plain t-shirt. He slows his steps and squints with his head tilted to see who's at the door, then his face drops when she steps aside.

"Leila, what do you want," he asks in an emotionless voice. He folds his arms and approaches when his mom returns to the living room.

I watch her do jumping jacks in front of her TV, then I lean in with my voice low to tell him, "I need to talk to you about the thing." Confused, he narrows his eyes and shakes his head. I lick my lips. "The shooting star thing that's happening tonight, doofus. Try to keep up."

"Don't make me slam this door in your face." I stand up straight and pull my lips into my mouth. "Actually, as a matter of fact, I think now's a good time to talk about the Troy situation."

I groan and roll my eyes so hard that floaters appear. I'm sick of him bringing up Troy every other day, but if it means he'll tell me when we're supposed to go home, I'll listen to rant number three hundred.