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him making air quotations around the word “cool.”

“So are you implying that you’re not cool?” I hear my echo say.

He laughs. “Definitely cool. Not snobby.”

“Don’t worry, I can definitely tell by the skirt you’re wearing.” Was I… flirting?

“Excuse me, but this is, in fact, an apron, thank you very much.” More laughter.

“Oh, I see now. So you’re what, a waiter, or something?”

“Cook, actually. I work at Louis’s, a little diner off Main Street.”

“Is the food any good, then?”

“Only the best,” Maverick replies, that distinct tone of the smile I’d heard the night before still audible in his voice. “Come by some time and I’ll prove it.”

There’s a brief pause. Then my own voice, stumbling over words, “I’ll, uhh, have to do that then. Come by. The diner.” Even now, without remembering any of this, I feel a blush rising to my cheeks.

A soft chuckle comes from Maverick, followed by, “Sweet. I guess I should probably head to work now though, so I’ll see you around?”

“Definitely.” I hear my voice say.

Footsteps start to cross the street, towards the house with the yellow flowers. A few seconds later I hear the sound of my car door opening and closing, the engine cranking, and tires rolling out of the driveway.

I stand there in the present, my car sitting still cold in the driveway and my mouth hanging open. In my life, I’ve never even had the chance to think about boys at all, much less flirted with one. I have no recollection of this encounter, and I’m sure now that this is definitely not something I would forget about. Right?

I snap out of my thoughts as I hear Grace’s voice, loud, from the phone in my hand. I put it up to my ear, but have to pull it away as she yells, “Are you there?!”

“Yes, sorry, I… f-found something,” I stutter out as I quickly open my car door and pull out my backpack. I find a pile of papers and shuffle through them, shaking.

“I need to know, now!” Grace says, and I try to go faster, but as I do, half of the stack slides out of my hands onto the ground.

I kneel on the ground, moving papers around and searching frantically for Grace’s homework. The second I spot it, I lift the phone to my ear and say in a rush, “Yes, I have it, it’s right here, I’ll bring it, meet me in the parking lot. I gotta go, bye.” I hang up without letting her reply.

And then I’m there, on my knees beside the car with papers scattered around me, all alone, processing what I just heard. Maverick, again. No memory of it, again. I remember leaving extra early, but I don’t remember the conversation with Maverick. And it doesn’t make any sense.

✽✽✽✽✽

For the rest of the day, I’m on edge, making it hard for me to focus on my classes. I have no idea what to think of the strange events that have happened to me. The Suburban following me down the road, the encounters with Maverick I apparently had a year ago. It makes me wonder if they are connected. But how would they be? How can I be sure that the echoes of Maverick even actually happened?

Maybe something really is wrong with me.

But it can’t be true. I won’t admit that, not yet.

Then a thought strikes my mind: this morning, the echo of Maverick had mentioned working at Louise’s. The little diner on Main Street, about a mile away from St. Martin. I’ve never been there, but I’ve driven past it a few times. Maybe the workers would know about Maverick since he supposedly worked there?

I decide, then, that I need to go there. I need to find out for myself what is going on.

At lunch, Grace doesn’t take the news very well.

“You want to go where?” She asks with a look of disgust.

I hold her gaze firmly.

She blinks. “That place looks like a dumpster. It hasn’t had a new coat of paint since it was built—which was probably in 1905. Why in the world would you want to go there?”

I struggle to think of an answer. “I heard it’s good.” It sounds more like a question.

“From who?”

“My parents?” I bite my lip. I didn’t plan this out very well.

“So you’re telling me that you, Laura Jones, actually want to go out somewhere for once, and the one time you do you choose Louise’s Diner, of all the wonderful, delicious places we could have gone?”

I nod, biting my lip. Grace has begged me to go out and do things with her so many times. Half of them I come up with some excuse not to, and the other half I bail extra early. I didn’t know she’d been keeping track, though.

Grace shakes her head. “I don’t even know anyone who’s gone there! What if it’s terrible?”

“I’ve read some mixed reviews about that place, actually. But I’m down to try it out.” Leo chimes in.

Grace’s eyebrows scrunch upwards, giving me a look of desperation.

“Please go with us? For your best friends?”

She looks between me and Leo, then sighs. “Fine. But you owe me, okay?”

“Done.” I smile sympathetically. She rolls her eyes.

“If we get some kind of disease from this place, I demand that you do all of my homework for the next two weeks,” Leo says.

“Don’t say that! I just got Grace to agree to come!”

“It’s okay. If it looks super sketchy, I’m not even going to buy a drink,” she replies.

“It can’t be that bad,” I assure them both, though it doesn’t do much to assure myself.

✽✽✽✽✽

When we walk through the doors of Louise’s after school, the first thing I hear is a bustle of noise. Chatting, dishes clinking together,

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