Page 35 of Time Loops & Meet Cutes
It stressed me the fuck out.
I swore that when I grew up, I’d be better at saving and living below my means, so my finances wouldn’t cause such stress—and I’d be able to help my immediate family without sleepless nights. Though if my siblings ended up being as foolish as my uncle—which I highly doubted—I had no intention of repeatedly assisting them.
Housing prices in Toronto have skyrocketed and I still haven’t bought a place of my own, but I hope to within the next five years. I’m careful to put aside a decent amount each month. I don’t own a car. I don’t travel a lot. I don’t go out much. I’m frugal when it comes to my wardrobe. I’ve lived in the same small one-bedroom apartment for eight years, and the rent isn’t terrible.
My repeats of June 20 have been a little different, though, and when we get to New York, I continue to spend money that I wouldn’t normally spend. Even a modest hotel in Manhattan isn’t cheap, especially with the exchange rate. Once we’ve checked in, Avery wants to see the Empire State Building, and we pay to go up and look out at the city. Luckily, June 20 is quite a nice day in New York. Hot, but not completely disgusting, and with the clear skies, we have a good view as we stand among all the other tourists.
By the time we finish with the Empire State Building, it’s almost dinnertime. The flight—and getting into the city from Newark—took much of the afternoon. We see Times Square on the way to Central Park, where we wander around before deciding that food really is a necessity.
“What do you want to eat?” I ask Avery.
There’s a dizzying array of possibilities, but we end up justgetting cheap pizza on paper plates. We eat in the park, entertained by a man playing a saxophone, and then we mosey down the streets.
“You know what we should do?” Avery says. “The next time we come here—”
“The next time?”
“Yeah. I have a feeling this isn’t going to break the loop, which means we can come back for free and buy expensive last-minute Broadway tickets. I think it’s too late for that today.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“If I knew how much longer the loop would last, it would be easier to enjoy. Like, another twenty or thirty days? Fine. I’d spend it watching shows and eating good food and trying different hair colors. But when you worry it might go on forever, it’s hard to live in the moment.”
“I agree.”
“But I’ll try,” she says, lifting her chin. “For tonight.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Top of the Rock, so we can see the city at night?”
We go up our second skyscraper of the day, and as we look out at the glittering lights, I feel tiny and insignificant. Toronto is a large city too, but it’s been a long time since I’ve seen it from up high; I haven’t been up the CN Tower in over a decade.
Yet of all those people, I’m the one who’s stuck in a loop, remembering repeats of June 20 that no one else but Avery seems to recall. Are there others out there that we haven’t been able to find? Is our time loop unimportant, in the grand scheme of things? Does stuff like this happen regularly and we just don’t know about it?
I feel like I don’t have the answers to anything.
Afterward, we have cocktails at a rooftop bar. Then I convince Avery to order cake at a late-night café—it’s her birthday, after all. Once we’ve split a large piece of salted caramel cheesecake, we return to the hotel and collapse into our beds.
When I wake up, I’m back in my apartment.
14Noelle
June 20, Version 54-ish
The June 20 after our trip to New York, I’m well rested, despite the fact that yesterday was very busy. Still, I decide to have a leisurely day: I rebuy the ebook that I was reading on the plane and finish it with my morning coffee, absently thinking that while it was annoying not to have more time in New York, it was nice to only have to deal with the airport once.
By midafternoon, however, I feel the need to get out, and I find myself heading to Leaside Brewing. When I step inside, Cam and his colleague are singing a sea shanty once again, though it’s a different one from last time—I assume that’s because I’m a few minutes later.
“Hey.” Cam smiles at me. “Have we met before? You look really, really familiar, but I can’t recall your name.”
I tamp down a prickle of irritation. “You’re Cam, right? Cameron?”
Our conversation proceeds the same way it did last time, and my annoyance fades. This is rather comforting, actually. I’m reliving a good day; I bet many people wish they had the ability to do that. I don’t recall the exact words I said, so there are littledifferences here and there, but it’s more or less the same, until he asks what heiresses like to drink.
“We usually go for wine,” I say. “Preferably ones that cost at least two hundred a bottle. I’m open to trying something new, but I don’t know much about beer.”
“Hm.” He picks up a small glass and pours me something. “Try this.”
