Page 70 of The Second Chance Year

And Jacob.

I falter a little when I think of Jacob. Because maybe I do know what I want. The problem is that I’m terrified I figured it out too late. I turn back to the fortune teller. “What if what I want is gone? And I can’t get it back?”

“Well.” This time, all traces of annoyance are gone. Her gruff exterior has softened, face lined with compassion. “I guess you won’t make that mistake again.”

And with that, I know that she’s not going to look into her crystal ball, and I’ve used up all my wishes. I’m planted here, for better or for worse, on this day, in this year. I can choose to stay stuck, to keep looking back at yesterday, at what could have been. Or I can move forward.To tomorrow.

“Thanks,” I say, standing up and slowly making my way to the door.

The fortune teller clears her throat and hitches her chin at a glass jar on the table.TIPS, the sign says. I laugh for the first time in a long time and stuff a twenty into the jar.

“Good luck,” she calls to me as I make my way out of the tent and back onto the dance floor.

Without the thick drapery muting the sound, heavy bass from the dance music reverberates through me. I stand at the edge of the crowd as bodies kaleidoscope around me. Near the lion’s cage, I spot Kasumi taking a selfie with the sword-swallower, and I smile, making a mental note to like the photo on Instagram later. The strong man dances past in his red bodysuit and I give him a wave. He shakes his Styrofoambarbell at me and shimmies onward. And then, out across the dance floor, I spot another familiar face. It’s—

Paige.And she’s not alone.

She’s here with long-haired Brandon, the bike messenger. And byhere, I meanmaking out. And bylong-haired Brandon, I meannot Jacob.

Did Paige and Jacob break up?

I wade into the crowd until I reach them. And then, because her mouth is still attached to Brandon’s, I tap Paige on the shoulder.

“Hiiiiiii!” she says, whirling around and leaning in to give me a sloppy hug.

“Is Jacob here with you?” I yell over the thumping bass.

“What?” Paige tilts her head to the side, trying to hear me over the beat of the music. “No. Jacob is with Owen, I think.” She shrugs. “This is Brandon.”

“Hi, it’s so nice to meet you.” Brandon throws his arms around me, even though I’m pretty sure he has no idea who I am.

“So, you two are dating?” I wave my finger between them.

Paige nods happily.

“And you’re not dating Jacob anymore?”

She shakes her head.

“Okay.” That’s all I really need to know. “Good to see you, Paige,” I yell. She hugs me again.

With a wave, I turn and make my way toward the exit, my heart swirling like peanut butter through browniebatter. Somehow, Paige is dating Brandon. Which means that maybe… Jacob isn’t dating anyone?

Near the coat check I notice one of the bars scattered around the periphery of the warehouse, and… there’s that wave of déjà vu again… the line is short. In the same spot as my Very Bad Year, the Grey Goose and Absolut bottles are lined up on the shelf. I order a shot and carry it to a darkish corner where I have absolutely been before. Just like last time around, beanbag chairs and couches are scattered around on the floor and a few couples are talking or making out. Nobody even glances in my direction.

In one swift motion, I toss back the vodka, feeling the burn all the way down. And then, before I can lose my nerve, I dial my phone. It rings once, twice, three times, and—Oh come on, universe, I’m trying here. The least he can do is pick up.But he doesn’t pick up, and after three more rings, the voicemail clicks on, and Jacob’s voice comes through the line telling me to leave a message. I grip the phone tighter, aching from the sound of him, and when the phone beeps, I consider calling back, just to hear it again.

Instead, I start babbling.

“Jacob, it’s Sadie. I probably shouldn’t be calling you. I’ve messed a lot of things up this year. But I’m not sure I could live with myself if I didn’t tell you that… Well.” I take a deep breath and then blurt it out. “I-think-I’m-in-love-with-you.” I hesitate now because I’m not sure that’s quite right. “No. IknowI’m in love with you. And I’m sorry that I didn’t see it—didn’t seeyou—sooner. I wasted so much time. But for once in my life, I know exactly what I want, and it’s… you.” I pause again, running out of steam now and not sure what to say next. Howare you supposed to end a call when you’ve just confessed your love to someone’s voicemail? I really didn’t think this one through, but I guess I wouldn’t be me if I thought things through. Finally, I settle on an extremely awkward, “Okay. Well… Goodbye.” And then I hang up.

I close my eyes, but this time, no warm breeze blows through the warehouse, and there are no magical clouds of sensation. It’s just me, standing in a dank warehouse, hoping a boy will love me. Is it possible I could change my life, not by wishes and potions, but just by being… me?

The throbbing beat of dance music rattles me to my core, and I open my eyes slowly, adjusting to the darkness.

I take a deep breath in, and then—

I scream at the top of my lungs.

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