Playful Pierce #3

The day after Terry was hospitalized by her boyfriend, Ashley began receiving emails from herself; from the future. The first one read:

Ashley,
It’s me: you. I’m you. Remember that time in 2nd grade when you borrowed one of Dad’s saint statues for show and tell, but dropped it on the way home and cut yourself trying to pick up all the pieces so you lied and said the neighbor’s pit-bull attacked you? We never told anyone else that.
You should know that there’s going to be a pop-quiz in your Cold War History class tomorrow on the Russian invasion of Afghanistan. The professor thinks that nobody does the assigned reading, so she’s going to try to surprise everyone. Be sure to read the footnotes.
-You

Ashley blinked a couple times and glanced at the clock. She was supposed to be getting a call from the boy she met in her political science class, but it was already 11:24. She reached into her bag, pulled out the text for history and cracked the spine open.

* * *

At lunch, Nikki asked how Ashley did on the quiz.

“Not too bad.”

“Better than me I’m sure.” Nikki said. “I’ve never opened that damn book.”

“I had some free time last night.”

“Trent didn’t call?”

Ashley shrugged her shoulders. She noticed Nikki had pizza sauce on the side of her mouth and pointed at it.

“Thanks,” Nikki said, licking the corners of her mouth before beginning on her third slice of pepperoni.

“Have you seen Terry yet?”

Nikki swallowed. “Not yet. I don’t know if I can. I heard she’s pretty messed up.”

“I think he pushed her down the stairs.”

“She was so pretty. And thin.” Nikki opened the container with the cheesecake inside. “He probably hit her before.”

“When?”

“I don’t know, but that kind of stuff always builds up, doesn’t it?” Nikki paused. “Plus, she had that bruise on her cheek a couple weeks ago. Remember?”

Ashley nodded. Terry had said she had slipped in the rain and fell on her face.

“I just can’t believe she stayed.” Nikki stood up and gathered everything on her tray.

“I don’t know. I might.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know.” Ashley dumped the rest of her salad in the trashcan. “If we had been dating a long time and he was really sorry, I think I could forgive someone.” Ashley noticed the bewildered look on Nikki’s face and added, “Once.”

“You’re crazy,” Nikki said.

Ashley waited for Nikki to refill her diet soda before they drove back to the apartment.

* * *

When she got home, Ashley checked her email and found another one from herself:

Hey,
Good job on the quiz. Have fun tonight and don’t worry about waking up early tomorrow. Your poli. sci. professor has the flu and is going to cancel at the last minute.
Later,
-Me

That night, Ashley rented three romantic comedies from the video store down the street and stayed awake until three in the morning watching them.

* * *

Ashley used her free day to visit Terry in the hospital. She had a neck brace and her left leg was in a cast elevated by a sling. Ashley mentally traced the stitching on Terry’s face from just below her right eye to underneath her nose.

“It’ll take about a week before they let me out of here.” Terry said. “They’re going to do the reconstructive stuff after they make sure I can walk.” Terry smiled and Ashley noticed that she was missing two of her lower teeth.

Ashley grimaced.

For a couple minutes neither of them said anything, before the silence was interrupted by a loud smack at the window. Ashley jumped.

“Sorry. I should’ve warned you about Jake.”

Ashley turned her head toward the window. A blackbird appeared on the windowsill before flying back to a tree a couple yards away.

“He keeps trying to get in here. The nurses can’t really do anything about it though.”

“Why do you call him Jake?”

“I named him after that really nice kid in high school. The one on the math club that kept asking me out even though I turned him down every time.” Terry sighed. “I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately.”

After a couple minutes, Ashley added, “We had a quiz in history.”

“Cool.”

Ashley watched Jake take off from the tree and collide head-on into the window again. “Crazy bird.”

“That’s the definition, right?” Terry said. “Repeating the same thing but expecting a different result?”

“Something like that.”

* * *

Trent called Ashley’s cellphone on the bus ride home.

“So you’re psychic right?” he asked.

“Who told you?” she said.

“I knew it. Tell me my fortune.”

“You’re going to graduate from college with a lame business degree and sell your soul to the corporate world.”

“As long as I’m rich.”

Ashley laughed.

“But honestly: how did you know?” he asked.

“Know what?”

“Political Science. The one day you don’t show up, class is cancelled.”

Ashley blushed.

“You still there?”

“Yeah, sorry.” An Indian man across the aisle gave her a puzzled look, so Ashley turned her body to the left and hunched over.

“Random question for you, how do you feel about live music?”

* * *

Ashley picked out a red low-cut shirt and skinny jeans, which she set on her bed. Before jumping in the shower she got online. Her inbox had one message, the last contact she ever made with her future self. The subject line was: Important! It read:

I have a favor to ask you.
Please do not go out with that guy tonight. Call him back and tell him that you’re sick or that there’s a family emergency or that you have a big test that you need to study for—anything to get out of it. It’s not going to work out. Please.
-Us

Before she left, Ashley sent a reply.

* * *

Ashley met Trent at a jazz club on 50th. He was inside waiting for her at a table near the back wearing a pinstriped suit.

“Suddenly I feel very underdressed,” she said, sliding into the booth next to him in view of the stage.

“Papa always told me that jazz is something to dress up for.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind for next time.”

“What makes you think there will be a next time?”

Ashley tapped her head. “Psychic, remember?”

“Of course.” Trent waved a hand at the waitress and ordered two martinis, extra dirty. “Your favorite, right?” He tilted his head toward Ashley after the waitress left. “I’m psychic too,” he whispered.

Ashley’s hands tightened their grip on her napkin. “Really?” she squeaked.

“Your friend Nikki and I have a math class together. I hope you don’t think I’m a stalker or something.”

“No, it’s cool.” Ashley sighed and plopped the napkin back on the table. She added, “How’d you get into all of this? Was it your dad?”

“Both my parents grew up in the Beat generation. ‘On The Road’ is practically the family bible.”

“I hope you don’t plan on abandoning me in Mexico.”

“In that case,” Trent pointed to the drink the waitress delivered, “You probably shouldn’t take a sip of that.”

Ashley slid the martini away from her, too fast, and a small amount sloshed over the side of the glass.

“I was just kidding.” Trent picked up the drink and took a sip. “See? Clean.”

Ashley forced a laugh.

“How much do you know about jazz anyway?”

“Just the instruments, saxophone, trumpet, piano, I’ve never really heard it live before.” Ashley braved a sip of her drink.

“It’s better live.”

“Why’s that?”

“Improvisation.” Trent fanned his hands out as if he was doing a magic act. “Jazz doesn’t really follow the rules for live music. Nothing’s rehearsed. The musicians just come in and play how they’re feeling. It sounds different each time. Sometimes it’s better, sometimes it’s worse, but it’s always interesting, fresh.”

Ashley nodded and downed the rest of her drink in one large gulp.

* * *

The first thing Ashley did when she got home was check her email. The reply letter she had sent bounced back to her, citing an error for a nonexistent address.

A year later she got an email from the past with two words: Why not?, but by then she already knew the answer.