"Eyes on the road, moron!" Luciana "Lulu" Lukas shouted, squeezing her eyes shut as she braced for impact.
Thud.
For a split second, she felt it—the jarring sensation of something hitting her, the ground vanishing beneath her feet as the impact sent her flying. But instead of the crushing pain she expected… she felt softness.
'Since when was concrete so soft?'
Her fingers curled against something squishy. Cautiously, she wiggled her arms, then her legs. No pain. No broken bones. That didn't make sense. Her heart pounded as she forced her eyes open.
Unfamiliar surroundings met her—no, they were familiar ones.
She was supposed to be downtown, walking back to the office after lunch. But instead, she was here. In her bedroom.
Or at least, the bedroom she had two years ago.
Lulu's gaze darted around, her mind struggling to reconcile the impossible. The band poster above her bed? It had been trashed months ago after they disbanded. The overflowing laundry basket? Full of clothes she donated ages ago.
Her desk was its usual cluttered mess—half-used notebooks, tangled charging cables, a coffee mug with a dried ring of mystery liquid, and a stack of beauty products. One tube of lotion caught her attention. She knew that brand had been recalled for containing toxic metals. She'd thrown it out last year.
Slowly, she turned toward the large window. The collage of polaroids and concert tickets tacked to the wall was exactly as she had left it two years ago—including a certain photo.
Her stomach dropped.
'I definitely burned that picture!'
The memory was seared into her mind. After Jessie—that bitch!— slept with Mindy's boyfriend, Lulu had torched every single photo of her in an act of solidarity. But there it was, Jessie's grinning face staring back at her with both of their arms wrapped around each other.
Her breath hitched.
Sitting up abruptly, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror—large hazel eyes, messy long brown hair… and flawless, unmarked skin.
Panic clenched her chest as she yanked up her shirt, her fingers trembling as they ran over her right ribcage. No tattoo.
The Lily tattoo—a tribute to her deceased grandmother that she go last year—was gone.
Her vision swam.
'What. The. Hell.'
RING RING RING.
She jolted as a phone rang, the sound piercing through her frazzled mind and she reached for her phone—or her old phone, which should definitely be long gone.
She knew for a fact that this phone had been dropped into a public toilet and sacrificed to the plumbing gods over a year ago.
Yet, there it was, vibrating on her nightstand like it had never been lost. The number flashing on the screen was vaguely familiar, stirring a memory she couldn't quite place.
On autopilot, she answered.
"I WANT YOU OUT! PACK YOUR SHIT AND LEAVE!" a furious voice barked. "YOU ARE SIX MONTHS BEHIND ON YOUR RENT, AND THE LOCKS WILL BE CHANGED IN A WEEK!"
Beep. Beep.
The call ended.
Lulu sat frozen, staring at the screen. The number clicked into place. Her former landlord. The same one who had evicted her two years ago.
Her pulse pounded in her ears. Heart hammering, she checked the date at the top of her screen.
Thursday, March 20th.
Her breath stalled.
'That can't be right. It was September 16th. I was just at lunch. I—'
Dread crawled down her spine as she yanked open her calendar app, scrolled through her social media, checked the latest news—anything to prove she was imagining things.
But every notification, every post, every timestamp confirmed the impossible.
She sucked in a sharp breath.
"I've gone back in time."