Kara I couldn't count how many times I didn't want to get up from my bed every time I woke up in the morning. Mostly I just shut my brain off and went through the motions. It helped when I didn't think of everything I had to do all day and I just focused on one thing at a time. Wake up, coffee, eat breakfast, get ready. Go to class, coffee, eat on the go, drive to work or do some errands, coffee, worry, do my assignments and review. Eat, shower, worry, go to bed. Repeat. But today was different. Today it wasn't just my body that ached. It was my heart. I wished I had enough money to move to another province, to another country, to another planet. Maybe the time machine would be invented in my lifetime and I just hoped I can afford to buy or rent one. If not, I could always just nab it. Would that still make me guilty of stealing the time machine if I jumped back to my past? That meant I hadn't stolen anything since the future didn't happen yet. Oh, the fun I could have. Already I could hear the sounds of my dad making breakfast in the kitchen. The thought of him working so hard was the reason I forced myself to move. I knew even after his work at the garage, he would take up some extra work for extra cash. Tonight he was supposed to paint the local gymnasium. If my supervisor at the nursing home didn't call me tonight, I'd help him out. I pushed myself up from the bed, stared at my phone. My brain wouldn't absorb whatever text I would read without my coffee so I ignored it and headed to the kitchen. "Good morning, sweetheart," my dad greeted as I sat at the kitchen island. "Here you go." I grabbed the coffee he handed me, sipped, breathed it in, sipped some more. "Cereal or toast?" he asked, like he did every morning because that was all my stomach could take in the morning. "Toast, please," I mumbled, my face in my coffee. "Coming right up. So," my dad began as soon as he placed the toast in front of me and topped off my coffee. "How's my favorite daughter?" "I'm your only daughter." "I think in another dimension I probably have ten daughters," he said, wiping the counter. "But you'd be my favorite." I am my father's daughter through and through. "I was just thinking of buying a time machine." My dad's eyes sparkled with humor. "If you go first, check out my future self and let me know if I'm still hot, eh?" I winked at him, forcing myself to cheer up. "You bet." I watched his back as he went to the sink, washed the rug, hang it up on the long neck of the faucet to dry. "Hey, Dad," I said, waited until he turned around to face me. "I got the job." When my dad smiled, really smiled, his whole face lit up. It was hard not to smile back. "Oh, baby girl, I knew it. Congratulations! Want pizza tonight to celebrate?" I nodded happily. He frowned. "Oops. Sorry, I just remembered I have extra work tonight. How about tomorrow night?" Oh, right. The local gymnasium. "That sounds good. I'll drive to the gym after class and give you a hand if I don't have work tonight." "That's okay. Dylan will help me for a couple hours and Erwin is coming too. About this new job—" "Mornin'," Dylan mumbled as he walked sleepily in the kitchen. My dad scooped food from the pan and handed him a plate of pancakes and bacon. Dylan grabbed his drink in the fridge and sat next to me, inhaling the food in five seconds. I had no idea how he could eat so much in the morning. "All right, kids, I gotta open shop. I'll see you both tonight. Stay safe." He patted both our heads, walked to the door, and put on his jacket, shoes, and cap, and went out. "Hey, Dyl," I said. "I got the job." He nodded sleepily, drank his apple juice. "I knew you would." He got up and grabbed more pancakes, then went back to his seat beside me. He stabbed more food, shoved it in his mouth while his eyes were still half-closed. I always worried he'd choke to death eating half-asleep, but he seemed to be managing pretty well since he started eating solid food. "So, who's your friend who recommended me?" I asked, then took a sip of my coffee. "Cameron." I choked, spat my drink back in the mug, and started coughing. "What?" His eyes widened in alarm. "Shoot. I wasn't supposed to tell you." "Cameron?" My throat was burning. "Cameron St. Laurent? Like the guy who's motorcycle you hit and run?" He nodded grimly. "Don't tell him I told you." "B-but how the hell?" I sputtered. "I mean how did you guys even talk?" "It's cool. I found out his phone number and I started texting him. I mean I don't think he's a text kind of guy. He doesn't even reply most times and when he does, it's like one or two words, but we manage. I feel really close to him now, you know? Like we're bffs, you know?" "Oh, God." I groaned, collapsing on the kitchen island with my cheek on the cold table. "No, no, no." "He's actually a really good guy, Kar—" He stopped as I pushed away from the chair, scowling at him. I spotted the bacon on the side of his plate. I knew he always saved it for last. I growled at him, and he must have seen something in my face because his eyes widened in horror. Without mercy, I snatched his bacon and placed it in my mouth. "Nooo!" he cried. "Why?" "Don't talk to him again!" I said. I marched to the bathroom, spat out the bacon in the toilet and flushed it. I went to my room and looked at my phone. My heart skipped a beat when I saw a message in my inbox. It was from an unknown number. I glanced at the clock and noted that it was past eight o'clock.