Five Minutes

Chapter Five

I walked into my bathroom and looked in the mirror. What's going on? Evan's alive? He's my boyfriend? My head was pounding and I couldn't think straight. Suddenly, that man appeared behind me. I almost screamed, but the man covered my mouth.

Chuckling, he said, "Don't scream, I'm only here to help you."

"Who are you? What is going on?" I nearly screamed.

"I am just here to help you. You wanted to know what would have happened if Evan and his parents lived. This is your life with Evan, what would have happened if they were never in that accident." he said calmly, as if everything was completely normal.

I took a deep breath and said, "So, what am I supposed to do? How much of my life has changed?"

"Well darling, you'll just have to go downstairs and see!" the man said with a wink.

"But wait! What about-" Before I could even process the rest of my question, the man was gone. I took a deep breath and splashed some cold water on my face. This cannot be happening.

---

I slowly walk downstairs, my head still throbbing. There, sitting at the kitchen table, was a man. He was reading the newspaper and sipping some coffee. I stifled a squeal. It was Dad. Trying to stay as calm and normal as possible, I walked into the kitchen and sat down across from him at the table. 

He looked up from his paper and smiled at me. "Hey sweetie, how ya feeling?" he asked as he patted my hand

"Better" I mumbled, holding back the biggest grin of my life. It was my dad!

I heard a knock on the front door, then the door swung open. A tall, very handsome guy walked into the house. Dirty blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes. It was Evan. He was gorgeous. 

"Hey babe! You feeling better?" Evan asked with a gentle smile; I was beginning to hate that question, considering I didn't know why my head hurt, all my memories were fuzzy.

"Yeah, a little better," I said with a half smile. 

Evan walked up behind my chair and kissed the top of my head and mumbled "Poor baby". Oh my gosh he even smelled wonderful. He looked up at my mom and said, "Are you sure it's okay for her to go back to school already, Mrs. Stewart? She only got hurt yesterday."

My mom said without looking up, "The doctor said she was fine to go to school, but she can't go to cheer practice, and if she gets dizzy or tired, to go lay down."

Wait... cheer practice!? But... I hate cheerleaders! They're so stuck up and stupid!

I forced a half sad smile as Evan said, "Aw crap babe, I just remembered, you're gonna miss the big homecoming game!"

"I'm gonna um... go get my stuff..." I said as I got up from the table and made my way upstairs. I went into my room and closed the door behind me. There he was, that same man, sitting on my bed.

"What the crap is going on!?" I exclaimed.

The man gave me a gentle smile and reached out his hand. "Come here, darling. Sit down and think, you'll remember what happened soon enough." he said in almost a whisper.

I sat down on my bed and closed my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I began to remember. Evan. He's the reason I tried out for cheer. In 8th grade, he and I made a bet. Some silly bet about one of our teachers. If he lost, he would dye his hair pink over the summer, and if I lost, I tried out for the freshman cheer squad. I evidently lost, and by some miracle, made the team. I actually got along really well with all the girls on the team; I'm sure it had to do with the fact that I was best friends with the quarterback of the football team. Wow, Evan, my Evan, quarterback. Now, as a junior, I'm head cheerleader and center flyer. And then came the injury. Yesterday at practice we were going over our stunts for the big homecoming game. The girls threw me up, but we lost control somewhere along the way, and instead of landing on my feet in the hands of my bases, I landed on my head on the hard gym floor.

Well, now that I had that cleared up, I still had one important detail left to be explained...

"EVAN AND I ARE DATING!?" I exclaimed, opening my eyes. 

The man just laughed and put his hand on my shoulder. "Oh, honey, you better get going, or you'll be late for school."

---

As Evan and I got out of his car and began walking through the school parking lot, Evan grabbed my hand and said, "Remember babe, if you start to feel bad, just text me, I can give you a ride home if you need. I don't mind ditching class. Anything for you. You've had a rough weekend."

"You don't know the half of it." I mumbled.