“I don’t like being touched,” Scary growled.
Scary Carrie indeed.
“Not a problem,” I replied, holding my hands up in mock-surrender. I tried to suppress a gulp. I straightened out my jacket and pushed ahead of Scary. I looked back at her mainly to see she wasn’t about to stab me in the back—literally stab me in the back that is—when I caught her quickly pull her hoodie down over her face. I could only see the tip of her nose and mouth.
I pushed open the door with more force than I intended to use. Scary Carrie made a small noise in response. I wondered if it was possible that she could actually be scared of me?
I turned around to tell her sorry. I’m not sure why I felt the need to do so, but I did. Before I could get the words out, I watched as her mouth formed a small “o” shape. Her hand reached up and she pointed forward.
“Who the hell is that?” she whispered.
I whipped around to see a man sitting on a briefcase throwing an apple up in the air and catching it. And he was wearing the biggest smile possible.
Someone was having a good day.
Chapter 3
“Just delightful.”
Someone was having a really good day. And for some reason the sight of Scary Carrie and me seemed to make his day even better. The man was dressed in an impeccable black suit, and I assumed most girls would find him attractive. He looked like he’d stepped off the set of Mad Men, a show my uncle was obsessed with. Not that I ever watched it. The most I knew about the show was that it starred that guy who had hooks for hands on 30 Rock.
I glanced back at Carrie. She didn’t seem too impressed. In fact, she took a step so she was behind me.
“It sure took you two long enough,” the man chirped, still wearing his smile. Everything about him seemed off. Who was he? Why was he wearing a suit? How was not a single strand of his hair out a place? How could he wear a smile amidst the destruction that surrounded us?
“Excuse me?” I mumbled.
The man laughed. “Sorry. This is all probably a bit confusing.” The man stood up and walked over to us, offering me his hand to shake.
I looked back at Carrie who now had her hoodie pushed back further down on her head, just enough so her eyes peeked through. She was staring at the apple. The man noticed as well. He pushed the apple towards us. “Hungry?”
“No. We’re not hungry,” she said lowly.
Of course I was hungry. I’m a teenage boy. But I agreed with Carrie; somehow the whole don’t take candy from strangers seemed to apply now to produce as well.
The man shrugged and stuck the apple inside his coat pocket.
“I guess we should get started then,” he said, breaking a silence that seemed to still everything.
“Started?” I asked.
The man nodded. “I’m sure you have a ton of questions, and there are a lot of rules you must understand.”
“Rules? Rules for what?” I asked.
“Logan, maybe we should go and look around,” Carrie whispered to me. I looked back to see her bouncing up and down, a nervous energy making her whole body come alive.
“I wouldn’t do that. Nope. Not a good idea. There’s all kinds of trouble around here. Don’t want to see anything happen to two of our stars.”
Did the man ever stop smiling?
I shook my head in an attempt to clear it. It wasn’t used to working this hard.
A trickle of blood began to seep from the man’s nose. For the briefest of moments, I saw the man’s smile begin to falter. He quickly reached up and wiped away the blood, holding tight onto his smile.
“All right QB1, how about you and Ms. Lambert follow me,” the man said, slapping me on the arm as if we were best buds.
“How...how did you know I’m the quarterback?”
“Well, because I know everything about you, Logan. Of course I do. You two are shifters, and I’m your orientation leader. I’ve been studying you for years. We make sure to watch all of our shifters. And when the time comes, we activate them.”
“What the what?” Carrie...er...Ms. Lambert sputtered.
The man sighed. Well, sort of sighed. It was such a fake sounding sigh that I was beginning to think the man didn’t care if we believed anything he said. He seemed to enjoy our confusion. With every question we asked, his smile got brighter.
“Right. You two don’t know anything yet. Shifters are those selected to travel through time. I mean this obviously isn’t your present. Well, it is your present, but not the present you’re used to living in. I mean, you’re definitely not in Kansas anymore.”
“Great. Clichés. That’s helpful” Carrie mumbled.
“Time travel? Really? Even I’m not dense enough to fall for that one. Even if that’s possible, you think I’d believe some teenager from Virginia Beach would be selected? Why not choose some Navy Seal or some rocket scientist? I’ve seen enough movies to know those are the time travel go-to guys,” I replied. “I don’t even own a pair of fake-hipster glasses. Glasses are a must for any time traveler,” I joked lamely.