I leaned forward, my arm inadvertently pushing down the door handle as I did. The door swung inward. If not for the fact that I have a decent sense of balance, I would have landed in a heap on the desk in front of me, but I caught myself and looked upward toward the spot where my father had been standing.
Dad was no longer there. He was no longer anywhere in the classroom. A plump, middle-aged woman was at his desk. The woman wasn’t anyone I knew. Another stranger, a good-looking guy with dark blond hair, was in the desk where I usually sat, with a trigonometry textbook open in front of him. I was pretty sure he was new as well. The other faces in the class were familiar. They were, however, all looking at me strangely. I caught the eye of Carleigh Devins, a girl with whom I was friendly although not quite friends, and tried a weak smile—only to receive a quizzical look in return.
I couldn’t breathe. I looked at the woman behind the desk, who was not Dad, and back at the guy who was sitting in what was usually my desk. I opened my mouth to say “Wrong class…,” but it came out as a hoarse whisper. Then the classroom began to spin and I slid to the floor.
As I came to, the first thing I noticed was a chubby, pale hand with a faded pink lotus tattoo patting my arm. After a moment, my eyes began to focus and I followed the hand up to the face of its owner, who was apparently the teacher. She and the tall blond guy who had been occupying my desk hovered over me anxiously. I looked around the room again. This was definitely Dad’s classroom, and with the exception of the blond guy, this was my trig class.
“Are you okay?” the woman asked.
I wasn’t. The dizzy sensation was much the same as it had been during the previous two time shifts, although it seemed more subdued this time. Perhaps that was due to the CHRONOS key? The wrenching sensation in my gut was worse, however, and that was definitely due to the fact that Dad had just vanished in front of my eyes.
“Wrong class. I’m okay—really. Sorry for the interruption.”
But… what if Dad was sick today? And she was a substitute? Even though I knew it was probably wishful thinking, I needed to go to the cottage and check it out.
I pushed myself upward and the blond guy helped me to my feet. “I’m Trey. You’re new here, right? Careful… you still look a bit unsteady. Maybe you should sit down.”
“Sorry,” I repeated. “I need to go.” I was still feeling a bit dizzy, but I pulled away and headed out of the classroom.
“Wait,” the teacher called. “You shouldn’t be up so quickly. Trey, follow her. Make her see the nurse.”
And so, as I hurried down the hall, Mr. Tall Blond and Handsome followed, only a few steps behind. “Wait, where are you going? The nurse’s office is this way.”
“I’m fine.”
I continued out the building exit, with the guy still following me. He grabbed my arm. “Hey, be careful. You don’t want to faint again on these stairs.”
“Look, it’s Trey, right? You seem nice enough, but please, go away. I have to find my dad.”
“Your dad?”
We continued across the parking lot, toward the soccer fields. “He’s a teacher here,” I said. “Harry Keller? We live across the campus, near the edge. In one of the faculty cottages. That’s where I’m headed. Please, just let me go.”
He released my arm. “Okay, we can go to the cottage if you want, but then we go see the nurse.”
“No—I’ll just lie down. I’m fine. I should have eaten lunch…”
I kept walking, and so did he.
“Sorry, no can do. I told Mrs. Dees you would see the nurse. I can’t go back to class until…” I turned to glare at him and saw that he was smiling—a wide, friendly grin. “Listen,” he said, “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but unless you enrolled today, you’re not a student here. I would definitely have remembered you. I haven’t been here long myself, so I keep an eye out for newbies—it’s a bit hard to fit in with those who have been here since seventh grade. And I’m pretty sure there’s no Harry Keller on the faculty.”
I shook my head. “He has to be… and if you think I’m not who I say I am, why don’t you trot back to teacher and tell her to alert security?” I picked up my pace. “If I’m not a student, I shouldn’t be here.”
“Right,” he said. “But where’s the fun in that? You don’t appear to be a dangerous terrorist and, besides, you did faint back there. So why don’t you tell me what’s wrong? Maybe I can help.”