Feels Like We Only Go Backwards (By Tame Impala)
"It feels like I only go backwards, baby. Every part of me says go ahead. I've got my hopes up again, oh no, not again. It feels like we only go backwards, darlin' . . ."
Owen and Kara were dragged down various hallways, grunting and struggling to break free as they were held by the dinosaur hunting instructor and the group of Time Security Agency guards. Owen didn't know where they were going, and he didn't want to know. Wherever they were going, it definitely wasn't good.
"Bring them in here," Tobias said, coming to a halt and opening the door of a room, then gestured for the guards to bring Owen and Kara along.
Owen was half-pushed, half-dragged forcefully into the room, which was dimly-lit. It was about the size of a large closet, with two tables that sat next to a small circular table. Along the wall were a row of machines that Owen couldn't depict the use of. Before he could get a good look at anything, the guards pushed him onto the table.
"Hey! Get off me!" he yelled, trying to fight against them and get off the table. The guards grabbed his flailing arms and legs, forcefully pulling them down and strapping him to the table with leather straps. Owen's eyes widened and he jerked around even more, attempting to break free of his bonds. He had to get out of here. He felt as trapped as a caged animal, and he desperately tried to free himself but each time he tried, he got more winded.
At the entrance of the room, Kara was pushed forward. Just like Owen, she made several attempts to fight back, punching and elbowing and kicking, but the guards appeared to have no issues holding onto her. They lifted her onto the second table and strapped her down. They ignored the many insults she gave them, instead backing away and standing in a line beside the wall.
Tobias slowly closed the door, then clicked a button on the electronic pad to the side. The door sealed shut, making a loud groaning noise. His gaze drifted from Kara to Owen, who remained stuck on the tables. "What were you doing out of your cells?"
"Let us go!" Kara yelled, flinging her head around and fighting against her bonds. "You can't keep us strapped down like this!"
He studied the kids a moment longer before a dark chuckle escaped him; Owen realized that laughter wasn't always a joyous thing. "Oh, Kara. As if I'd listen to a word out of your stupid mouth. I asked you a question. And I didn't hear an answer, did I?"
"We were taking a walk!" Owen offered, then cringed at his reply. He wasn't the best liar.
"Sometimes, you kids really need to learn things the hard way, don't you?" he said with disdain, his eyes narrowing. "I'll ask you one more time, or else both of you are getting tasered. What. Were. You. Doing. Out. Of. Your. Cells."
"W-We were looking for the time watches," Owen said, his mouth trembling.
"Owen," Kara hissed.
He gave her an apologetic look. "He was going to taser us! What else was I supposed to say?"
"You —"
"No talking!" Tobias barked in a loud voice, causing the two kids to fall silent. "One more word out of your mouths, and you both get something worse than a taser in the side, you hear?"
Despite being on a table, Owen quickly nodded, beads of sweat pouring down the back of his neck. He glanced at Kara, who had stopped moving altogether. If looks could kill, the daggers that were evident in her glare would've had Tobias dead by now.
Owen watched with baited breath as Tobias stalked towards Kara, then crouched down and began talking to her in a quiet voice. Owen could only hear snippets of what he was saying, which wasn't enough to understand what Tobias was telling Kara. He could see Kara's facial expression change from furious to shocked. He fought his initial instinct, which was to yell at Tobias for talking to her. Instead, he focused his energy on tugging on his arms and legs, trying to make the leather straps come loose.
Just as Owen thought the strap might've loosened, Tobias straightened up, giving Kara one last look before turning around. "I hope that'll get you to stop messing up everything in the Time Security Agency."
"What did you tell her?" Owen asked, immediately ceasing with his fidgeting and simultaneously trying to seem tough.
"Nothing you need to be concerned about," Tobias harshly replied. "Just making sure you prisoners know your place. Maybe think about the consequences of your actions, hm?"
He leaned in close to Owen's ear, so close that he could feel Tobias's hot breaths hitting his cheek. Owen shuddered, trying to break out of his bonds. "You've been real annoying these past few days, and I'm getting pretty tired of it."
Owen tried leaning away, but it only resulted in Tobias shoving him back into the table. "Soon, and I mean soon, I'm gonna make sure you pay for every stupid remark you've given me. You've gotten off lucky, so far. But prisoners should know their boundaries. If you try to look for, or if you try to break into the time watch facility again — or anywhere — I'm separating you from your friend."
He remained silent, but on the inside, he was panicking. They couldn't separate him from Kara! He would probably never see her again, and he would have a worse chance of escaping than before.
Tobias slowly backed away from Owen, a menacing glare on his face. The boy averted his gaze, his heart racing and his face flushed with embarrassment. He wished that he could break out of his bonds and escape, but he couldn't think of any ways to do that. He didn't even know if his time powers would be useful at a time like this.
"I think you'll learn your lesson if we do this the classic way," Tobias said, nodding in affirmation at the soldiers behind him. "Once I get these electric shocks started —"
A man in a lab coat entered the room, looking nervous. "Sorry to interrupt but . . ." He glanced behind Tobias at Owen, then at Kara, and then at the guards standing next to the doorway. "We need Tobias to use the sedatives to calm the dinosaurs down. We're having difficulty in the caging room. The dinosaurs are becoming more difficult to control. The T-Rex has woken up. They're restless."
Tobias hesitated, then glanced at Owen and stepped back. "Have any of them escaped?"
"No, sir." The man shook his head. "But we are concerned with the way they're acting, and at this rate they might —"
"Has anyone been attacked? Injured?"
"No. They have not."
"If they are caged, why do they need the sedatives?" Tobias asked in a low tone, turning to face the man.
"They need to calm down, sir."
Slowly, the dinosaur hunting instructor nodded. "Alright. Take these two back to their rooms."
Owen watched this exchange with curiosity. He knew that the dinosaurs were caged somewhere, but he didn't know why, or for what specific reason. He could tell that there was something deeper going on.
As Tobias and the man in the lab coat left the room, the guards walked briskly over to Owen and Kara, removing their bonds and pulling them off the table. Owen shakily got to his feet, feeling a little unsteady. He exchanged a look with Kara, who looked rattled. He wanted to comfort her, since she still seemed upset by what Tobias had told her, but he knew he'd have to wait until they were alone.
The two kids were escorted out of the room — less forcibly than they'd been when Tobias was with them. As they walked down the hallways that led back to the jail cells, Owen sneaked glances at Kara, growing increasingly worried at her behavior. She wasn't fighting back against the guards, and she was completely silent, staring at her shoes.
"Kara?" Owen whispered.
"Shut up!" a guard said, prodding Owen in the back with a rod. He bit his lip and glared at the floor, anger rising in his chest. Sudden tears flooded his eyes, and he blinked them away, trying to focus on the present. He needed to help Kara, somehow. He couldn't be useless and emotional, like he normally was.
Owen wondered how him and Kara were ever going to get those time watches. He had to get them as soon as possible, or else he might never escape. If he got his hands on a time watch, he could save Bethany. And if him and Kara hadn't gotten caught, they probably would've found the time watches by now. How had the guards caught them so easily? This was both unfair and frustrating — in so many ways.
By the time they got back to their cells, Owen was so tired that he was practically dragging his feet across the floor. The guards opened his and Kara's jail cell doors, ordering them to head inside. Not in the mood for protesting, Owen walked into his dark cell and jumped at the sound of his barred metal door behind him being closed with a bang.
After removing his shoes, Owen looked over at Kara's cell. It was dead silent, and he wondered how upset she really was. Slowly, he made his way over to the spot where they cells connected. "Kara? Are you okay?"
"Yes." Her voice was slightly muffled, and he assumed she was in her bed. It was too dark to tell.
"A-Are you sure? I just, I mean — you seem upset. Really upset. What did he say to you?"
Kara sighed in response. Owen placed a hand on one of the bars, gently curling his fingers around it. He swallowed, organizing his thoughts, then spoke after a few seconds of figuring out what to say. "I'm sorry. It was stupid of me to think we could find the time watches without getting caught." He looked at the ground, a familiar feeling of shame registering through him.
"What? Owen, it's not your fault," she said. "It's mine."
He shook his head, despite her not being able to see him. "Not in any way is it your fault. It's mine! It's always my fault. I wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible, and I didn't stop to think — I didn't, well, I . . ." He took a deep breath. "I don't know what Tobias told you, but whatever he said, it's not true."
"You don't know that."
"Yeah, I do."
"No, you don't," Kara said, anger laced into her tone. "He's right, trust me. I destroy the whole world, no matter what I do. Even when I try to save the world by being here, I still manage to mess up people's lives. I mess up everything, you know? No matter how hard I try to prevent myself from it, it still happens."
At first, Owen didn't respond. He felt shocked, to say the least. He was surprised at what she said, not just because her words seemed so raw, but because he understood. He understood everything she was saying, on a much deeper level than he could interpret. Ever since his first adventure into Kiel Gnomenfoot and the Source of Magic, he had messed everything up without even trying. And that wasn't even the last time he'd messed things up. He had done it when he encouraged Bethany to seek out Doyle, which resulted in him and Kiel going on a wild goose chase to rescue Bethany. All because of his idea. There were countless other times that he'd missed everything up, too. He still blamed himself for it. But now that someone else felt the same way, somehow . . . he felt less alone.
"You aren't the only one. I mess up everything, too. I'm just . . . ordinary. Compared to, well, everyone I know," Owen said quietly, unsure why he was so comfortable speaking freely about his insecurities. He didn't even talk to Bethany, his best friend, about his deepest insecurities. He looked at Kara. "Hey, if we both mess up all the time, maybe we'll even each other out."
He heard a small chuckle escape her. "You think?"
He smiled. "Yeah."
"For the record, I don't think you're ordinary," Kara told him. "An ordinary person wouldn't be amazing. And you definitely wouldn't be here, in this prison."
Owen blushed at her words. Nobody, besides his mother, had ever told him that. "You think I'm amazing?"
"Of course I do. Don't make me explain myself!" Kara said with a laugh.
After a few minutes more of quietly talking, Owen retreated to his bed, giving in to the grogginess that consumed him. He'd definitely be tired tomorrow. As he laid in bed, he tried convincing himself that tonight had been worth it. Hadn't it? Even if they hadn't found the time watches, even if they had gotten caught, it was still worth it.
Owen looked up at the ceiling, right into the eyes of what he assumed were the readers. "Bethany? I might take a little longer than I thought. Just . . . please give me a sign if you're out there. I want to know if you're okay." He waited, watching for any sign that she was there. Clearly, she wasn't, because nothing happened.
He sighed. "Please stay safe. I'm going to get out of this book, I promise. Just . . . hold on a little longer, alright? I'll be there soon. I'm going to stop Nobody before he separates you."
And I won't mess anything up ever again, he added silently. He couldn't let Bethany down again.
The first thought that popped into Kiel's mind was how pain could be comparable to a balloon. It creeped into his throat, squeezing tight like the tie on a balloon, forcibly squeezing off all the air. Kiel knew this, because he had seen balloons when he was twelve. Back then, they were bright yellow, illuminated by the glistening sun. They blinded him, and he loved it. They had heads like aliens, and they were dancing all around in the wind, held down to the Earth only by a thin string. Unlike balloons, though, this pain would not pop, or change colors, or float away. It was always there, like a shadow. It clung to him, holding steadfast around his neck, daring him to test it's strength and take a gulp of air.
A hand laid on his shoulder, shaking him. Kiel heard a panicked voice, but it sounded so far away. This must be a dream. He sank into sleep again, hoping the pain would dissipate. But it didn't. The hand shook him again, and he groaned, slowly being pulled back into consciousness.
"Kiel?" The hand moved away from his shoulder, then was briefly pressed against his forehead. "Kiel, are you alright?"
It seemed like a long time before Kiel found the strength and willpower to open his eyes. The ever-present blackness was still there, but it was the slightly brighter. It took him a moment to recognize his surroundings. He squinted his eyes, shifted his gaze from the dark sky to the figure sitting next to him. Their arm was still on his shoulder, and the person— the woman — looked mortified. Waking up on the ground had become a habit of his, apparently.
Kiel slowly opened his mouth, and was surprised to find that the words would not come. He struggled to say something, but it came out as sounding more like a strained gasp for air. He tried clearing his throat, which only brought pain shooting up his entire throat. His voice was barely a whisper when he finally formed his lips to say the words. "Ms . . . Con . . . Conners?"
"Oh, thank god you're awake," Owen's mother said, sighing in relief. She was typing something onto her phone. "Lay still. I'm calling an ambulance."
Ambulance? Kiel's eyes widened. No way. He couldn't go there. Not another encounter with the News or the nonfictional police. They'd only send him to jail, and he wasn't even positive if he could escape, since this was the nonfictional world. That would only make things worse.
Despite the pain that shot through him, he managed to get his hands beneath him. He struggled to push himself off the ground, grunting as he did so. He blocked out the feeling and pulled himself the rest of the way into a sitting position, struggling to breathe. By the time he was upright, Ms. Conners was already on the phone, talking in a panicked voice.
"N . . . no," Kiel said, trying to speak as loudly as he could. His voice would only come out in a whisper. His hands curled into fists, squeezing tightly in frustration. He had never felt so weak and tired at the same time. He hated this feeling. He hated it more than anything else.
"Who did this to you?" Ms. Conners demanded once she was done talking on the phone. She stared him up and down, worry lines etched on her face. "I want to get the police in on this. You look terrible."
"No. Po . . . pol . . . lice —" Kiel started to rasp, but Ms. Conners patted his arm. "Don't worry, honey. Whoever hurt you, I'll make sure they're caught."
"No —" He tried to protest again, but Owen's mom shushed him. He sighed, hoping that his body language would express more than his words could. As they waited in silence for the ambulance to arrive, Kiel's mind started to race. It was the only thing in his body that was still in good working order.
Everything rushed back to him: Oliver threatening him once, then twice, and then choking him into unconsciousness. Kiel winced at his latest memories and reached up to feel his neck, just to make sure it wasn't all a dream. Tender bruises lined the area, and Kiel suspected they were already beginning to darken if they hadn't already. He gently pressed a finger into his neck, trying to feel where the most damage had occurred. A sharp, stabbing pain filled the area, and he quickly retracted his finger with a sharp intake of breath.
In the distance, there was the noise of a siren, which was growing increasingly louder by the second. Kiel didn't have much knowledge about the nonfictional world, but he knew what that meant. The ambulance had arrived. He moved his head, trying to see if there were any escape routes nearby. He was still at the back of the library, so there wasn't much here except for a few dumpsters and an empty parking lot. And judging by his physical state, Kiel assumed he wouldn't get very far if he tried to make a run for it.
Apparently not seeing his discomfort, Ms. Conners wrapped her arms around his body, hooking them until his armpits and lifting him off of the ground. Kiel stumbled forward but managed to catch himself before he could fall. Ms. Conners's hand went to Kiel's back, steadying him. "Do you need any help with walking? It's the least I could do."
Kiel shook his head multiple times, because talking only brought him pain. He was a little unsteady on his feet, but he shrugged off Ms. Conners's offer of help. He didn't want to rely on anyone else when he could clearly help himself. He especially didn't want to admit that he was too weak.
"Okay," she replied, watching him warily. She was walking slowly beside him, her arms outstretched as if to catch him. "Let's get you over to the ambulance. You've been bleeding, and it's hard to say where your injuries are. I was worried for a minute there. I've never seen anyone look so beat up."
Kiel looked down at himself in surprise, and felt a small dose of relief when he saw that his body wasn't covered in blood. It was most likely his face she was talking about. It hurt almost everywhere, specifically his stomach, neck, and head. Kiel had gotten into small fist fights before, but they never had been this serious, and this was his first time getting choked. He wondered if there was any serious damage to his throat. Being choked was a traumatizing experience, and he was tempted to use a forget spell on himself, just so he wouldn't have to relive the memory every time he attempted to speak.
It had been way too long since he had a fair fight, and he was worried that he wasn't as impressive as he used to be. The only reason he lost, he reminded himself, was because he was out of practice. That was the only reason. On a better-prepared day, especially using magic, Kiel could've taken Oliver down.
Kiel's brain still felt foggy, so it was hard to piece the events together. He wasn't even sure how long he'd been unconscious. From the looks of it, he could guess that he'd been lying on the ground since early this afternoon. Now it was completely dark out, with a full moon and not a single trace of light in the sky. He didn't remember going home after the fight, and he hoped Elijah wouldn't be too worried about him.
They came around the side of the building, walking at a slow pace. The ambulance was pulling up to the entrance of the library in a hurry, and medics were already opening the doors. Two people in purple scrubs came over to him, and Kiel was ushered into the back of the van. He mustered a glare, trying to get the message across that he clearly didn't need anyone's help, but the people didn't notice. They were too busy taking out medical supplies, talking to each other, and observing his neck.
What felt like only a few minutes later, the ambulance came to a screeching halt in front of a new building. The group tumbled out of the van, and despite his protests, Kiel was carried and plopped onto a wheelchair (was that really necessary?). A nurse was behind him, pushing him inside the sliding glass doors. He squinted his eyes at the sudden bright light that came from everywhere. The hospital was filled with action; the loud noises of machines, phone calls being answered, and doctors walking in and out of each room. Kiel was pushed down the hallway, the nurses walking a bit slower than they had been a few minutes ago.
He was brought into a small room with a bed that had various machines surrounding it. Various people helped him out of his chair and onto the bed, which was covered with a thin white sheet. He leaned his head against the pillow, taking note of how weirdly stiff it felt. As the nurses grabbed equipment from some of the drawers, Kiel sniffed the air. It smelled strange, almost like a mixture of sickness and soap.
A nurse walked over to him, holding a white disinfectant cloth. She gently brushed it against his cheeks, forehead, and nose. Kiel's face was still stinging with pain, but he tried not to appear weak as she wiped the cloth across his face. When the nurse pulled her hand away, the cloth was completely red. She tossed it into the trash can. "That's some fight you were in. Your face was bleeding in various places, but luckily for you, the bleeding has stopped. That means that your nose wasn't broken. If it were, you'd need to get surgery."
Kiel soaked the words in. He was slowly becoming aware of the seriousness of this situation. He felt relieved to know that he wasn't gravely injured, despite the issue with his voice and throat.
She walked back over to Kiel, ordering for him to sit up. He did so, then jumped back as the nurse grabbed the ends of his shirt, attempting to take it off of him. The nurse frowned. "I can't see any wounds if your shirt is covering your body."
He made a face. Fair enough, he thought. He allowed the nurse to peel off his shirt, revealing a bruised stomach and chest. The nurse moved her fingers along Kiel's stomach and ribs, pressing gently into them. Kiel inhaled sharply as the pain intensified, and the nurse quickly retracted her hand.
"You have bruised ribs," the nurse stated. "They'll take a while to heal. You'll need plenty of rest, and you'll need to drink lots of water. Got it?"
Kiel's eyes widened. "Bruised . . . ?" He instantly winced, unable to say another word.
The nurse pulled his shirt over his head, sliding it back over his body. "There's another thing you need to do. Rest your voice. Don't talk unless it's absolutely necessary. Your vocal cords are very damaged, and it may take a long time for them to heal. I'd recommend a few weeks without talking."
"A . . . few . . . weeks?" Kiel rasped, choking over his words. He lifted a hand to his neck, making a half-attempt to massage it.
The nurse nodded, stepping back and grabbing a roll of cloth from the counter. She unrolled it until it almost reached the floor, then cut it with scissors. She walked back over to him and lifted the gauze, slowly wrapping it around his forehead. Once she was done, she placed a similar bandage on his nose. "You're very lucky that nothing was broken. I never understood why boys your age feel the need to punch each other. One or the other always ends up with a broken nose. Can't you just solve problems rationally?"
Kiel lifted his eyebrows. "Well . . . I . . . was . . . winning . . . the . . . fight. That's . . . rational . . ."
"I doubt you were the one who was winning, with the shape you're in. Also, what did I say about the talking?"
"Trust . . . me . . ." he croaked. "I . . . won."
The nurse gave him a disbelieving stare, then forced a smile. "We're going to do some x-rays, okay? Just to make sure that your body is in good shape."
Good shape? He almost scoffed. In general, he considered himself charmingly attractive and athletic, but right now he doubted he was anywhere close to being in "good shape". His ribs, neck, and vocal cords were all bruised, after all.
A short while later, a swift knock was heard at the door, and a doctor came in. "Hello, Kiel. My name is Dr. Cho. I see you're all checked out and bandaged up. You ready for a nice, fun x-ray?"
Kiel shuddered. Nice and fun were not adjectives for whatever an "x-ray" was. The only thing he could compare this with was Charm's ray guns, which were deadly. This whole place reminded him of Dr. Verity and Quanterium, and although he knew these people were genuine, he couldn't help being untrusting. Anything related to science made him feel a little sick.
Despite his feeling of unwillingness, Kiel slowly nodded. There wasn't much else he could do besides allow the people to help him. If he refused the help, he might never recover. That wouldn't be helpful at all. He needed to hit Oliver back, and hard. He didn't care what the cost might be. He only cared about Bethany's safety, and he couldn't protect her if he was too weak to do so. He wouldn't be able to defend even himself if this crippling injury remained.
He slid off the bed and followed the doctor into another room, which had a large, buzzing machine that hovered over a table. Kiel stopped in his tracks. He was expecting Dr. Verity to appear out of nowhere and shout, "Ha! You should've escaped when you had the chance!"
Sensing his discomfort, Dr. Cho smiled at him. "You'll need to lay on top of here. We're just getting a simple x-ray of your body. Would you like to know the details?"
Kiel shrugged in response.
"Okay. X-rays are a form of electromagnetic radiation. This specific x-day will create pictures of the inside of your body. The images show the parts of your body in different shades of black or white. This is because different tissues absorb different amounts of radiation. Calcium in bones absorbs x-rays the most, so bones look white. Fat and other soft tissues absorb less, and look gray. Air absorbs the least, so lungs will look black. With this, we'll be able to see if anything is broken or out of place."
"I can . . . see . . . why . . . your . . . parents . . . named . . . you 'Doctor'," Kiel observed, taking in all of this new information. He hadn't payed too much attention to what the doctor said. It all sounded like a bunch of scientific words jumbled together.
". . . They didn't. It's my occupation title."
He half-grinned. "Occupation . . . title? I've . . . got . . . some . . . titles . . . of . . . my . . . own." Titles that he was quite proud of, specifically Kiel Gnomenfoot and the End of Everything; it had the most appropriate level of importance.
Dr. Cho just stared at him, clearly at a loss for words, then patted the spot on the table. "I promise this procedure will be quick. And afterward, I'll even let you watch some TV while you wait for your folks to arrive."
An excuse to watch more TV? Kiel instantly felt more encouraged to go through with this, despite every cell in his brain screaming at him that this could be a trap. Deep down, he knew that it wasn't a trap. The people here were friendly, and unlike his past experiences with Quanteriums, they had no malicious intent. He slowly walked over to the glowing bed and cautiously laid down on it. He was far from trusting anything that was science-related, but for the sake of his health, he forced himself to stay put.
Dr. Cho pressed a few buttons onto the machine, and a loud beeping noise was heard. "Lay still. If you move around, we'll need to redo the x-ray."
Kiel didn't respond. He was too busy staring, transfixed at the machine that moved above his head. It made loud noises as it passed over his head, looking like a dark, looming shadow. When nothing bad happened, he relaxed, allowing the machine to finish it's work. When the x-ray was done, Kiel rose from the table, wanting nothing more than to leave.
The doctor motioned for him to follow, and Kiel was once again walking through the brightly-lit hallway of the hospital, his wide-eyed stare trailing from the bustling people to the machines and equipment they pushed around. They walked down a few more hallways, Kiel struggling to keep up as he still felt very weak. He collapsed into a stiff, plastic chair. Just as the doctor had promised, a TV sat across from him. It was smaller than Bethany's, and it hung on the wall. The volume was muted and the captions were on, but Kiel didn't care too much about that. He was grateful for the distraction. He didn't want to focus on how much his body was hurting. Not only that, but he didn't want to admit that him, Kiel Gnomenfoot, famous boy magician and savior of all Magisteria, had no clue how to fix this mess.
But there was no time to waste feeling sorry for himself. Oliver was still out there, probably cooking up another of his evil plans. Bethany could be in danger right now, and what was he doing besides sitting around and feeling physically exhausted?
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, simply watching and waiting. Exhaustion kicked in, but he was too stubborn to close his eyes. He had to keep them open. He couldn't give in to the temptation, to the weakness. He had to remain in control of something. At one point, after his eyes had glazed over from being locked on the bright TV, the door opened. It was Owen's mother.
Her eyes were downcast when she first walked in. Then she threw a glance around the room. Her eyes landed on Kiel, and she smiled. "Hi. Are you feeling better?"
Kiel nodded, deciding to lie so she wouldn't have to worry. "Yes. Why . . . are you . . ." He coughed, which normally wouldn't have been painful, but now it was. "Here?"
"I wanted to check in on you, just to make sure you're alright. Are you parents here?"
He shook his head.
Ms. Conners took a seat beside him, eyes trailing from his now-bandaged face to the dark bruises on his neck. She looked slightly horrified at the sight. "Kiel . . . I understand that this just happened, and it must've been horrible, but I want to know who did this to you. You didn't deserve to go through that, especially at your age."
He stared blankly at her. "I . . . I don't . . . remember."
She sighed. "Can you at least try to remember? Whoever did this to you should be at the police station."
Kiel thought about telling her, then went against it. This was his problem, and he'd fix it on his own. Turning Oliver over to the police would be a very bad idea. He couldn't put anyone else in danger. He had to get rid of Oliver by himself, before any more damage was done. There was a chance that Oliver would hurt more people, which might include Owen's mom if Kiel told her about Oliver. Kiel couldn't have that happen. This time, he wouldn't hesitate when he faced Oliver again. Kiel would cast a spell on him, and that sickening boy would be no match for his amazing spell casting.
He shook his head, feeling internally sick. "Sorry . . . I can't."
At that moment, the nurse walked over to him. "Young man? We have your paperwork for the x-ray."
She handed a thick packet to Kiel. He stared blankly at it, turning it over in his hands. It had a bunch of pictures all over it, but he was too tired to decipher what they meant. "What . . . does it . . . mean?"
"It means that you don't have any broken ribs," the nurse supplied. "You're all good to go. Just remember to take care of your body. Lots of rest, water, and healthy foods. Keep the talking at a minimum."
Kiel winked. "I . . . will . . . do the . . . opposite . . . of what . . . you . . . said."
The nurse seemed to take his words seriously. "You are in a critical condition. Regarding your vocal cords, they will take a long time to heal. If you don't follow our instructions, your symptoms won't improve."
"Ready to go?" Ms. Conners said to Kiel, glancing between the woman to him. He nodded quickly, standing up and stuffing the paperwork into his bag. The nurse didn't try to stop them as they made their way out the door.
The drive back to Owen's house was swathed in heavy silence. Kiel stared out the window, his head leaned against the seat as he watched the houses and trees zip past. Bands of trees, thin and skeletal-looking, lined the winding road that they drove across. It was completely dark, aside from the narrow path the car's headlights illuminated, along with the streetlights that stood along the edges of the road.
"A few years ago, we went to Six Flags for the first time," Ms. Conners said, breaking their silence and startling Kiel from his trance. "He wanted to go on all the roller coasters."
Kiel blinked, turning his head to look at her. It was the first thing she had said since they were at the hospital. "Who?"
Owen's mother glanced at him, then back at the road. "Owen. He begged me to take him, so I took him for his tenth birthday. He didn't always have many friends, not until you and Bethany. And since his dad is . . . well, not around anymore, I was the only person available to take him. I was never a fan of amusement parks. I always prefer reading books over anything else."
Kiel smiled at that. Owen and his mother were more alike than he realized.
"We went on Kingda Ka. You know that one?" He didn't, but he didn't question it. He wasn't entirely sure what an amusement park or "Kingda Ka" even was. Luckily, she wasn't looking at him.
"You can imagine how scared I was. Owen was scared too, but at least he seemed to be having fun." Ms. Conners wistful smile faded into a frown. She lifted one hand from the wheel to wipe at her eyes. She sniffled loudly. "Sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable. I . . . I just haven't had the chance to talk to anyone about this since he left. Every time I try remembering him, I start crying."
"It's . . . okay, Ms. . . . Conners," Kiel said, his weakened voice barely audible.
Owen's mother glanced at him, and he could see her lips pursed into a tight smile, her eyes shimmering with unfallen tears. She released a long sigh, turning back to the road.
He wanted to say something reassuring, but the numerous words that he'd usually say just wouldn't come. He wasn't great at comforting others, and he tended to get uncomfortable when people — specifically his friends — cried in front of him. He tried to think of the right words to say. He was used to talking constantly, and now that his voice was hardly working, it was difficult to cope with the sudden disability. The only thing he wanted to do was talk, and now that he couldn't without hurting himself, he felt weaker.
"He's . . . not . . . dead," he reassured her, mostly just reassuring himself. He had a hunch that Owen wasn't dead, but Ms. Conners probably didn't have that same hunch. Owen was most likely just missing, but . . . what if he was dead? Kiel felt an unpleasant shiver run through him at the idea. He shoved it away — the thought of losing his best friend for good — and returned back to the present moment.
Her head snapped in his direction, her white-knuckled hands curling tighter around the wheel. "Thank you for saying that, Kiel. All this time . . . I haven't — I haven't known if he's alive o-or —" She wiped her eyes again, sniffling. "Or if he's . . . you know. H-He hasn't contacted me, so I really don't know. It's been three years of not knowing where he is, a-and I wouldn't be surprised if he's . . ."
"If . . . he's . . . dead?" Kiel supplied softly, finishing her sentence.
Slowly, she nodded. "I don't want to believe that. I really don't. That's the last thing a mother wants, you know? But I don't know what to think. I've tried calling him, I had the police look for him — I tried everything."
"Don't worry . . . he's . . . alive," Kiel rasped, trying to sound encouraging. "One day . . . he'll . . . come . . . home."
Ms. Conners reached across the divider and squeezed him lightly on the shoulder. "You're very nice for saying that. I . . . I really hope that one day he will. It's been so long since I've seen him. Too long."
Kiel nodded in understanding, not knowing what to say. He knew exactly how she felt. It had been forever since he'd talked to his best friends, his real best friends. He talked to Bethany often, but it wasn't the real her. She was a different person without her real memories. Then there was Owen, who he felt lost without. He wondered where he had gone, and why he had left. This mystery was confusing for Kiel to wrap his head around.
A few minutes later, they pulled up into the driveway of Owen's house. In too much pain to speak anymore, Kiel wordlessly opened the car door and stepped out into the cold night air. Grabbing his bag from inside, he stepped back from the car and slammed the door shut.
Ms. Conners stepped out after him, shutting the door on the driver's side. She looked over at Kiel. "You sure you're alright to walk home? I could drop you off, if you want."
Kiel waved off the offer. "No. Thanks."
"Are you really fine with walking home on your own?" Ms. Conners asked dubiously.
He nodded.
"Alright. Well, just make sure that you don't get into any more fights. And remember what the doctors said: you need lots of rest, and plenty of water, too. You probably shouldn't go to school until you're sure that you're better."
"No?"
Owen's mother laughed. "I wouldn't, if I were you. Be safe, alright, Kiel? If you need anything, I'll be working at the library all week."
Kiel winked. "Got . . . it."
She took a few steps forward, then slipped something into the palm of his hand. He looked down at it, and was surprised to see twenty dollars in his hand. His head darted back upwards, feeling hopeful as he searched her face for answers. How did she know he needed it?
Before he could thank her, she began peppering him with a few questions. After a minute of this, she reluctantly allowed him to walk home on his own. Ms. Conners wished him good-night, then went up to the porch, opening the door and walking inside.
Kiel let out a tired sigh, fog drifting from his mouth. Rubbing his freezing hands over his body, he walked behind the car until he was completely hidden from anyone's view. Satisfied that no one was watching, Kiel took out his teleportation button and pressed it, watching as the dark outside world vanished, replaced by the inside of a house.
It was dark, although not as dark as it was outside. He was beyond exhausted, both from the fight and from the long turn of events in the hospital. Falling silent, Kiel could hear the loud snores coming from the other room — unmistakably Elijah's. He heaved a sigh of relief; he didn't want to be confronted about what happened with Oliver. Not right now.
Removing his belongings and dropping them carelessly to the floor, Kiel trudged into his room, too tired to even think or worry about anything. At this point, his mind refused to work. Before he knew it, he was already laying in bed, his body aching painfully with every breath he took. He barely remembered his sleep-deprived ascent to his room, nor did he remember much of the day's events. Within the first few minutes of him laying in bed, he fell into a fitful sleep. And for once, he didn't dream about anything.
The next morning was the start of the weekend, and the snow that had been pouring down from the heavens had finally subsided. It was slightly warmer today, maybe because it'd finally stopped snowing. The clouds parted, revealing a sapphire sky and a bright, far-away sun that penetrated itself into Bethany's eyes.
She hopped out of her mother's car, waving goodbye as her mother drove back home. She walked up to the front doors of the school, placing a gloved hand on the frozen knob and turning it. This was the first day that the book club would be opening again, and she was glad that at least something would be returning to normal.
Bethany walked through the empty school hallway, going in the direction of the library. She only came here for the book club meetings; she preferred to go to her usual library which was only ten minutes away from her house.
As she pushed open the double doors, the chatter of high-pitched voices filled her ears. All of the girls — five in total — were there, sitting around a circle of beanbag chairs and each holding a book. To her disappointment, Liz was not there; she was probably still stuck in bed with the flu.
"Bethany! Nice of you to join us." To her surprise, Mrs. Ugliano, the elderly woman who hosted the book club, was sitting among the girls. The rest of the girls fell silent and turned at her arrival.
A smile surfaced on Bethany's face, mostly hiding the shock that she felt. "You're back?"
The old woman nodded. "As you might imagine, I was a bit reluctant to come back after the . . ." Mrs. Ugliano averted her eyes and picked up a book. "Have you girls read anything new?"
The others shook their heads.
"No. The last time we were assigned a book to read was basically three weeks ago," Julia, a popular girl who only wanted extra credit for joining an extra curricular after-school activity, said.
"Oh, okay. Have any of you read the book I assigned you three weeks ago?"
Two of the girls nodded, Bethany included. The rest of the group shook their heads.
"I didn't think you'd be coming back after the —" a girl started to say, but her friend, Abby, nudged her in the side. "Mary, shut up!"
"Alright, then. I'm going to assign you a new book," the old woman said, shakily getting to her feet and slowly walking over to a long, wooden table. She grabbed a pile of books, the proceeded to hand one to each of the girls. "It's a classic novel. I read it a long time ago, when I was a young girl. Maybe not that much older than you are now."
"If she's making us read some old 1800s book, I'll probably fall asleep from boredom while reading it," Julia told Abby with a laugh. Bethany had to restrain herself from yelling at the girl. At least Mrs. Ugliano's taste in books was refreshing! She loved the chance to read new, invigorating books.
Bethany watched as Mrs. Ugliano passed around each book, then received one of her own. It was Anne of Green Gables, which shouldn't have surprised her, but somehow it did. The book was thin, paperback, and had some scrapes; obviously it was a reused copy from someone else. She looked down at the cover, observing the smiling red-headed girl who stood in front of a small house and a green landscape.
Unlike most of the other classics, this was one that Bethany had never read before. She knew her mother was into these kinds of books when she was younger, like Little House On The Prairie and Gone With The Wind. She had watched the movies, of course, but she tended to stay away from books that her mother found entertaining. However, she did have an undying love for The Wonderful Wizard of Oz and Island of The Blue Dolphins, as well as Alice's Adventures In Wonderland and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. She had grown up with those books, and they'd always hold a special place in her heart, no matter how old she got.
They spent the rest of the book club discussing what they knew about Anne of Green Gables, and what they thought the book was about. Strangely enough, most of the girls knew bits and pieces based on what they'd heard. Bethany already knew some things about it, like how Anne was an orphan and that she ended up marrying a boy named Gilbert. She also knew that the story took place on Prince Edward Island, which was located near Canada.
Over the span of an hour, time seemed to fly by. The girls hadn't even finished discussing the book before the book club meeting ended, and it was time for them to leave. Bethany rose to her feet, her new book in the crook of her arm. She glanced back at Mrs. Ugliano, who was slowly packing her purse. She opened her mouth, meaning to say something about the attack, but she realized that she didn't know how to say anything comforting. That was probably the reason she didn't have many friends: she wasn't the best at comforting.
Instead, what came out of Bethany's mouth was entirely different. "I've been wanting to show you this new book I got." Okay, so maybe she had wanted to say that. She hadn't told a single person about seeing her own name in a book; it was too weird to say to anyone. She was planning to say it to Liz, but lately her friend seemed pretty distracted. But Mrs. Ugliano shared her love of books, and she was elderly, so Bethany didn't think she'd be laughed at.
"Oh?" The old woman turned, a relaxed smile on her face. Bethany took Pick The Plot out of her backpack and showed it to her. She studied the cover, then turned it around and read the description on the book. "Hmm. From the looks of it, it's like one of those dystopian novels that you kids like reading. And it's very long, too. And heavy!"
"It is," Bethany agreed, trying not to get too off-track. "But, the strange part is that my name keeps popping up! See?" She opened to the first chapter, flipping through until she found her name. Then she flipped forward a few more pages, and there it was again. "But there aren't any characters in this book who are named Bethany. And every time I read it, I get this strange feeling." She let out a nervous chuckle. "Almost like I'm a character."
"Ah." Mrs. Ugliano patted her hand, peering at the open pages of the book. "You've been blessed."
"I have?" she responded, crinkling her eyebrows. "But my name is in a book. And when I see it in there, I get the weirdest feeling."
"Bethany." The old woman sighed, offering her a smile. "You're lucky, that's all. Many girls don't get to see their names in books. Even I haven't seen my name in a book. My first name is Carol, so you can imagine the difficulty with that."
Bethany smiled, feeling a bit more relieved. "Oh. Okay. That's good to hear." She moved to the door, pocketing her two books into her backpack. "Have a nice weekend. I'll see you on Monday for the next meeting."
Mrs. Ugliano waved her off. "Tell your mother I said hello."
"I will!"
When Bethany got home, she removed her phone from it's spot in her coat and dialed a number. After a few rings, Liz answered. "Bethany! How is —" Before she could finish her sentence, she was overcome with a coughing fit.
Bethany winced, feeling sympathetic. "You aren't getting any better?"
"Nope," came the reply, Liz's voice ragged.
"Can I stop over tonight?" Bethany asked, transferring her weight from one foot to the other. "A lot of . . . weird stuff happened yesterday."
"What —" Liz coughed again. "What do you mean? Are you okay?"
She shook her head, not realizing at first that Liz couldn't see her facial expression over the phone. "Yeah, I'm okay. I'll tell you about it when I see you."
"Okay. But don't come over. You can tell me when I get back to school."
"Good point. I'd rather not get sick."
"I'll probably see you —" Liz began, coughing again. "On Monday, or Tuesday. Maybe Wednesday. Whenever this stupid flu sickness goes away. It's terrible. I've been sick since Thursday night!"
"Ha." Bethany smiled. "That's more of a reason to come to school. You're already missing so much homework . . ."
"Yeah, but I don't care about homework as much as you do. You're a bookoholic. Schooloholic. Whatever you want to call it.
"Kind of insulting when you put it that way, but true."
As soon as she hung up, Bethany put on a long-sleeved shirt and stretch pants, also sliding on a pair of sneakers. After a minute of stretching, she left her house and ran to the library.
Ever since she was forced into joining the track team last year, she had tried to make more of a habit of running when she could. For all of middle school she was never the athletic type, and even now she wasn't the type of person who exercised every single day. But at the start of high school, her mom had urged her to participate in some sort of extracurricular activity besides reading, so that's what she did. Ever since joining the track team, Bethany had learned that exercising was actually important, and going for a run was a good way to block out all thoughts.
She wasn't doing track this year, at least not in the winter. Bethany wanted to stay as safe as possible; it was too slippery at this time of year, and she didn't want to accidentally break an ankle. But today was an exception, because the snow and ice on the sidewalk had melted, which made it an easy runway. The walk itself was only ten minutes, so running meant she'd get there much faster.
Panting, Bethany ran to her usual destination, the cold wind whipping across her face and sending a chill through her body. By the time she came to a stop outside of the library, her body felt slightly numb, although she was considerably warmer than she was a couple of minutes ago. She cupped her hands over her ears, trying to rub the cold out of them. When she finally stopped gasping for air, Bethany walked through the sliding glass doors. Immediately, she was met with the warm air conditioning, and she shivered.
The library was quieter than usual. Bethany looked around her favorite hideout, letting the beautiful smell of books seep into her nose. She felt a little more peaceful just by being here.
Instead of going straight to the children's section, however, Bethany made her way to the computers that lined the wall. She wasn't exactly sure what had drawn her to them; she didn't have any papers to write. Out of curiosity, she powered on the computer and clicked onto the "history" tab, scrolling down the list of recently viewed websites. She was surprised to see that there were almost fifty tabs that were related to Germany. She clicked onto one of them, which was on YouTube. A video started to play about how to speak and sound German.
Interesting.
Bethany closed the tab and opened another recently viewed one, which stated facts about Germany. What in the world? She closed that tab and looked through the others, which all had something to do with speaking, or sounding, or learning German. Then, something registered in her brain, and she sat back in the chair, her eyes widening.
No way . . . she thought, feeling disbelief, followed by disappointment, then a surprising burst of anger. Suddenly, this all clicked with what Oliver Bines had told her. Because of what he'd told her yesterday, the only person she could suspect for this was Kiel. Who else would be watching these videos and reading these websites? Oliver had said that Kiel wasn't from Germany, and that he was faking his identity. He was only pretending to be a German student. As Bethany stared at the screen, with growing realization, it dawned on her that Oliver was completely right, and everything he had told her was true.
Kiel was faking it this whole time. The rumors were true.
By late morning — nearly the afternoon — Kiel finally awoke to a pillow being smacked soundly against his head. He gasped, and his eyes flew open as he listened to the familiar sound of his friend's voice calling his name. He groggily rolled over, closing his eyes again and taking a slow breath, wincing as a soreness creeped up his ribs and stomach.
"You sleep like the dead!" Elijah exclaimed, grabbing the pillow and tossing it back against Kiel's head. "I've been calling you for hours. How late did you get home last night?"
"Don't . . . know," Kiel said, then flinched at the use of his own voice. The events of yesterday came flooding back to him: being threatened and nearly choked to death, and the frantic ride to the hospital. He shot up, trying his best to ignore the ever-present pain. He lifted a hand to his neck, making an attempt to massage it, then quickly pulled it away with a gasp.
Elijah frowned, his face paling. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"
"It was . . . Oliver," Kiel rasped, showing Elijah his neck.
His friend gasped. "That boy attacked you again? How did it happen?"
"Tried . . . talking . . . to . . . Bethany. When I . . . went . . . outside . . . he was . . . there."
Elijah's expression hardened, and he started walking to the door. Kiel slowly propped himself against the bed frame, watching with anticipation. "Where . . . are you . . . going?"
"To find where this boy lives and get rid of him. He's gone too far!"
"I . . . agree," Kiel said with an nod, then winced a little at the movement. "But . . . he'll just . . . defeat . . . you . . . again, Elijah. Until I . . . can use . . . my . . . forget . . . spell on . . . him . . . and wipe . . . his . . . memory, there's . . . not . . . much else . . . we . . . can do."
Then he remembered something, and his face brightened as he retrieved the gift from Ms. Conners. He flashed the money at Elijah. "See . . . this? It's . . . money."
"You found some!" Elijah said, a smile forming on his face as he leaned closer to get a better look. "What, so is it gonna take away our Oliver problem?"
"Not . . . exactly," Kiel said with a wink, slowly sliding his tired legs over the bed and starting to get to his feet. "But . . . it'll . . . solve . . . our food . . . problem."
It was the first time Kiel had ever eaten at a restaurant—a diner, as this was called—and he was feeling more and more confused by the minute. He sat across from Elijah at a small table, who seemed just as confused as the waitress asked for their orders.
"Orders?" Kiel repeated, exchanging a look with Elijah. "What . . . do you . . . mean?"
The waitress looked slightly caught off guard. "Oh, wow. Did you lose your voice?"
He shrugged, trying not to let the reminder Of his new weakness upset him. "Something . . . like . . . that. What . . . orders?"
She wrinkled her nose. "Your food. What do you want to eat?"
"Oh." He winked. "Thanks for the confirmation."
She sighed. "What do you want to eat?"
Elijah glanced down at his menu. "Hmm. I'm not familiar with this . . . cheese . . . bur . . . ger?"
The waitress nodded, then scribbled something on her notepad. "Okay. A cheese burger. Anything you want on it?"
"Like what?"
"Cheeseburgers . . . usually have . . . lettuce, that . . . red fruit, and . . . um . . ." Kiel thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers. "Onions! That's . . . what . . . they're called."
Elijah nodded, smiling. "Okay. I'll have onions."
The waitress raised her eyebrows. "Have you never had a cheeseburger before?"
Kiel laughed automatically, then coughed as pain coursed through his body. "You'd . . . be . . . surprised . . . what we . . . have . . . eaten."
She didn't look amused. She positioned her body towards him, her hand hovering over the notepad. "And what would you like?"
"A . . ." Kiel looked down at his menu. "Oh, I'll . . . have — wait . . . no. I . . . don't . . . want . . . that. I'll have . . . a . . . no. Hmm . . . that looks . . . good. Okay, let's . . . see." He scanned the page, reading each detailed paragraph under the food labels. A few minutes later when he was done, he looked back at the waitress. "I'll . . . have . . . a . . . sandwich."
The waitress's hands clenched around the side of her notepad. She smiled, but it looked a little forced. "What kind of sandwich?"
He looked down again, scrunching his eyebrows as he read the unfamiliar word. "Sell . . . am . . . ee. Salami. And . . . cheese."
"Salami and cheese sandwich." The waitress nodded, jotting down the words. "What do you want for a side? We have soup, salad, fries, or chips."
"Chips," Kiel replied, confident that he finally recognized something.
She nodded, tucking her notepad in her pocket. "Okay. Your order will be ready in about thirty minutes." She turned around and walked briskly away.
"By the way — you look like an angel today!" Elijah called after her, making an attempt to lighten the waitress's mood. The waitress glanced over her shoulder, a strained smile on her face.
"'An angel'," Kiel mocked, snickering once the waitress was out of earshot.
Elijah hit him on the arm. "Hey, laugh all you want, but I don't see you actually acknowledging your feelings for certain girls."
"That's . . . where . . . you're . . . wrong!" he replied, raising his eyebrows. "I have . . . no feelings . . . for girls. Girls . . . have . . . feelings . . . for . . . me, because . . . I'm . . . amazing."
"More and more lies just keep coming out of your mouth, don't they?"
Kiel seized the moment to take a sip of water, not wanting to be apart of this conversation for a second time. Elijah chuckled, shaking his head as he took a sip of his own drink.
Bethany noticed that Kiel was being uncharacteristically quiet as he slowly made his way over to his desk. It was Monday morning, and although it wasn't snowing, the sky was coated with gray clouds. She hadn't heard him say a single word so far, but she was inwardly glad for the quiet. She didn't want to talk to him, anyway. Not until she knew the full truth.
She glanced over at him, then quickly looked down without saying anything. Kiel didn't meet her eyes; for once, he payed attention to the teacher. This was so unlike him that she was starting to actually worry. She reminded herself that she shouldn't be concerned about him, especially if he was a complete liar. He was probably just tired.
Bethany knew from the beginning that he was faking everything. Well, no, she didn't know. But she should've known. First, Oliver had told her things about Kiel, which she was rightfully suspicious of. Because who would actually believe that? But once she thought for a long time over it, everything started to make sense.
She didn't know if Kiel was a criminal or not, but the fact that he was hiding his identity would make sense if he was a criminal. She didn't know why he was faking his entire identity — his life — just to act like someone else. It made her feel betrayed, because it meant that the new friend she had made — the nice German boy named Kiel — was a fake person. Had he even wanted to be her friend? And was his real name even Kiel? Probably not.
She had found the evidence, and it was crystal clear to her now that he was faking his whole identity. Didn't he see something wrong with that? Hadn't anyone taught him the importance of honesty? It was disturbing for someone else to lie about their whole life, but it was another thing entirely for Bethany's own friend to lie about that.
Since he was apparently faking his identity, who was he? Where was he from? Was he a spy sent from another country? Was he actually a criminal? Or was he a normal kid who just liked to lie? Now that she knew he was definitely faking it, she couldn't help but question him. Why would anyone lie about their life?
"Bethany, what is the answer to number 12?"
Bethany blinked. She quickly returned to the present moment: math class. Some of her classmates looked over at her, awaiting her response with their pencils hovered over their notebooks. "Oh, uh . . ." She glanced down at her sheet of homework from last night. "The answer is 45."
The teacher nodded. "Yes. That's correct."
Sighing in relief, Bethany tuned the teacher out and returned to her thoughts. She knew she should be focusing on the lesson, but her mind refused to cooperate. She wondered why — with slight annoyance — she was still wasting her time on some boy. Why did she care so much? She should just focus on schoolwork.
Because you were friends, and you found out two days ago that he's a liar, a voice in the back of Bethany's head said. Well, maybe. She didn't know for sure, but she had some pretty clear evidence to back her theory up.
Right. Were friends, "were" being the key word. Kiel wasn't even talking to her, anyway. He seemed set on ignoring her, so she really should stop thinking about him. She forced herself to focus on the teacher, listening to the words but they weren't completely registering in her brain.
A week later, Bethany was walking to lunch by herself, surrounded by hundreds of other students who were on their way to the same destination. There were only two days before winter break, which came as an excitement to her. She wasn't the biggest advocate of holidays, and she tended to prefer the less popular ones, like Halloween. Even still, she liked the fact that she could have a week off from school. She needed the break, especially for the distraction.
When she sat down at her usual table, she tried her best to hide the irritation that grew within her. Kiel was sitting at her table, just like he always was. Except lately for the past week, he wasn't positioned anywhere near her, instead sitting a few rows down. When Liz had come back to school yesterday, she asked Bethany about it. But Bethany didn't know, and neither did she really care.
A few minutes after she began eating, Liz sat down next to Bethany, looking generally healthy now that she wasn't sick anymore. She frowned, then gestured at Kiel. "He's sitting far away again."
Bethany nodded. "Yeah. So?"
"So?" Liz repeated, raising her eyebrows with a small smile forming on her face. "You didn't make him upset or anything, did you?"
Bethany almost laughed. "What? Of course not!"
Her friend nodded. "Okay. Good. But why is he sitting over there? He used to always sit across from us."
"I don't know. Maybe he wants to make new friends." Bethany threw a pointed look in his direction, but he wasn't even looking her way. He seemed to be very engrossed in his food, and he was eating at a slow pace. Why was he ignoring her all of the sudden? This didn't make any sense. First, he possibly lied about his life. Now he was being quiet and ignoring her?
At English class the next morning, Bethany decided she would talk to him. Today she would talk to him. She was done overthinking things. It wasn't going to solve anything. She would know soon enough if he was really a dangerous criminal, or if he was German or not.
Kiel,
Let's talk.
- Bethany
As quietly as she could, Bethany threw a folded piece of notebook paper at him. It hit the side of his desk and fell to the floor. She watched his eyes widen, and he looked down at the folded paper, making no effort to pick it up. His gaze drifted to her, then his expression changed as he glanced somewhere to the right.
Bethany immediately followed his gaze to the side of the room, which was where four students, including Oliver Bines, sat in a row. Either he was looking at one of the students, or he was looking at the wall behind them. Bethany turned back to him. He was looking at his notes again. She ripped another small sheet of notebook paper and scribbled on it. When she was finished, she threw the paper at him. This time, it landed lightly on his desk.
Without looking at her, Kiel grabbed the paper and unfolded it. She watched him read it, then write something down underneath her message. He glanced at her, then tossed it onto her desk. Checking to make sure the teacher wasn't watching, Bethany opened the note.
Bethany,
I can talk at lunch. But not in the cafeteria. Somewhere else.
Love, Kiel
Love? she thought, shaking her head. He had some nerve to think they were friends! Only if he wasn't a liar would they still be friends. Which he was, by the way. Bethany scribbled something back, then gave it to him.
Kiel,
What, are you being secretive now? Where would you rather meet? The cafeteria works for me. I guess that we could meet in the hallway.
- Bethany
Without looking, she tossed it back to him. It landed with a light smack on his desk. He read it for a few seconds, then wrote his reply and flung it onto her desk.
Bethany,
Of course not. The hallway works perfectly for me.
Love, Kiel
Before Bethany could began writing back, a book was slammed onto her desk. She jumped, then found herself looking up into the eyes of Mr. Tompkins. "Bethany Sanderson and Kiel Bauer! Are you almost done writing love notes to each other?"
The class began to laugh, and Bethany's face reddened. "What? We weren't —"
"Yes," Kiel responded confidently, his chin pointed upwards. "So what if we were writing notes to each other? What are you going to do about it?" It was the first thing Bethany had heard him say all week. During both class and during the lunch period, he had been quiet as a mouse, and now that she heard his voice, it sounded different — very hoarse and strained.
"I'm going to give you both detention, that's what I'll do," their English teacher replied. When Bethany started to protest, Mr. Tompkins cut her off. "Detention is the only way you're going to learn. I could let this slide, yes, but neither of you have been paying attention during this whole class. And also, I'm giving you detention for your attitude, Kiel. You need to learn that you can't talk back to your teachers."
"What's detention?" Kiel asked her as Mr. Tompkins walked back to his desk.
Bethany just shook her head, curling her hands into balls. She tried to ignore the whispers of her classmates, the pitying look from Liz, and the familiar sensation of her face burning. "Thanks a lot."
"It's okay, Bethany. I'm sure detention isn't horrible," Kiel assured her gently.
She whipped her head towards him. "I've never gotten detention before. My mom will be so mad. And it's your fault."
"My fault?" He cocked an eyebrow. "You were the one who started the note-writing, not me."
Now he was making her regret having ever made the decision to meet up with him at lunch. Bethany grumbled something unintelligible, feeling so humiliated by her actions. Why did Kiel need to embarrass her in front of the whole class again? Sure, she might've started it, but he was the one who talked back at Mr. Tompkins. Another long talk with her mother was the last thing she wanted. The very idea of it stressed her out.
By the time lunch rolled around, Bethany was sitting in her usual seat, opening her bagged lunch as she waited for Liz to arrive. She looked around as students gradually moved through the food line, talked to their friends, and sat down at their tables. Her own table was slowly filling up, but she didn't see who she was expecting to see.
She ate quietly, glancing around her every now and then. Liz was still in the lunch line, which seemed to be ten times longer than normal. One by one, the other kids who shared her long table sat down.
After ten minutes, Bethany sighed, crumbling up her lunch bag. Of course he wasn't coming to lunch. Now, she'd probably have to talk to him during detention. She couldn't wait that long —
Kiel came into view, pushing past a group of boys who were standing around. He looked over at the other students who sat at their table, then took the seat diagonally across from Bethany. She raised her eyebrows at his late appearance.
"Long line," he explained, opening the lid of his bottled water and taking a sip of it. "Do you still want to talk?"
Bethany hesitated, then nodded. She watched as Kiel turned his attention to his meal, which consisted of a sandwich with a side of French fries. He took a bite of his sandwich, then began poking at his French fries in suspicion, his eyes level with the table as he scrutinized his meal.
After a few minutes of watching him do this, Bethany sighed loudly. He was taking this German act way too far. All Europeans knew what fries were! It was common knowledge, wasn't it?
Sure, she didn't like him too much anymore. But until she confronted him about the rumors and suspicions, she wouldn't know whether he was a liar or not. He seemed like a very good actor, Bethany observed. Maybe too good. But that didn't mean she could let him make a fool out of himself. "They're not gonna kill you. They're just French fries."
"They're French?"
Seriously? He was playing the dumb card? She leaned across the table and popped one in her mouth. "No. That's just what they're called."
"Cool name." Kiel sat up and plucked one from the pile. He chewed on it for a few seconds, looking thoughtful. A grin formed on his face. "Wow." Then his smile dropped a little. "They're a little salty, but still good."
She watched him for a little, trying to come up with things to say that might make him confess about his true identity. He had to feel at least a little guilty for lying, right? If he wouldn't confess to her, she needed to try finding the truth out herself. "So, what town did you say you grew up in?"
Kiel momentarily stopped eating. "Germany. You know that."
Bethany nodded. "What part of Germany?"
"The . . . north."
Huh. He wasn't saying any names. Which gave her some more evidence that he clearly was pretending to be German. "Won't you tell me what town?"
He cracked a sideways smile. "It might cost you something in return."
"Like what?"
"I don't know. More fries?"
Despite herself, she laughed. She quickly tried to cover it up with a cough. At that moment, she spotted Oliver striding over to their table.
Kiel was wide-eyed as he said, "I need to go."
He stood up, gathering his tray and keeping a wide berth between him and Oliver. He became lost in the crowd of kids. Oliver was smiling as sat down where Kiel had been sitting. "That was weird. I wonder what that was all about."
Bethany shifted in her seat. "I don't know. What's up? Do you need help with English, or something?"
"No." Oliver shook his head, straightening his glasses. He looked at the other kids who sat at the table, all engrossed in their food or talking with each other. He turned back to Bethany, leaning slightly forward. "Did you confront him yet?"
"About what?"
"You know what," he said, quiet enough for her to hear. He took a bite out of his apple.
"I've been meaning to," Bethany said, lowering her voice to prevent anyone else from hearing.
She swallowed, then rose from her chair, scraping it loudly against the floor. "I'll be right back. If Liz shows up, will you tell her I'm going to the bathroom?"
Oliver nodded, seemingly buying Bethany's lie. She walked briskly across the cafeteria and pushed open the door, out into the empty hallway.
Kiel watched as Bethany purposefully walked out of the cafeteria, her lunch bag disposed of. Without thinking, he sprung from his chair and followed after her, practically running. He pushed the cafeteria door open and glanced left, then right. He saw her walking several feet away from him, though he wasn't sure where she was going.
"Beth," Kiel said loudly, walking after her. He quickly caught up with her. "Can we talk?"
Bethany turned around, her expression unreadable. Then she nodded. She grabbed him by the wrist and opened the door of a nearby supply closet, pulling him in.
"Why are we hiding in here?" he asked in an amused tone, though he wasn't against it. At least Oliver couldn't spy on their conversation again.
Bethany didn't answer. It was dark inside, so she flicked on a switch. A single light bulb hung by a string above them, giving Kiel barely enough light to see by. But he could see her face, and she didn't look happy.
"What's wrong?" Kiel asked quietly. "You haven't talked to me this whole week. Really except for today."
"What?" she said. "You're one to talk. You haven't been talking to me, either."
He looked down, scratching the back of his neck. After his fight with Oliver, he'd tried to stay away from Bethany to avoid further injury. He also had taken the many days to rest his voice, his vocal cords having taken a toll ever since getting choked. His voice was still very hoarse and painful, he could tell. But now, at least he could speak full sentences without having to take many breaks.
"That's because —"
"You're not from Germany, are you," Bethany said. It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Kiel felt the sudden urge to punch Oliver, and if he hadn't just been nearly choked to death just last week, he probably would have. It was clear now that Oliver had already succeeded. Bethany believed him.
"That," he said, taking a small step back. "Is a great question." Even if it wasn't a question, he wanted to somehow skirt around the topic.
"What's your answer?"
"Why do you care where I'm from?" Kiel asked. "It doesn't have anything to do with—"
Bethany cut him off. "Can you please just answer the question?"
"Fine. I'm not from Germany," he confirmed, wondering how much he could tell her without driving her away. "Actually, I'm from another world."
A frown formed on her lips. "What do you mean? Are you actually from America? Or a different country? I know you're not from around here, but you're definitely not from Germany. So where do you live, if you need to pretend you're from somewhere else? Why do you have to lie about where you're from?"
"I'm sorry. I can't tell you where I live," Kiel said, inwardly cringing as he said this. He wanted to tell her the truth, but he knew she didn't remember anything, anyway. He wouldn't tell her everything. Not yet. It wasn't the right time with Oliver still lurking around.
"How come?" she pressed. "Is it because you want people to like you, or something? Or because you are a complete liar and you don't want anyone to know where you really live?"
Kiel's eyes widened. "Bethany, I swear I'm not lying for a bad reason. You just don't understand."
Bethany's expression didn't change. "I don't get what your problem is or why you need to lie about your life, but trust me — once the teachers know you aren't from Germany, you'll be kicked out of here. You're breaking so many rules by doing this."
"What?" This was going much worse than Kiel had even thought it would. He had to convince her somehow. "You can't do that. I'm not even doing anything wrong. Really, I think you're just jealous of me!"
She scoffed. "What? Jealous?"
"Yeah! Because I'm awesome. Sorry if I made you angry, or whatever, but you have to trust me. I didn't lie about anything except for where I'm from. I lied about me being from Germany, because I really want to live there. Is that what you want to hear? I faked the accent. I watched some videos on the Int-ee-net so I could seem convincing." Mentally, Kiel high-fived himself. This sounded convincing enough to win Bethany over as his friend.
"Whatever. But just so you know, your accent sounds fake. Maybe you should watch a few more videos."
Bethany turned around and started walking out of the supply closet, shaking her head.
"You've never even been to Germany!" The words flew from Kiel's mouth, and he quickly shut it. She had told him once, when she was twelve, that she'd never even been out of the country before.
Bethany slowly turned around. "Okay, this time you really are a stalker. How do you know I've never been to Germany? I've never told anyone that I haven't been out of the United States."
He froze. "I asked . . . Liz."
"Why?"
"I just wanted to know who in our class has been to Germany. She said she didn't think you had before."
Rolling her eyes, she turned back around and continued walking back into the empty hallway. As he watched her go, he cringed a little. He wasn't the best at lying, but it was true, he had done it for the right reason. He had only pretended to be German because otherwise everyone would've found out that he was actually Kiel Gnomenfoot.
Kiel couldn't take it anymore. He knew he had to convince her somehow, but he was really getting annoyed with her right now. Why did she have to be so suspicious of everything?
He followed her out of the supply closet. "Either way, how would you know that I'm not from Germany, huh? If it makes you feel better, you should prove it to the school that I'm not from there. I'm sure they'll find plenty of evidence."
She flashed him a look. "I already know you're not. I saw your videos on the computer."
"You . . . what?" Kiel forced a laugh. "Oh, those. You're right. Those were my videos. They're very educational, I have to say."
Bethany's eyebrows shot up. "And what about the part about you being a criminal?"
"A criminal?" He scratched his head. "Oh. You're talking about the boy who attacked the lady who is in charge of your book club."
"Yes. Was that you?"
He threw her an annoyed look. "No, it wasn't. I'm not a criminal. Do you see any weapons on me? I don't know where you got that idea."
Slowly, she nodded, as if accepting this. "Okay. So you're not a criminal. That's . . . that's good to know."
He shrugged nonchalantly, then smiled. "So can we put all of this behind us and be friends, now?"
Bethany crosses her arms, looking at him with disbelief. "Kiel, you lied about your whole life. How could I even want to be friends with you?"
"I didn't lie, not about everything. Sure, I'm not from Germany. But what's so bad about that? If you can't handle the fact that I'm trying to be your friend —"
She let out a short, annoyed laugh. "No, I don't think so. I don't want to be your friend. I don't care how many girls want to date you. You're a complete liar. Stop following me around."
"Date? Who said anything about that?" Kiel questioned, but she shoved past him and walked back towards the cafeteria. He was left wondering what she meant by girls wanting to date him. The only thing he'd done was try to earn Bethany's trust, and he had lost it within the first three weeks of him being here.
"The seed of all this indecision isn't me, oh no. 'Cause I decided long ago. But that's the way it seems to go, when trying so hard to get to something real . . ."