In 2024, fourteen-year-old Lucy Sampson used an experimental computer mouse to travel back in time. With no project or clearly defined mission to guide her, she must adapt to the different roles time gives her, setting right what once went wrong, and hope that her next leap will be the leap home.
Lucy blinked.
The first thing she noticed was the temperature of the air - while it was still hot, it was not as hot as it had been in Egypt. That meant only one thing - she was back in America.
Then the sounds came to her ear - the tweeting of birds, the honking of cars, and the thumping beat of "Low" by Flo Rida. They invited her to look around.
She was standing at the edge of a rubber running track, separated from the rest of the world by a tall metal fence. On the other side were skyscrapers and modern but not present-day cars.
"So glad to be back in the modern day," said Lucy.
Suddenly, a voice erupted from behind her. "Paula, what are you waiting for? Get moving, seven laps!"
She turned around to see a tall Hispanic-looking man with short hair and a sports shirt standing behind her. He looked like some kind of coach.
"I said, get moving!" said the man.
Realizing that he was talking to her, Lucy sprinted to the track and began running counterclockwise around it.
She was a little surprised when she noticed she easily kept pace with the other runners, since she suddenly remembered that due to her comparative lack of exercise, she often stopped and panted after running just short distances. She figured that Paula must be some kind of training freak and that she was experiencing her leapee's enhanced physical characteristics.
As she circuited the track, she took in the sights. There were people picnicking on the grass, walking their dogs, and even holding posters for Barack Obama and John McCain. That meant it was the year of an election - according to the posters, 2008 - but she wasn't sure about the exact date.
A few minutes later, she completed the seventh lap, stopping to pant in front of the coach.
"Good job, Paula," congratulated the coach. "Your time is 15 minutes and 25.9 seconds. That's a new record!"
The coach showed Lucy the phone he was using to time her. She recognized it as an iPhone, but it wasn't like the one she used at home - it was smaller and had a circular button with a square symbol on the bottom, while the operating system had an ugly font and not-so-convincing 3D effects on everything.
"I know this might sound weird," said Lucy, "but what's today's date?"
Without saying a word, the coach closed the Clock app and opened Calendar, which confirmed that it was indeed 2008, specifically Monday, June 9.
Lucy's eyes widened. It was two years before she was born, but thanks to her research, she knew this time was interesting. She was excited to explore it.
But the coach, unable to read her mind, didn't know what she was thinking about. "Cool phone, huh? I'm probably the only one in Corona with one of these babies."
"Corona where?" asked Lucy, a little spooked due to her sudden memories of COVID times.
"Queens, New York," replied the coach, a little confused. "You know, the place we're in right now?"
"Oh, yeah, right," said Lucy softly. "How could I forget?"
Suddenly, a loud honk pierced the air. Lucy and the coach turned to see a 2008 Honda Accord park within feet of them.
The passenger's side window rolled down, revealing a middle-aged man and woman.
"Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Serin," greeted the coach. "What brings you here so early?"
"Where is our daughter?" demanded the woman loudly.
"Paula? She's right here. We've just started wa-"
"Get in the car, now!" interrupted the woman, her voice sharp with irritation.
Not knowing what else to do, Lucy boarded the car and sat in the passenger seat, glancing nervously at the woman's stiff expression.
As her husband silently drove away, Mrs. Serin turned to Lucy, her voice tight. "What were you doing with that Richard guy?"
"Uh, running?" replied Lucy, unsure of what else to say.
Mrs. Serin clicked her tongue in disapproval. "How many times do I have to tell you? Running will get you nowhere. Just look at you. You're filthy!"
Lucy looked down, noticing she was wearing jogging pants and a running shirt not unlike the coach's. They were sweaty and wrinkly, but they weren't as dirty as Mrs. Serin implied them to be.
"There's extra clothes in the trunk," added Mrs. Serin curtly. "Change when we get to the music school."
"Why are we going to the music school?" asked Lucy, a little confused.
"For your flute practice, remember?" Mrs. Serin shot her a look as though this should have been obvious.
"Wait, flute practice?" Lucy echoed, her confusion deepening.
The adults didn't answer, but the car came to a stop in front of an unassuming brick building. A simple sign above the door read "Young Mozarts Music School."
Mrs. Serin opened Lucy's door and handed her a change of clothes with a tight smile. "Good luck, Paula!"
Lucy hesitated for a moment before stepping into the building. It looked like a school in an anime, with doors and large glass windows lining the halls.
She quickly found her way to the bathroom, which was located in a narrow side hall. She stared at the mirror, noticing Paula's hazel eyes, freckles, and long blonde hair tied in a ponytail, before changing into a slightly worn T-shirt and soft jeans.
Once she got out, she was greeted by a middle-aged man with graying sideburns and round-frame glasses. "Oh, Paula, there you are. I've been looking all over for you. You're very, very late for class."
Lucy walked a few steps in a random direction before suddenly realizing something. "Wait, where's my class again?"
The man giggled. "Don't be silly, Paula! You're in the flute class for twelve-year-olds."
"Are you my teacher?"
"The one and only Teacher Oscar, the best flute player on this side of Queens."
Lucy followed Oscar to room 107. It reminded her of a middle school classroom, with a blackboard on the front and colorful hand-crafted and printed decorations. The only difference was that there was only one chair facing a stand for sheet music.
"Okay, Paula," said the teacher, "do you still remember the C major scale?"
Lucy suddenly broke into a cold sweat. The arts weren't exactly her strong suit, and music was no exception.
She glanced at her pocket to ask for Boop's help, but she was shocked to find her mouse companion wasn't there.
With no idea what else to do, she just did random fingerings without knowing what notes she produced.
A sense of dread overtook her as she saw a frown form on Oscar's face, fearing that he would berate her or something. Luckily, all he said was "You need some work. Can you try that again?"
She played a series of eight random notes, a little more confident this time.
Oscar scribbled something in his notebook, then walked up to Lucy. "Look, I know you're not interested in flute playing, but it shouldn't be an excuse to keep doing poorly. You've barely improved since we've started lessons, and you don't want your parents to know that, right?"
Lucy didn't know what to say. If she admitted she had no idea how to play, it might blow her cover. If she promised to do better, she might end up in even bigger trouble.
"I… I guess I'll try harder," said Lucy softly, trying to deflect attention.
"I'm counting on that, Paula," replied Oscar. "Always remember that music isn't just about hitting the right notes - it's about expressing something."
Lucy nodded weakly, clutching the flute tighter. Expressing something. She couldn't even express herself right now - let alone through music.
"How about this?" offered Oscar. "Let's forget the scales for a while. Play whatever comes to your mind. Anything. Just try to make it flow."
Lucy put the flute to her mouth, ready to play utter chaos, but Oscar noticed it was already 6 PM.
"I guess your performance can wait for Wednesday," chuckled Oscar.
Lucy exhaled a sigh of relief and ran back outside, where she saw Paula's parents waiting for her beside their car.
"So, how was the lesson?" asked Mr. Serin.
"I, uh, need some practice," replied Lucy shyly.
"Well, you need as much as you can, since there's a big recital on Friday," added Mrs. Serin. "You know I don't want you to get anything less than a standing ovation."
As Lucy walked back to the car, she felt a chill run down her spine. She had only four days to master something she had no idea how to do. But if it was what she needed to do to complete the leap, then she had to prepare as soon as possible.
A few minutes later, Paula's parents drove Lucy to their home.
It was a small apartment above a bodega. The living room, kitchen, and dining room - which, contrary to Lucy's expectations, were clean and well-furnished - blended seamlessly with each other, while a short hallway led to the private rooms.
Feeling tired, Lucy searched for Paula's room, but she was stopped by Mrs. Serin's shrill whistle.
"Is something wrong, Mom?" asked Lucy.
"Are you forgetting something?" replied Mrs. Serin. She glanced at a piece of paper attached to the fridge, which detailed a strict schedule for Paula - school or home tutoring from 8 AM to 4 PM every weekday, flute lessons every Monday and Friday from 5 to 6 PM, flute practice at home every day at 6 to 7 PM, and homework and studies every day from 7 to bedtime at 8 PM.
"Of course not. I'm going to practice in my room."
"You know the rules, Paula. All practice must be done here, where we can monitor your progress."
"I'll just go, uh, get my flute," said Lucy, both to delay things and to release her frustration over having to be watched.
Without saying a word, Mrs. Serin firmly laid Paula's flute on the dining table.
"I mean, uh, my flute book," corrected Lucy.
"Okay," sighed Mrs. Serin. "But be quick."
Lucy quickly searched the hallway and found Paula's room at the very end. The narrow space had bright pink walls decorated with stickers and posters of Kim Possible and Alicia Keys, and a small desk with books and an iMac computer whose mouse was being possessed by Boop.
"Oh, Boop, there you are," said Lucy hurriedly. "I'd love to click around, but I'm pressed for time."
"It's alright, Lucy," replied Boop. "I'll be here on standby mode until you're ready." She closed her virtual eyes and snuggled as best as her mouse body could. "Just click me if you need me."
Lucy quickly grabbed the flute book on the desk and rushed back to the dining table, where Mrs. Serin was tapping her foot in impatience.
"Finally," sighed Mrs. Serin. "I thought you'd never come. Now show me your scales."
Lucy turned the book to the beginning, which contained a handy chart about flute fingerings and the notes they correspond with. She skimmed it and played the C major scale, which, surprisingly enough, didn't sound too bad.
"Very good, Paula!" congratulated Mrs. Serin. "I don't know why your teacher is saying you're not improving. You did a lot better than yesterday."
Lucy smiled a little. At this rate, she can ace the recital in no time.
"Okay," said Mrs. Serin, "let's move on to the D major scale."
But before Lucy can flip the book to the relevant page, Mrs. Serin noticed the clock on the wall tick over to seven o'clock.
"Let's focus on that tomorrow," said the woman, "It's time to do your lessons."
This time, she got the materials from Paula's room. She plopped a math textbook in front of Lucy, forcing her out of her half-asleep state.
"Do pages 158 and 159," ordered Mrs. Serin, as if she was the teacher.
Lucy turned the book to the pages Paula's mother indicated. It was a section with word problems on ratio and proportion - which was easy for someone geeky like Lucy.
She answered the questions in record time, which surprised Mrs. Serin.
"Why were you so fast?" asked the woman, both shocked and a little offended. "Did you cheat or something?"
"No!" screamed Lucy in reply. "I would never do that."
"To prove it, let's have an oral quiz."
Mrs. Serin grabbed the book from Lucy and read one of the questions aloud. "Saul's school is hosting a musical talent show. Last year, there were 10 acts, and the show lasted 60 minutes. This year, there are 15 acts. How long will this year's talent show be?"
"One and a half hours. 90 minutes."
A little puzzled by Lucy going the extra mile by converting the time answer, Mrs. Serin read another question. "The local arcade is hosting a promotion: for every 100 tickets won, a kid may claim 5 free tickets. Richie won 500 tickets. How many free tickets can he get?"
"25 free tickets."
"Jenna goes to the park every day to train for a marathon. She usually runs 24 feet in 3 seconds. How many seconds does it take for Jenna to run 96 feet-"
Without warning, Mrs. Serin threw the book at the wall.
"Is something wrong, Jenna?" asked Mr. Serin, who was busy chopping vegetables to use for dinner.
"Paula's textbook has a runner in it, David!" screamed the woman. "Didn't we agree that she shouldn't be exposed to anything related to sports?"
"If it's in the textbook, we can't do anything about it. And besides, we didn't agree on that. I disagreed, but you went ahead with it anyway."
"Stop making excuses, David!"
David barked something in reply, but Lucy blocked it out of her mind. She didn't want to listen to whatever her leapee's parents were arguing about, so she just sighed and went back to Paula's room.
She locked the door behind her, sat at the desk, and clicked on Boop.
The mouse slowly opened her eyes and virtually yawned. "Good morning, Lucy!"
"Good morning, Boop," said Lucy, patting the mouse with three fingers. "Ready to get clicking?"
"As ready as I'll ever be!"
Lucy paused for a moment, looking at the cute little mouse. "It's kinda weird how we didn't leap together like usual."
"You're right," said Boop. "I already know I leap into your leapee's computer mouse when we're in the computer age, but I didn't know we could leap separately."
"Just shows us there's still lots to discover about leaping - like what's on Paula's computer here."
Lucy pushed Boop forward and clicked. She noticed the mouse's reflection in the table mirror was a white, slightly plump wireless mouse with a gray ball instead of a scroll wheel.
The computer in front of them turned on with a startup chime. It took a few seconds for the login screen to appear, which resembled the one on Dana Tju's laptop in 2010 except for the fact the only profile was named "Paula Serin".
Lucy clicked again, and the screen flashed with code. A few seconds later, a series of dots appeared in the password field.
She tapped "return" on the wired keyboard, and she found herself on Paula's desktop.
Much like Dana's desktop, the wallpaper was a space scene with a purple, lotus-shaped aurora, dotted by a few files and blue folders.
Using the black mouse cursor, she double-clicked the file that caught her attention the most - a text file labeled "Paula's Diary."
It opened in the application Pages, revealing it to be a series of paragraphs detailing Paula's thoughts. They were each prefixed by a date and sorted in chronological order,.
Lucy read the first entry, which was dated Friday, June 6, 2008.
"Hey, Diary. Can you believe it? My parents are arguing again. This time, it's about whether I should be allowed outside. Dad says I should go out whenever I want, but Mom says I shouldn't leave unless it's for school or flute practice. I'm scared she'll win. How am I supposed to keep running? How can I ever become a great marathon runner if I'm stuck inside?"
She then scrolled to the next entry, dated Saturday, June 7.
"I saw a post on Facebook about an under-18 marathon at Linden Park. The grand prize is fifty thousand dollars! I told Mom we could use the prize money to help while she's still looking for a job, but she didn't listen. She thinks flute class is more important. Like playing the flute is magically going to solve our problems! (Don't tell Mom this, but I'm deliberately doing bad in class so they'll kick me out. Maybe then she'll finally listen to me.)"
Lucy felt a pang of regret. It was clear Paula hated playing the flute, and her effort to impress Jenna earlier only made things worse. Instead of helping Paula, she'd pushed her deeper into the mud she was trying so desperately to escape.
But if that was the case, what should Lucy do?
She scrolled to the final entry, dated to the previous day - Sunday, June 8.
"I'm so sick of being controlled by my parents. This morning, I snuck out to train with Richard at the park. I made sure to grab a bagel on the way home so they wouldn't suspect anything. It feels so free to run, even if I have to do it in secret. I just wish they could see how much this means to me."
Paula's determination to keep running no matter what struck a chord with Lucy. It was clear what needed to be done: Lucy had to help Paula train for the marathon. But with her parents so adamant about keeping Paula from chasing her dreams, how could Lucy hope to change their minds?
Lucy woke up early the next morning to the sun streaking through the thin pink curtains.
She checked the BlackBerry Bold 9000 phone on the bedside table, revealing it to be Tuesday, June 10 at 5:58 AM.
It was far too early to go to school, but it was just the right time to go on one of Paula's secret morning runs.
She changed into more exercise-friendly clothes - but not specialized running gear - making sure she was silent to avoid Paula's parents' attention.
She tiptoed out the room and checked the adults' bedroom. She quietly pushed the door open, noticing Jenna and David sleeping so soundly that it didn't look like they could be woken easily.
But Lucy didn't want to surprise them too much. She wrote a note on a piece of paper - "I'll be out for breakfast. Coming back before 8 - Paula" - and attached it to the fridge before going outside.
She ran past food stalls, tourists, pedestrians, and the occasional early-morning office worker, not stopping as she weaved through the city blocks for what seemed like miles. It must've been a result of Paula's endurance and strength, something Lucy couldn't help but marvel at.
She soon reached the running track at Linden Park, where Richard was waiting for her.
"Oh, Paula, nice to see you!" said Richard as Lucy approached him. "Didn't expect you to be out this early."
"I don't have much of a choice," sighed Lucy. "Don't tell Mom and Dad, but, I snuck out. They think I'm just getting breakfast."
Richard chuckled, oblivious to Lucy's true situation. "So, ready for this morning's training?"
Lucy nodded.
"Okay, seven laps. Go!"
Lucy quickly ran seven laps around the running track. She was surprised at how it seemed like second nature to her now, even if she wasn't exactly a runner in her home time.
When she finished, she didn't pant as much as she expected to.
"Whoa, Paula, you beat another record!" exclaimed Richard. "Your time now is 15 minutes and 10.7 seconds. You're getting better every time I see you."
"Thanks. I hope my parents appreciate it," said Lucy sadly. "By the way, what time is it?"
"6:25."
Lucy began running in place, preparing to head home as soon as possible. "By the way, do you know any good bagel shops around here?"
"There's a good one on 45th Avenue. I go there almost every day."
"Thanks!"
Lucy burst out of the park like a rocket. With help from Boop and street signs, she quickly made her way to 45th Avenue, finding a small bagel shop tucked in a narrow alleyway.
She ordered three poppyseed bagels with cream cheese, but they took so long to cook that once they were done, there was barely enough time for her to come home on foot.
There was only one thing she could do: take a New York taxi.
Lucy boarded the first yellow cab she saw. The driver was playing "Bleeding Love" by Leona Lewis, one of the many songs that reminded Lucy of her childhood. As she leaned against the window, she let the song's calming melody form the background of her self-reflection, as if she was in a music video.
But due to the light traffic, they reached Paula's home before she could finish the song.
As expected, Paula's parents were already up. Jenna was sipping coffee while David was reading the New York Times, and both had hard expressions on their faces.
"Where have you been?" asked Jenna, her tone serious.
"I just, uh, went out to get breakfast," replied Lucy, showing the bag of bagels to the adults.
Jenna stood up, banging the table with her fist. "You didn't get permission from us!"
Lucy started to shiver from Jenna's powerful voice. "I left a note on the fridge…"
Jenna turned to the fridge and noticed the note tucked between other reminders. "Okay," she sighed, "This time I'll allow it. But the next time you're going out, you need to get verbal permission from us. Is that clear?"
"Yes," said Lucy sadly, sighing deeply. She didn't want to agree, but she knew that disagreeing would just escalate things. That meant she had to find another way to sneak out of the house.
She shared the bagels with the adults. They were surprisingly good - just the right blend of chewy and crispy. She didn't remember having bagels that perfect before.
But that moment of peace was short-lived, since immediately after Lucy washed her hands, Jenna started barking at her to begin homework.
The next nine hours felt like a blur. Jenna taught Lucy on various subjects, but her behavior was nothing like a teacher's. She wasted no opportunity to berate Lucy under various pretexts.
Lucy tried many ways to get herself out of there, but Jenna kept denying her.
That was, until noontime.
It just so happened that it was time for science lessons, and the current topic was urban wildlife. The activity required Lucy to go outside and take pictures of various animals that thrive in urban environments - the perfect opportunity for her to meet Richard and practice.
Lucy excitedly grabbed the Sony Cybershot camera Jenna gave her and went outside.
She quickly took a few shots of a raccoon, a pigeon, and a squirrel, which she did by pointing the camera at the animals, adjusting the focus by swiping across Boop's surface, and clicking her to take a picture.
She then ran to Linden Park, where Richard was coaching a few teens.
"Oh, hey, Paula," he greeted as he noticed Lucy approaching. "What's with the marks on your arms?"
"It- it's nothing," lied Lucy. She was a little guilty, but she didn't want to make Richard worry about her.
"Okay," said Richard, a slight doubt evident in his voice. "Well, go to the track and start running."
Lucy began doing laps. Driven by the disappointment within her, she ran lap after lap without counting or even keeping track of time. She only stopped when she felt she was calm enough to go home.
When she did, the suffering continued as if nothing happened. Lucy had to endure Jenna's screams and slaps for the next few hours.
Finally, at 6 PM, Jenna stopped to grab the flute.
Lucy took this opportunity to sneak outside and continue training. She tiptoed to the front door, but to her dismay, it was locked by three chain-type locks.
She tried to unchain the locks as quickly as she could, but in her hurry her hands trembled and she wasn't able to remove any of them.
"Where do you think you're going?"
Lucy slowly turned around, shivering with a cold sweat, to see Jenna staring menacingly at her.
"Get back here!" ordered Jenna. "Play your practice song for me. And make it perfect!"
This time, she played as bad as she could. If she was a stand-up comedian, she would get a standing ovation, but unfortunately for her, Jenna was expecting a maestro.
"What happened to you, Paula?" berated Jenna. "You were already so good yesterday. Play it from the top. Now!"
But Lucy wasn't willing to back down. "I've had enough of you forcing me to play the flute! From now on, I quit!"
She threw the flute backwards and stomped back to Paula's room.
She locked the door and went to sleep, hoping that her outburst would somehow convince Jenna and David to change their minds.
Despite being more than exhausted, Lucy woke up very early the next morning. According to Paula's phone, it was 5:59 AM on Wednesday, June 11.
But she didn't feel like training. She felt guilty for lashing out at Paula's parents, and she was worried that straining their relationship wasn't the way she was supposed to change history.
At the same time, she felt like she wasn't ready to apologize. She turned on the computer to blow off steam.
Curious, she clicked on the Safari browser, opening the last window Paula used - her Facebook profile.
The website's layout was slightly different from when she saw it in 2010, with a banner at the top indicating that this was "New Facebook". It was incredibly difficult for her to navigate, since it lacked most of the features of the social media websites she was used to.
As she was browsing, she suddenly got a notification from a Richard Martinez. Recognizing the profile picture as Paula's coach, she hovered the cursor over it.
"Be careful around that coach, Lucy!"
Shocked, Lucy turned around to see Ian's hologram standing behind her.
"Whoa, Ian, you scared me," said Lucy, catching her breath. "What brings you here so soon? Is my leap almost over?"
"No, of course not," replied Ian. "I just want to warn you to be careful around that Richard Martinez guy."
"Why?"
"He tried to kill Project Quantum Leap's original leaper, Addison Augustine, then went after her replacement Ben Song when he leaped to save her. Richard was killed on a leap to 1879, and if he's on a stop here, he might do something to a leaper like you."
"But he's so nice! Could someone like him really have bad intentions?"
Lucy clicked on Richard's profile, revealing a picture of him and his family at Madison Square Garden.
Ian squinted at the picture. "Oops, sorry. Looks like I got the wrong guy. See you at the end of the leap, Lucy!"
"Well, that was quite the shock," commented Boop. "And I thought we can finally escape this leap!"
"Our mission's not over yet," said Lucy, turning back to the computer.
She noticed that Richard had left a message on Paula's Facebook wall. "hey paula. marathon reg will be over tmrw. u still in?"
The marathon. Lucy almost forgot about it. Her mind raced as she recalled Paula's diary entries, the promise of freedom tied to the race, and the tension with her parents. This was it—the key to Paula's dreams. Without hesitation, she typed up a reply. "yea. how much? where do i pay?"
It took a while for the reply to appear. "50 bucks. just hand the money 2 me park."
That meant Lucy had no choice but to leave - no matter what others said or did.
But first, she needed the money. She quickly searched through the various cabinets and drawers across the room, finding a number of loose bills and coins - likely remnants of previous days' allowance. Luckily, there was more than enough to fund the registration.
Newly confident, she changed into exercise clothes, went out the room, and briskly tiptoed to the front door.
This time, she was able to unlatch all of the locks, but the moment she was about to step outside, she heard a voice behind her.
"What are you doing, Paula?"
Lucy turned around to see Jenna and David entering the dining room, still in their night clothes.
"I'm just, uh… going outside," replied Lucy.
"Do you have permission to go out?" interrupted Jenna.
Lucy sighed and stepped a little closer to Jenna. "Okay. May I please have permission to go out?"
Jenna paused. "Only if you promise to do your best at the flute recital on Friday. All our family and friends are flying to New York just to see you perform."
Lucy felt conflicted. She didn't want Paula to be trapped doing something she didn't want to do, but at the same time, she didn't want to strain Paula's relationship with her parents. And most of all, she didn't want to jeopardize this opportunity to go outside and run.
After some careful thinking, she sat down with a long sigh. "Okay. I promise to take my flute-playing seriously. And I'm sorry for lashing out at you yesterday."
Jenna glanced at David, then at Lucy. "You may go out, Paula. But be back as soon as possible. We're starting practice early today."
Lucy wasted no moment to rush outside.
But just when she closed the door behind her, Lucy heard Paula's parents talking to each other. From the tone of their voice, Lucy could tell that they were very serious.
She pressed her ear to the door, allowing her to barely make out their conversation.
"You think Paula's entering her rebellious phase?" quipped Jenna. "That's the only way I can explain her strange behavior."
"From how I see it, she's just trying to assert her autonomy in this household," replied David. "It's natural for someone Paula's age. It's part of growing up."
"So you're saying she's starting to question my authority," said Jenna, tapping something hard. "I really think we should add more restrictions to her."
"Don't you realize what you're doing?" replied David, raising his voice. "You're clipping her wings! If you continue to restrict her, how can she grow up to be the girl she wants to be?"
Jenna screamed so loud that Lucy backed away from the door.
Now realizing just how low Jenna would stoop to enforce her will on Paula, Lucy hightailed it out of the building and breathlessly ran all the way to Linden Park.
"Paula, what are you doing here?" said Richard as Lucy slowed her approach.
Lucy only panted heavily. She took a sip from Richard's water bottle to gain the energy she needed to talk. "I'm here to sign up for the marathon."
She handed the money over to Richard before sitting on the bleachers to catch her breath. David's words echoed in her mind—"clipping her wings." The thought of such a fate weighed heavily on her. Lucy knew how damaging it could be for a young person to have their dreams stifled, and she was determined to make sure Paula didn't face that.
After a few moments of reflection, Richard approached her. "You okay now, Paula?"
"I- I think so…" replied Lucy.
"Well, you'd better get practicing. You need all the training you can get before the big run on Friday."
"Wait, Friday?!"
Lucy couldn't believe it. The day of the marathon was the same day as Paula's big flute recital! And if both of them happened at the same time, she would be faced by a difficult choice - either join the marathon and risk Paula's family, or join the recital and risk Paula's hopes and dreams.
Luckily, she already had a choice. After what she heard earlier, she knew that she would never submit to Jenna anymore. She had to join the marathon, whatever it took.
She stood up and ran laps around the track, preparing herself for the big day.
Lucy woke up the next day - Thursday, June 12 - at 5:30 AM.
The previous afternoon had been chaotic. Paula's parents almost discovered the truth about her running excursions, but she managed to weasel her way out of it. Despite that, she wasn't able to avoid flute practice, when Jenna was even harsher than she was during tutoring on Tuesday.
But Lucy wasn't going to let that distract her from her mission. She quickly changed into light clothes and went outside the room, expecting that Paula's parents weren't awake so she can sneak out.
But when she peered around the hallway, she saw David typing away at a laptop on the dining table, with Jenna hovering over him with an annoyed expression on her face. She glanced at her menacingly, making her flinch away.
She quickly tiptoed backwards inside. If she couldn't go through the front door, how can she get out for her final marathon training?
She scanned the room for a way out and easily spotted one - the awning window at the back of the room opened out onto a fire escape.
She struggled a little to unlatch the window, which squeaked so loud that Paula's parents must've heard it, then slipped outside.
She crawled down the rusty old fire escape. It was a bit creaky and very narrow - while Lucy was sure her normal body could easily squeeze through, Paula's body, with all its extra muscle, was another story.
She ran all the way to Linden Park, where she saw Richard sitting on a bench, looking through a clipboard.
"Oh, Paula, there you are," said Richard, glancing up and noticing Paula. "You're a little early today."
"I- I just need to get out of the house," explained Lucy. "Things aren't going great there right now."
Richard glanced down at the fresh marks on Lucy's arms, which she got the previous night when she accidentally played a wrong note on the flute.
He bent down and looked at Lucy with caring eyes. "Be honest with me, Paula. Is something wrong?"
Lucy paused, then sighed deeply. "Okay, I'll admit it. Mom's been screaming at me, hitting me, locking me inside, and forcing me to play the flute over and over again! Dad's trying to talk sense into her, but it doesn't look like she's listening."
Richard's face hardened slightly. "That's harsh. But I've been there, Paula. My mother did bad things to me a lot when I was a kid too. But you know what I did? I let all my anger out by running. I quickly learned I was good at it, and look at me now."
Lucy was calmed by these words. In fact, she almost cried tears of joy from Richard's soothing voice.
"So whenever you feel suffocated, just come to the track. You'll be safe here, I promise."
Richard tapped Lucy on the shoulder. To her, it felt like she was hugging her favorite Squishmallow - a feeling she rarely got from strangers.
"Well, what are you waiting for? There's a marathon you have to practice for!"
Lucy was about to run to the track, but then she remembered to ask him a question. "Wait, what time is the marathon again?"
"11 AM sharp."
Lucy nodded, then began her laps. Newly energized by Richard's encouragement, she quickly circuited the track. Even though she wasn't being timed, she could tell that she had beaten the record she set last Tuesday - not just in time but in endurance.
She ran about a hundred laps, possibly even more, without stopping to catch her breath or to have a drink. She only stopped when she realized she was late due to the position of the sun.
She ran all the way back to Paula's house, only to make a foolish mistake - she went in through the front door.
That meant she was in full view of Jenna and David as they were arguing about something by the dining table.
"Oh, Paula, there you are," said Jenna, abruptly ending the argument. "We've been looking all over for you. Where have you bee-"
Jenna wasn't able to finish her question when she saw Lucy's sweaty, wrinkled clothes.
"Were you out running?!" screamed Jenna.
"No," replied Lucy, stunned by Jenna's correct guess. "I was just, uh, uh… touring the city on foot for inspiration for my creative writing project. Yeah."
"I don't believe it. If you were just touring the city you wouldn't be that sweaty. You were obviously running. What did we say about running?"
Lucy wanted to say "No running," but she feared it would only trap Paula even deeper in her situation.
"Because of your repeated disobedience, you're grounded until you're eighteen," screamed Jenna. "You may only go out for school or flute lessons."
Lucy's heart sank. She thought she was doing the right thing by helping Paula fight for her passions against all odds, but it seems like the odds are much, much stronger.
"And speaking of flute lessons, we shall begin our practice immediately. You have a big recital tomorrow, and you need to practice all day to receive that standing ovation."
"What time is the recital again?" asked Lucy as she received the flute from Jenna.
"It begins at 9 AM. Because our last name begins with S, you'll be the last, and I don't know what time you'll go onstage. In any case, you should have ample time to practice - all day today, after breakfast tomorrow, and backstage at the music school while all the other acts are performing."
Lucy felt a glimmer of hope. If she finished by eleven o'clock, she could easily run to the park to start the marathon, since it wasn't too far away. And if she wins, she might finally change Jenna and David's minds.
But first, there was something she had to do: survive flute practice.
Time seemed to fly in an instant, and the next thing Lucy knew, she woke up on the big day - Friday, June 13 - at 6:05 AM.
It was too late to sneak out and go running, but she didn't care. She already had the power and endurance to win big at the marathon.
She only needed to brush up on her flute playing.
Although Lucy improved a lot over the past few days, both she and Jenna knew that her skills were not good enough to receive a standing ovation. She didn't want to practice again, but she had to keep up her cover in front of Paula's parents.
After a short breakfast of Bagel Bites, Lucy immediately began practicing the song she would perform onstage - "No One" by Alicia Keys.
It took her a few tries, but surprisingly enough, she managed to perfect the song - at least, according to Jenna. Lucy thought Jenna's reduced harshness probably had something to do with it.
The family then drove to the music school. They arrived a little later than expected, because the normal route was closed to make way for the marathon.
As they pulled up to the parking lot, Lucy couldn't help but notice the vibrant energy in the streets. Runners were warming up along the sidewalks, volunteers were setting up water stations, and spectators were already gathering to secure good viewing spots. She felt a pang of longing, but quickly pushed it aside. She couldn't let Jenna or David suspect anything.
Inside the music school, the atmosphere was quieter but no less tense. Parents shuffled their children into the practice room at the back of the auditorium, and instructors bustled around, checking if everything was okay. Jenna leaned down to adjust Lucy's collar, smoothing out a wrinkle in her shirt.
"Remember," Jenna said firmly, "this performance is about showing discipline and dedication. Impress them."
Lucy nodded, biting her tongue to keep from saying what she really thought. She grabbed her flute case and headed into the rehearsal room.
Inside, she was greeted by the rest of the students practicing their various instruments. They were cacophonous, out of tune, and it disturbed her. She ducked into a quiet corner, separated from the rest of the room by a series of curtains.
As she practiced her scales, she rehearsed her escape plan in her mind. Once her act was done, she would duck backstage, enter the main hall, and cross the short distance to the front door. Then she would simply hop the fence over the nearby marathon route and run to the finish line.
Suddenly, the kids quietened. Lucy peeked out the curtain to see a tall man with short gray hair and a light blue plaid shirt walk onto the stage.
"Greetings, everyone," he introduced. "I am Hans C. Larson, director of the Young Mozarts Music School. Welcome to our Grand Recital. This event marks the end of the musical journey your children took as part of our Spring 2008 classes. To begin this momentous occasion, let us rise for the national anthem, performed by none other than our very own Martin Richardson!"
A tall boy about fifteen then walked onto the stage and played the national anthem on his trumpet.
After that, the rest of the students took the stage one by one. They included boys and girls of different ages and different races, playing instruments as diverse as French horns, violins, and a bell lyre. Their songs varied between folk songs, hymns, and popular songs from the era.
As each act played on, Lucy worried about the time. There was no clock in the room, and her only frame of reference was that each song had to be about three minutes. That said, she quickly lost count, and the show seemed to drag on forever.
Soon, however, she was finally called to the stage. She wanted to play her song as quickly as she could, but the piano player who was accompanying her wouldn't turn up the tempo. She ended up playing the song for its original length of four and a half minutes.
She didn't stay behind to finish the crowd's applause. She bowed and hurriedly walked backstage to escape.
When she entered the hallway, she was shocked to see that the clock above a display case read 11:55 AM.
It was almost an hour after the marathon started!
Lucy wanted to panic, but she didn't let it get to her. She drank from a water fountain, burst through the front door, and sprinted to the main road.
She pushed her way through the crowd of onlookers, hopped the fence, and began running down the track.
She dashed forward as fast as she could, but all the other runners were way ahead of her, looking almost like a mirage. That combined with the noontime summer heat made her feel like she wouldn't be able to win after all.
But she remembered the stakes. If she won, she might finally change Paula's parents' minds and maybe leap out. But if she lost, all the risks she took would end up being for nothing.
These thoughts motivated her to press forward. Soon enough, she was getting closer to the other runners, eventually overtaking them one by one.
The heat which she thought was against her also ended up becoming a boon. While the other runners had to stop to catch their breath or drink water, Lucy just pressed on, using Paula's built-up stamina to make her way down the track.
And before she knew it, she reached the finish line at Linden Park.
The crowd cheered with applause as Paula climbed onto the podium by one of the bleachers and stood victoriously on top of the number one position.
Seeing this, a marathon official sitting at a bench walked up to her with a gruff expression. "Get down from there, young lady. That spot is reserved for the winners."
"But I am a winner," said Lucy, confused.
"You're not part of this marathon. Get down there or I'll have to call security."
"I am part of this marathon! I signed up with Richard last Wednesday."
"Then why aren't you wearing your shirt? Or your number?"
Lucy looked down, embarrassed to realize that she was still wearing the collared shirt and pants she wore to the music school. She completely forgot that marathon runners wear special shirts and number tags, and she was worried that such a simple mistake might cost her the prize.
She was a little surprised to see Richard walk out of the sidelines and approach the official. "I can assure you that she simply forgot to pick up the shirt. She was busy at home, and I didn't think she would be able to make it, but… here she is."
Richard showed the official a shirt labeled "Linden Park Junior Marathon 2008" and a tarpaulin number tag reading 1585.
The official eyed the shirt, cross-checked it against his clipboard, then sighed deeply. "Okay, Ms. Serin. We apologize for the inconvenience, but… with a time of 2 hours, 54 minutes, and 15.85 seconds, we declare you the winner of the 2008 Linden Park Junior Marathon!"
The crowd cheered again as Lucy gasped, putting her hands to her mouth. All the hardships of the past week finally paid off.
A short photoshoot and award ceremony later, Lucy shyly stepped down from the podium, carrying an oversized check worth fifty thousand dollars.
As she walked back to the bleachers, she noticed two familiar adults emerging from a very familiar Honda.
"Mom? Dad?"
"Paula, there you are!" cried Jenna breathlessly, running up to Lucy.
"You have no idea how worried we were," added David. "We've been looking for you for hours!"
"What were you doing at the park? Didn't we say no run-"
Without saying a word, Lucy pointed the check at Paula's parents.
Jenna's eyes widened when she saw what was written on the check. "Fifty thousand dollars?! Why, that's enough to pay the rent for five years!"
"If we have any leftovers, can we use them to start a business?" asked David. "I've heard this recession's a good time to do it."
"You wouldn't have that money if I hadn't sneaked out and pursued my passion for running," added Lucy.
Jenna began to glare at Lucy, but David gave her a light pat to prevent a larger outburst.
Lucy sighed. "Mom, Dad, I'm going to be honest with you. I don't like playing the flute. I know I'm good, but, you shouldn't force me to do it and get angry whenever I show interest in some other thing. It just forces me to hide who I really am and risk several things just to be true to myself."
"Paula's right, Jenna," said David. "You should listen to her for once."
Jenna grimaced, letting out a low growl, but Lucy held up an arm to stop her.
"I'm willing to forgive you for everything you've done. Just promise that you'll listen to me and never force your will on me ever again."
Jenna paused, thinking hard, then began to sniffle, tears welling in her eyes. "I- I'm sorry. I'm sorry for all the bad things I've ever done to you. I promise I'll never prevent you from running again."
"It's okay. I forgive you."
Jenna hugged Lucy tightly, catching the teen by surprise. Unable to contain his emotions, David joined in on the hug as well, which lasted a good few minutes.
"So, care to show us your running skills?" asked Jenna cheerfully, breaking away from the hug.
"Sure!" replied Lucy.
She walked up to a person standing by the running track, facing away from her. "Hey, Richard. Is the running track ready to use now."
"Of course it is, Lucy."
"Oh, Ian, it's you," exclaimed Lucy, only now noticing the person's white wig and round-framed glasses. "Is my leap finally over?"
"By my calculations, it should be," replied Ian.
"So, how did I change Paula's life?"
"Paula grows up to be a world-famous marathon runner, joining many charity and organized marathons across the U.S. and the world. Her parents buy the bodega underneath their apartment after it closes in November 2008, turning it into a bagel shop that became a viral hit when Justin Bieber visited in 2011. As of 2024, Paula is on a world tour sponsored by a chocolate drink company that aims to train young aspiring athletes in the Global South."
"That's a noble quest."
"And she wouldn't have done it if you hadn't fought against her parents to support her passion. You're doing a lot of pretty inspiring things - you should write a book about the lessons you learned when you get home."
"If I get home, that is."
"I'm sure you'll get home someday. In fact, I think you're off to your next stop."
Lucy suddenly noticed that her body was engulfed by a strong bluish-white light. A whirlwind surrounded her as a powerful wave of energy emanated from Boop and overtook her, sending all her hairs standing on end.
And the next thing she knew, she was no longer in 2008.
Lucy blinked.
She found herself sitting once again in the passenger seat of a moving vehicle. It was cramped, with three bobblehead dogs on the dashboard, a fan hanging from the corner of the windshield, and a snow globe above the clock reading 11:16 AM.
She looked outside the open window, finding the stereotypical landscape of a small town main street - narrow two-storey buildings, lamp posts, and leafless trees planted in holes on the sidewalk.
She then noticed her reflection in the side mirror - a young boy about twelve years of age with brown bowl-cut hair split in the middle and a horizontally-striped shirt.
The driver - an older man with messy brown hair, mustache, and beard complimenting a red plaid shirt that couldn't be buttoned due to his bulging stomach - stopped at an intersection. He turned up the radio, which was playing "The Sign" by Ace of Base, and did a little dance in his seat.
A few seconds later, the light turned green, and he drove the vehicle to a small side road.
"Where are we going?" asked Lucy.
"To the old house on Davenport Street," replied the driver, his voice sounding like he smoked a pack of cigarettes every day for weeks.
"Why?"
"Because they have some cool artifacts we can pick."
"Pick?"
"Y'know, 'cause we're pickers? We pick people's antiques for a living. Then we sell them at the shop in Des Moines."
"Oh, yeah, right."
Lucy suddenly remembered the show on the History Channel about two people from Iowa who buy antiques from all over America. She had a feeling this leap would be similar, and she couldn't wait to see where it will take her.