Category : Books-Fiction

Sub Category : Adventure

If you haven't already guessed, I'm a Time Traveler. TT for short. I won't go into all the details, but basically the government realized they needed to stop messing around with technology and start focusing on science. After 500 years, they invented the Warp gene. Mix up a bunch of A's, T's, G's, and C's, and voila, a living time machine. The poor freak they experimented on escaped, so they laid down some rules. Primarily, stay in your era. Don't go back or forward more than a hundred years. After the first experiment ran off, they added an extra gene to their potion. If they activate it, you're frozen in that exact time and place until they drag you off to prison.
Unless you're me, that is.
I'm stalking down a cobblestone street somewhere in Britain. I'm fuming because my best friend just found out I'm a TT. Being my best friend, he won't turn me in. Being my best friend, he'll find a way to make me take him with me.
I'm a 17 year old girl with a punk face and a 'tude to match. No parents, no sibs, so I live on my own.
I turn left, then right, and then I smell the smoke.
Shit.
I break into a sprint. When I skid around the corner, I stop in my tracks. My house is burning. Smoke pours out the windows, and flames lick under the door. Coughing, I bust in and grab whatever isn't on fire. A wallet. My phone. A gun, a long knife, and a singed bag of coins. I stuff it all into a backpack and duck back outside just as the roof collapses, sending me flying. I roll onto my back and watch as my home goes up in smoke, until the sky is black and there's nothing left but ashes.
Slowly, I climb to my feet. A glance around tells me every sane person is inside. The night is silent, and my footsteps sound like thunder as I look for a place to sleep.
Finally, I just collapse onto a doorstep and use my backpack as a pillow.

A booted foot kicks me awake. I groan and drag open my eyes to see an angry face staring down at me. The foot swings again, and I roll away before it hits me. I stand and run behind the house. I close my eye and imagine my school.
Then I open my other eye and Warp.
The shapes around me twist and distort until they're unrecognizable, then settle into brick, grass, and concrete. I'm at the school.
Three hundred some years ago, the government decided that school was no longer mandatory. It was also expensive. So now, if you're rich and want to stay rich, you take your education seriously. Which is why, right after my house burned down, I'm walking into class. I flop into a seat with a grunt, burned hands, smudged face and all.
This chair just so happens to be the one next to my best friend, Nick Sheda. Joy. He takes one look at me face and doesn't stop looking all through the rest of the lesson, despite my glares and gestures. By the time the buzzer sounds, his dark eyes haven't blinked once.
He follows on my heels as I march to the bathroom, somehow managing to slip in before I can lock the door.
Mr. Tall, Dark, and Silent leans in close. "What the hell happened to you?"
I glance at the mirror. One blackened eye stares out from under a singed mohawk. The other eye is closed. An old, jagged scar runs across it. I turn on the sink. "House burned down."
Nick stares at me, then says, "You have a house in England?"
"Had," I correct, and stick my head under the running water.
Nick watches me for a moment as the smoke slowly rinses to reveal dark reddish brown strands. "What?" I ask.
He looks away and quietly asks, "How many times have we had this conversation?"
He's asking if I've traveled back to this point in time before. I shake my head, hair dripping into my eyes. " 'S not like that. I can't go anywhere I've been before. You're safe from my Eye of Epic ness."
His face doesn't change, but I know how relieved he is. We're like that.
I turn off the water. "Anyway, since I don't have anywhere else, you mind if I crash with you for tonight?"
"I'll have to ask my mom."
Sheda's parents are both incredibly rich, rich enough to know about the whole time traveling thing. "I'm ready when you are," I say.
"What about your stuff?"
I gesture at my backpack. "It's all in there."
He doesn't comment, just pulls out his phone.
His mom opens the front door, beaming. "Come in, come in! Hi, Everstead!"
It's kind of a thing for rich kids to be known by their last names, by the way.
I sit down at the table, and my mouth waters. There's got to be at least five different courses here, and that's not counting the desserts. "This looks great."
Sheda's mom beams again. "Oh, thank you! I made them all myself." She proceeds to list the name and ingredients of every dish. I help myself to all of them.
I clean my plate faster than everyone else. Nick's family fills the room with warmth and laughter. His father asks him about school. His mom teases him about our band. They joke about the food. I keep silent.
After dinner, I take my pack to Nick's room. Their house has two bedrooms, so I'll sleep on the floor. I flop into a chair and stare out the window.
     After  a  moment,  Nick follows  me. "You okay?"
I glance at him. "Fine."
He knows better. "You seem quiet."
I shrug it off, but the sadness creeps into my voice. "It's just hard to watch your family. Makes me wonder what it would be like if I had one."
He sits down beside me. "I'm sorry."
I look at him and force back the loneliness. Nick is my family. "Whatever. You got a blanket somewhere?"
He gets up and finds a blanket in a closet. "You can sleep in my bed."
"No, I'll get cooties." I grab the blanket from his hands and spread it on the floor, then turn out the light.
Nick sighs and lays down in his bed. The room is lit by moonlight.
I can feel him watching me. I think he wants to say something, but when I finally look over, he's asleep.
I stay awake most of the night, only snoozing at six in the morning. I'm awoken by Nick's rapid breaths. He's curled around his blanket like it's a person, and he's sweating.
He wakes abruptly and immediately turns his head to look at me. He blushes when he meets my eye, and stands to use the bathroom. I yawn and summon the will to drag myself to my feet. I fold the blanket and wait outside the door. He jumps when he sees me, and leans away as I stumble past him and splash water on my face.
When I slide into my chair and growl for coffee, Nick's already gone, even though it's Saturday and there are no classes, so I duck back into the bathroom and open my eye.
It's pale, metallic silver, and stands out against the whites, even though there's no pupil. It glows brightly in the mirror, lighting up the room as the walls bend. And then I'm in England again. 
I roam the streets, carrying my backpack, looking for an inn. Two hours pass with no success cheap enough, so I stop at a tavern to ask around.
The room is filled with men, and giggling girls serve them food and beer. Mostly beer.
I walk up to one and layer on the English accent. "D'you know any good inns to spend the night at?"
He just gapes at me. No surprise there. I turn just as someone else says, "I have an extra room you can rent for as long as you want."
It's a boy around my age. He has hair the color of dark gold, full, curving lips, and, most surprisingly, a book in his hand. Not many people are literate in old England.
"How much?" I ask.
He shrugs and smiles at me. "I will take anything you offer."
I study him. He's not lying. "Fifty silver?"
He nods, holding out his hand. I give him the bag of coins, and he says,        "Follow me."
As we walk, I say, "Don't you think I look weird?"
He nods. I wait for him to say something else, but he doesn't.
We reach a shabby stone building as the sun sets. The boy holds out his hand in front of the door. "I am Ernest Stonely. And you are named...?"
"Casey Everstead," I say, opening the door.
Inside is a small fireplace in a living room, a table in a kitchen, and two beds in two - You've already figured that out. I throw my backpack in the smaller room and ask, "You like to read?" There's a stack of books and papers in the first bedroom.
He looks embarrassed. "And write. But it is not fit for reading."
I shrug. "Keep trying. I'm going to sleep."
"I will go to the market," he says as my eyes drift closed.

When they drift open again, the sun is in the middle of the sky, which means it's Sunday and I slept too long. I scowl and turn my head to discover Ernest is standing over me. He jumps and backs away. "I am sorry! I did not know how to wake you!"
I give him a weirded-out look and sit up. "By shaking me and saying, 'Wake up'.
He frowns. "That is not how a guest should be awoken."
"How? With gloves or bells? Don't see any of those around here." I lick my lips. "Don't see any breakfast either."
"I usually skip breakfast," he says.
I gape. "What? Aren't you hungry?"
He frowns. "Yes, but I would rather spend money on books than on breakfast."
I roll my eye and duck out the door, returning with two donuts. "Take and eat if you want diabetes."
He takes and eats, trailing after me with a confused expression. "Where are you going?"
I grin at him. "I'm off to get rich! See the stars! Get paid to do backbreaking jobs no one else wants to do! How 'bout you?"
"What does 'backbreaking' mean in English?" he asks.
Ooooooh, so that's why he wasn't running off screaming. He thought I was just a foreigner. Technically, I was.
"It means really hard," I said. "Like, hard enough to break your back. I'm going to ask around, see if anyone wants their firewood chopped or something."
"I do not know anyone who is in need of a hired boy," he says with a frown.
"I ain't no boy," I say, scrunching my nose at him. "And how else am I supposed to make money?"
He doesn't hear the second part. He just stares at me, openmouthed.
I let him gape for a moment, then roll my eye. "Yes. I am a member of the female gender, and yet, somehow, I can live without being treated like one! How amazing is that! Now, about the money problem?" I drum my fingers on the wall.
He snaps out of his reverie. "Sit down! No lady should have to work to make a living! Do you want more breakfast?" He looks like he's about to have a panic attack.
I roll my eyes. "Ernest, Ernest. Take deeeep breaths, buddy. In. Out. In. Out. Okay. Why shouldn't I work?"
"Because you are a girl!" He stares at me. "Where is your father?"
Hmm. Demonstration of toughness? Needed.
I cross my arms. "Look, if you don't drop this right now, I'll make you beg for your ass. I've got a gun in my bag, baby, so shove off. As for my dad, he