singing, and the phone rang and it was the football guy — who calls himself
Paul the Ball
— confirming the party and before I knew it, we had that pop quiz again. I felt like a zombie, just going through the motions, scared to do anything differently from the day before.”
“Me too!”
He continues. “I really, really wanted to tell you what was going on but I couldn’t. I figured you’d never believe me. Plus, you know, you hadn’t spoken to me in a year.”
“Yeah, there’s that.”
“So I told myself it was all a bad dream, but when it happened again on the third day, I started to get really scared. I seriously thought I was going crazy. Then you weren’t in school and it was like fireworks went off in myhead. I knew that this had to be happening to you, too, or else you’d be sitting in that class with me. And I finally knew I wasn’t dreaming, I wasn’t crazy What was it like for you?”
I take a deep breath and tell him everything that happened. He laughs when I get to the part about swinging my arms pathetically at gymnastics tryouts. He mumbles “Sorry” when I tell him that Stephanie left to go to his party. I show him my healing blisters and explain that they’re the reason I knew this was real. I tell him about Kylie and what I read in her diary, and about Mom getting fired.
When I’m done he leans forward intently and says, “We’re like, we’re … special or something. Like time is stopping for us.”
“But why? Why us? Is it something we did? Something we
didn’t
do? Maybe everyone’s stuck, but only the two of us realize it. Or maybe there
are
others, but we don’t know about them and they don’t know about us.”
“I hadn’t thought about others,” he says, sitting back on his heels. “I guess it’s possible. We should find out.”
“Don’t you think our first job should be to make it stop?”
“Who says we should make it stop?” He smiles crookedly, the old sparkle back in his eye. I missed that sparkle. Leo was definitely the leader when it came to anything sneaky.
“What do you mean?”
He jumps up. “Think about it. You know how our parents — well, mostly
your
parents — are always saying that there are ‘consequences for our actions’?” He does a pretty good imitation of my dad.
“Yeah, so?”
“Well, that rule doesn’t apply to us anymore. We can do anything we want and the slate is wiped clean the next day.”
“What slate?”
“It’s an
expression,”
he says, still excited. “It’s like we get a ‘do-over’ every day!”
I think back to this morning, and how happy I was that no one in my family remembered they were mad at me. I begin to see where he’s going with this. “Do you have a plan?”
He can barely contain himself and actually does a little hop and a skip. Good thing those guys he was trying sohard to impress can’t see him now. “I have a few ideas,” he says. “I want to check some things out first.”
I shiver involuntarily. “Is it going to get us in trouble?”
“There’s a good chance,” he admits.
The bell rings. “Should we go back to class? Those consequences you talked about might be gone tomorrow, but if we cut school we’ll still get in a lot of trouble today. I can’t stand my parents being mad at me again, even if it just lasts a day. And if we get grounded, we can’t do anything anyway.”
“You’re right.” He picks up his backpack and hands me mine. “We should start tomorrow. That’ll give me more time to plan anyway. If you pretend you’re sick again, can you get out of the house without being seen?”
“I think so. My dad pretty much slept all day. He’ll just think I’m sleeping, too.” I push open the door to the hallway and we quickly blend in with the streams of kids coming out of classrooms.
“I’ll go to school like usual,” Leo says, raising his voice over the commotion. “But I’ll hand in a note saying I have a doctor’s appointment and won’t be
Paul the Ball
— confirming the party and before I knew it, we had that pop quiz again. I felt like a zombie, just going through the motions, scared to do anything differently from the day before.”
“Me too!”
He continues. “I really, really wanted to tell you what was going on but I couldn’t. I figured you’d never believe me. Plus, you know, you hadn’t spoken to me in a year.”
“Yeah, there’s that.”
“So I told myself it was all a bad dream, but when it happened again on the third day, I started to get really scared. I seriously thought I was going crazy. Then you weren’t in school and it was like fireworks went off in myhead. I knew that this had to be happening to you, too, or else you’d be sitting in that class with me. And I finally knew I wasn’t dreaming, I wasn’t crazy What was it like for you?”
I take a deep breath and tell him everything that happened. He laughs when I get to the part about swinging my arms pathetically at gymnastics tryouts. He mumbles “Sorry” when I tell him that Stephanie left to go to his party. I show him my healing blisters and explain that they’re the reason I knew this was real. I tell him about Kylie and what I read in her diary, and about Mom getting fired.
When I’m done he leans forward intently and says, “We’re like, we’re … special or something. Like time is stopping for us.”
“But why? Why us? Is it something we did? Something we
didn’t
do? Maybe everyone’s stuck, but only the two of us realize it. Or maybe there
are
others, but we don’t know about them and they don’t know about us.”
“I hadn’t thought about others,” he says, sitting back on his heels. “I guess it’s possible. We should find out.”
“Don’t you think our first job should be to make it stop?”
“Who says we should make it stop?” He smiles crookedly, the old sparkle back in his eye. I missed that sparkle. Leo was definitely the leader when it came to anything sneaky.
“What do you mean?”
He jumps up. “Think about it. You know how our parents — well, mostly
your
parents — are always saying that there are ‘consequences for our actions’?” He does a pretty good imitation of my dad.
“Yeah, so?”
“Well, that rule doesn’t apply to us anymore. We can do anything we want and the slate is wiped clean the next day.”
“What slate?”
“It’s an
expression,”
he says, still excited. “It’s like we get a ‘do-over’ every day!”
I think back to this morning, and how happy I was that no one in my family remembered they were mad at me. I begin to see where he’s going with this. “Do you have a plan?”
He can barely contain himself and actually does a little hop and a skip. Good thing those guys he was trying sohard to impress can’t see him now. “I have a few ideas,” he says. “I want to check some things out first.”
I shiver involuntarily. “Is it going to get us in trouble?”
“There’s a good chance,” he admits.
The bell rings. “Should we go back to class? Those consequences you talked about might be gone tomorrow, but if we cut school we’ll still get in a lot of trouble today. I can’t stand my parents being mad at me again, even if it just lasts a day. And if we get grounded, we can’t do anything anyway.”
“You’re right.” He picks up his backpack and hands me mine. “We should start tomorrow. That’ll give me more time to plan anyway. If you pretend you’re sick again, can you get out of the house without being seen?”
“I think so. My dad pretty much slept all day. He’ll just think I’m sleeping, too.” I push open the door to the hallway and we quickly blend in with the streams of kids coming out of classrooms.
“I’ll go to school like usual,” Leo says, raising his voice over the commotion. “But I’ll hand in a note saying I have a doctor’s appointment and won’t be
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