Okay, I wrote this chapter about a week ago when I was completely bored. I wasn't sure whether to put this in historical fiction or science fiction, but with some help, I decided on science fiction. This is kind of religious, but I hope no one will take it offensively. I just want it to be critiqued before I show my other friends.
Also, I have this habit of changing stuff in the first few chapters as I go on in the story. I'll let you know if I changed anything, but I think I got this story down now. Now worries. Here's Chapter 1!
1 Year Ago…
“Hey, um, Elizabeth, right?”
“Yes—?” I froze, my face started to burn as I looked into the eyes of the cutest guy in school, Paul Hope. His dark hair was adorably untidy, and his dark eyes were both fully on me. I felt I lost my voice as I tried to answer him again, but nothing came out.
Paul smirked. “Am I interrupting something? I can—”
“No, not at all,” I said quickly. “Do you need something?”
Paul looked to his friends who were either laughing silently or encouraging him to talk to me. I saw Paul’s face look suddenly irate and he made a sigh as he turned back to me. My excited face fell into disappointment and I waited for Paul to talk.
“Would you…well, are you…are you busy tonight?” he asked, putting his hands in his pockets as he stumbled over his question.
I thought for a minute, figuring out that he was not asking me from his heart but from his head. My brow furrowed as I looked at Paul and he seemed worried as to how I’ll answer. He added, “If you’re not, we can go…some other time…”
“Fortunately to you, I’m free tonight,” I said bitterly.
“Oh, please don’t be like that,” Paul pleaded quietly so his friends didn’t hear.
“Well, I’m obviously being used for something. A dare, maybe?”
Paul didn’t reply, but just look at me.
“I’ll see you tonight,” I said. I wrote my address on a post-it note and posted it harshly on his forehead, causing him to stumble backwards. “Pick me up.”
And I left the cutest guy in school.
Going through school, I felt my eyes spot Paul wherever he was—the halls, in class, at lunch. I usually did look at him everyday wherever he was, but today was more of a glare. Was Paul really that great a person? He was cute still, as cute as he’ll ever be, but after talking to him this morning, I didn’t really look forward to tonight.
I didn’t think he’d show up either, but he was serious.
He drove up on my driveway and he walked up to my door. He knocked three times and stood there, waiting, until I opened the door. I saw him and shrugged. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Elizabeth, please—”
I didn’t respond, but seated myself in the front seat of his car. We drove silently onward to wherever Paul planned on taking us. No one spoke, no one dared to speak. As much as I wanted to know where he was taking me, I wanted to go home.
Then I found us parked in front of the bowling lanes.
“I hope you like bowling,” Paul said as he opened the doors and stepped out. I followed suit, not replying. However, deep down, I loved bowling.
We walked in, picked up our shoes, got our own lane for the two of us, and started the game as easily as if we were just family going out to bowl for the umpteenth time this week. Paul went first…and bowled a spare. My brow furrowed as I looked up to him.
He only shrugged. “It’s your turn.”
He sat down as I stood up and walked up onto the platform. I held my bowling ball up in front of me, and studied my approach before I walked up and let the bowling ball roll down the lane. All ten pins flew back as the ball rolled into them and out of sight. I turned to Paul who gaped at the lane.
“Your turn,” I said, sitting back down.
Paul took a moment to recover before standing up and taking his turn. He took a bit longer, probably making more of an effort for a good bowl, before a strike was bowled.
The war continued like this until the tenth round. In the end, Paul won by only a few points. Paul wanted to bowl another game, hoping for a better victory, but I told him I had to go.
“Just one more game, Elizabeth, please!” Paul asked desperately.
“Look, Paul,” I finally said, turning to him, “I played a game with you. I went out with me. Mission accomplished. Take me home, please.”
Paul stood there in silence, looking at me. I stared at him, not wanting to be here anymore.
“Look,” he started with a sigh. He tried to continue, but he hesitated. My brow furrowed and I looked at him curiously. “It was a dare,” he said quickly and looked away. I didn’t reply, but wait for him to continue. Paul looked at me, noticed I wasn’t going to say anything, and explained, “It was at Sara’s party—the short brunette, you know? We played Truth or Dare and I was dared to take you out.”
I nodded. “I knew something was up.”
“Of course you would’ve figured it out,” Paul said. “You’re the smartest kid in the class!”
I looked at him. “How am I supposed to react to that?”
Paul sighed, calming himself, then looked at me and asked, “Could we go out tomorrow night?”
I couldn’t believe it. The cutest guy in school was first using me for a dare, now he really was asking me out again! I was speechless.
“Tonight was much more fun than I thought it would be,” Paul continued. “Could we try again? Maybe go out to dinner this time?”
I could only smile and nod my head. “I’d love to.”
Chapter 1
Present Time…
“You’re not going to your senior prom with Paul, are you?”
“Uh, yeah I am.”
“He’s not good for you, Lizzie. He’s completely rude.”
“Mother, I he’s my friend!”
“You’re mom’s right, Liz,” my father decided to enter the conversation and looked over his newspaper at me. “I suggest you stay away from him.”
“I can’t believe you guys!” I exclaimed with frustration. I grabbed my backpack as my mother tried to soothe my anger.
“We could go to a movie that night, if you’d like,” she bribed. “Or maybe you and some friends could go.”
“I’m just find with my boyfriend, thanks,” I said bitterly. “I got school. See ya guys later.” I left the house, ignoring my mother’s pleas. I didn’t understand why my parents disliked Paul, but it made me made, and made Paul insane. In fact, the only time my parents saw Paul was last year when I first brought him to my house. It was not a happy evening.
I was helping Paul with his simple Algebra homework when my mother came home from work. Unfortunately, right when she walked in, Paul said a curse word, leaving my mother a bad impression. And, of course, my mother tells my father everything. It’s like a game of telephone; the first person’s saying is going to be completely different on the other end of the line.
I was on my way to meet Paul at school that morning, turning corners, stopping by my locker for my books on the way. I was only one more turn away from our usual meeting place when I heard Paul speaking to his close friend, Jon, about me. I eavesdropped from behind the corner. I shouldn’t have done it, but curiosity struck.
“She’s always talking about church and crap!” Paul said exasperatedly.
“Dude, maybe she’s…well…trying to convert you to her religion,” Jon suggested. My mouth dropped open with shock at that statement. I suppose that was a little true, but simply put out like that sounded as if I was attacking Paul.
“Oh, no,” Paul said, shaking his head. “If any converting is going to happen, she’ll be the one converted. There’s no way I’m going to get rid of my Sunday mornings to listen to an old man tell me off about being a bad guy. Next thing that’s going to happen—I’m going to be brought to Confession!”
“Um…I don’t think she’s Catholic,” Jon put in.
“Well, whatever she is—”
“Lutheran—”
“Yeah, that sounds right—” Paul’s face fell at the sound of my voice and he turned slowly to look at me. Jon looked fearfully from one to the other then decided to leave for class, leaving us alone. “Lizzie, I didn’t mean—I mean—” he sighed, not knowing what to say.
I didn’t reply. I waited patiently for his explanation.
Paul looked at me with his soft brown eyes, a defeated look on his face. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I asked. “Why should you be sorry? If anyone should be sorry it’s me.” Paul tried to speak, but I continued. “I’m sorry for going to church, sorry for being a Christian. I’m sorry we ever met. I’m sorry you had to endure my parents’ wrath for a whole year. I’m sorry—”
“Lizzie!” Paul said, grabbing my arms. I felt my eyes water as I looked up at him.
“I tried, Paul,” I said quietly. “I tried to show my parents you were not some bad guy, that you were my friend, that we enjoyed being together no matter what they said. You know, my dad wasn’t a Christian before he met my mother. I hoped even he would understand that I had a friend that wasn’t Christian. I’m sorry for—”
“Don’t be sorry,” Paul pleaded and held me close as I cried quietly on his shoulder. “We’re just different and we can’t help being different. We lasted this long without talking about our beliefs and now here we stand, finding the weak link between us.”
I stopped crying and looked up at him. “That was the wisest thing I’ve heard you say, and it wasn’t too wise.”
Paul smiled weakly and shrugged. “I guess you’re rubbing off on me.”
At this, an idea struck me. Paul looked at me strangely, but I only shook my head and said, “We better get to class.”
“Alright,” Paul said, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning for the band trip, right?”
“I’ll be there,” I said. We kissed each other then separated for class.
My brother was only ten years old, but he was no ordinary ten-year-old. I would tell you why right now, but you would never believe me. Instead, I’ll just show you why my brother was really strange.
I sat on the couch finishing my homework when my brother came home. “Where’s Paul?” Alex asked with disgust, looking around for where Paul could be hiding.
“Home,” I said simply, completing the last math problem with ease. “We have band tomorrow and I finally convinced him to sleep tonight rather than party ‘til three in the morning.”
“And he listened? Wow…” Alex said, dropping off his backpack on the kitchen table. “I’m going downstairs, then.”
“No homework?” I asked him.
“Nope, finished it at school,” Alex said. “We had science and math, but they were too easy. I finished both subjects in five minutes.”
Alex left down the stairs without waiting for me to respond. I watched him leave for the basement and waited a few minutes before putting my things away and going downstairs into the unfinished basement as well.
No company was allowed in our basement because our cat lurked down here. No family came down here except to go on their computer. We had five computers, one for each member of the family, and we always played a game together on our computers on our free nights.
I walked over to Alex’s computer and sat down in his chair. I logged on, entering his password as easily as if it were mine: Neutron.
Jimmy Neutron was a television show aired about twenty years ago, during my parents’ childhood lives. My brother loved the show and bought every season of it. It was about some little fifth grader boy genius who owned a lab and saved the world countless times from his own creations. Jimmy Neutron was Alex’s idol, even if he was a computer animation figure.
I double-clicked an icon with a picture of an atom and scooted back as the desk suddenly and slowly swung outwards to reveal a tunnel with metallic walls. It was short for my brother’s height, so I had to crawl through. The desk closed behind me, I heard the chair wheel under the desk on its own. I crawled on hands and knees to the other side of the tunnel.
My brother was ten years old, a fourth grader, and a boy genius. He owned his lab in the basement, a lab no one knew about except me and my best friend, Sara.
Sara and I were messing around with my brother, teasing him and whatever else a big sister could think of to embarrass her little brother. My brother couldn’t handle it anymore and took off downstairs. We chased after him and saw, with our own eyes, the desk move on its own to cover this hidden tunnel. Alex made us promise never to tell anyone about his lab.
Why? Jimmy Neutron’s whole town knew about his lab.
I’m not Jimmy Neutron, I’m Alex. Now get out!
That was that.
I finally reached the end of the tunnel and groaned when I noticed a barred gate blocking the entrance. I looked around outside the gate for Alex or any robot that could remove the gate. Alex always tried to keep me out of his lab, and his gate’s lock did not have a key hole.
It was a bright, red circle, like a traffic signal. There was no other buttons; just this lit circle, shining a bright red.
I heard a robot coming, its wheels in quick motion. I looked eagerly to the direction of the sound and saw a robot appear. It was K8. She had the metallic figure of a female, had bright green lights for eyes, and two wheels as her feet.
“K8! Over here!”
K8 stopped and her head turned to face me. I heard the gears crank inside, the computerized brain search her memory banks for my appearance. When she finally recognized me, K8 said, “Oh, Mistress Elizabeth!” She rolled over to the gate and bent ninety degrees to look at me. “How are you?”
“Not good,” I replied, shaking the bars of the gate. “Can you open this? I have to talk to Alex.”
“I am afraid I do not have the control panel to do what you wish, Mistress,” K8 said. “Master Alex is in possession of the controls.”
“Well, could you take the controls from him, please?” I asked as nicely as I could.
“I am afraid I am not programmed to do such a task,” K8 replied.
“Well, then, could you tell Alex that I have a huge favor to ask of him?” I said.
“Of course, Mistress Elizabeth.”
“Wonderful, go do that then,” I said, getting comfortable in the tunnel and folding my hands on top of my stomach. “I’ll wait here.”
“Of course, Mistress Elizabeth,” she said and rolled away.
I sat here for what seemed like fifteen minutes before Alex finally showed up with K8 behind him. He wore a lab coat over his jeans and short-sleeved shirt, goggles hanging around his neck. He took his contacts out and slipped his glasses on, staring down at me with a furrowed brow. “What do you want?” he asked annoyed, his hands on his hips.
“Let me in, please,” I said exasperatedly, sitting back on my knees, my hands wrapped around the bars of the door. “It’s getting really uncomfortable sitting in here.”
Alex glared at me for sometime before pulling out a small remote from his jacket pocket and pressing one of the buttons. The lock turned from red to green and the bars slid away into the tunnel walls as if there were no gate at all. I crawled out and stood up, stretching my cramped muscles.
“Alright, talk,” he said, crossing his arms and looking up at me through the lenses of his glasses. K8 stayed motionless behind Alex, taking in all the conversation taking place in front of her.
I took a moment to relieve myself from sitting in the tunnel a bit longer before saying, “I need your help.”
Alex suddenly became interested. “Why my help?”
“Because…if anyone can come up with a solution…” I sighed as I finished, “…it’s you.”
Alex thought for a moment then said, “Walk with me, talk with me—stay behind me,” he warned. I looked at him wildly and he simply said, “It’s my lab. No one touches anything. Stay behind me.” He started walking and I stayed behind him, K8 rolling a ways behind us. “What’s the problem?”
“It’s Paul—”
“Paul?” he repeated, stopping and turning around with shock and disgust. “Okay, before we go any further, what’s in it for me?”
“What?”
Alex sighed. “Do I always have to use simple words? If I help you, what do I get?”
“The good feeling after helping your sister,” I replied simply. Alex stared at me, waiting for a real answer. I sighed. “I’ll do your homework for a week—”
“A year—”
“Two weeks—”
“Six months—”
“Three weeks—”
“Three months—”
“Four weeks—don’t push it!” I warned before he continued.
Alex thought about it then shrugged, but he said sternly, “It better be perfect marks.”
I sighed exasperatedly. “Fine, perfect marked papers for a month.”
“Deal,” he said and resumed walking. “What’s the problem?”
“I was thinking…is there a way to…show Paul…well…” I didn’t know how to put it. Alex looked up at me with a cocked brow. “Okay, Paul and I got in a discussion about our religion—”
“Don’t say any more,” Alex said, holding up a hand for me to stop talking. “You want me to convince Paul to convert to Christianity—”
“No!” I said quickly. “Well, I want him to know I…I guess…well, that sounds a bit harsh.”
“But it’s true,” Alex pointed out. “Covering the truth with a blanket of lies only makes the truth hotter. You’ll soon want to throw the blankets off before you overheat.”
I stared at him with disbelief. “You really make me look bad, you know?”
“That’s my job,” Alex said. “Now, let me think…”
“Master Alex,” K8 suddenly said, causing me to jump. She rolled in front of me and waited patiently for Alex to respond with his grunt, then said, “May I suggest theT1M3?”
“T1M3?” I repeated and looked at Alex. “Is that a new invention? I don’t recall the name.”
“His latest masterpiece,” K8 said helpfully, turning her green lit eyes on me. “Master Alex has been working on the T1M3 for quite some time. It is nearly finished. Just a couple more tests should do the trick.”
“What does it do?” I asked. K8 was about to reply when Alex shouted, “Aha! Brilliant!” I looked at him as Alex turned around to face me.
“The T1M3 may actually work,” he said, his face bright with eagerness. “How does tomorrow sound?”
“Wait, what is it?” I asked, a bit overwhelmed. “Did you test it yet?”
“Well, we tested it twice already,” Alex said uncertainly. “The first time…I lost a bot.”
“You lost a bot?!” I repeated with horror.
“It was not one of my best creations, though,” Alex said hurriedly. “I didn’t really care for it—”
“You lost it!” I said again with more emphasis.
“That was the first time!” Alex said as loudly as I. “The second time, I got my bot back…three days later. A few more repairs, another test, and it should be good to go. However, if we’re to go through with this, I will have to come with you.”
I cocked and eyebrow, my arms folded across my chest. “Isn’t that going a bit far?”
“I’m the only one who can get us back,” he explained.
“Wait…” I said, my voice trailing off, “…back from where?”
Alex sighed. He pulled out a piece of paper and a pen then wrote out T1M3 for me to see. “Now do you know what it does? It’s a time-traveling machine. It can take you forward or backward in time. I was thinking of sending us back to ancient times to see the life of Jesus. I can’t send a bot back in time—not because K8 isn’t good enough for the job, but because there aren’t any bots back then.”
“Where did you lose your first bot?” I asked.
“Ten years in the future,” he replied with a shrug. “I expect to find it lying around in my lab in ten years time. Anyway, I’ll have to come with you and Paul to get you two back home. However, if my controls fail, I’ll need someone to stay in my lab to work the buttons. Is Sara back from Italy?”
“She returned yesterday,” I said faintly, overwhelmed by Alex’s working brain and its ideas just spilling out of his mouth. I could hardly keep up.
“Good,” he said. “She’ll have to come here tomorrow as well just in case we don’t come back in two seconds. I’ll try to work on the machine tonight to get it going correctly.”
I stared at Alex as he crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it behind him. I watched the ball fly in the air and nearly land on the bare floor when a little metal trash can rolled over and caught the ball before it hit the ground then roll away.
“Okay, get out, please,” Alex said and pushed me in the direction of the tunnel.
“Hey!” I exclaimed from the sudden shove.
“I must work in peace,” he simply said.
“I can leave by myself, thanks,” I said, slipping from under his grip and straightening my shirt. “Thanks for helping. I just hope it works,” I added uneasily.
“Oh, it will work,” Alex said reassuringly then added in a small voice, “I think.”
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K, there you have it. Chapter 1. Let me know how it is. I'll work on Chapter 2 meanwhile. Also, a special note about the rating: It's PG-13 for future reasons--if all goes well
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