The Boy From The Book (Part 1)

Note: This story is not related to the prompt. This is part one. If you want me to write part two comment below.

It all started as a normal Tuesday.

I was sitting at my desk in world history class, doodling in my notebook dedicated to history notes. When I heard the door swing open. I heard the clickety-clackety sound of Ms. Hayward’s shoes as she walked to the chalkboard.

“We have a new student.” Ms. Hayward said in her usual voice that always reminded me of a songbird.

I look up out of a vague sense of curiosity.

I could feel my jaw drop. Standing at the front of my class was my favorite book character, Jayden Adler, from Quest Over Mount Gunung.

“Hi. I’m Jayden.” He said to the class, scratching the back of his neck and looking like he didn’t know where to put his hands.

I just sat there with my mouth agape. Honestly I’m surprised that a fly or something didn’t go in my mouth.

Anyway, I couldn’t believe it. How was this even possible? I sat in shock trying to listen to Ms. Hayward rattle on about the civil war. Jayden looked exactly how I pictured him when I read the book. He was tall and slim with shaggy caramel colored hair. I’m surprised nobody recognized him. But then again I’m the only book nerd in this class, so.

“Take a seat over there, Jayden.” Ms. Hayward pointed to the only empty desk in the classroom. The one right beside mine.

I stared in awe. I know I’ve already said this, but how is this even possible! I mean people don’t just pop out of books every day! At least I don’t think so?

After not paying attention & doodling in world history I sit in the cafeteria. The scent of rotting fruit is strong, so it’s a little hard to eat my sandwich. I sit at the empty table next to the compost bucket, because I don’t sit with Delia Quitterie anymore. We used to be ALSBFFs (almost like sisters best friends forever)

We were friends since we were babies, but then one day she just decided that I wasn’t cool enough for her. So that was it, basically. Well I guess I did call her older sister stuck up that one time. But she was stuck up. And she is always mean to Delia. I’m not even cool enough to sit with the math nerds or the reject table.

I glanced at the nerd table that Jayden was sitting at, he was just sitting there chewing on his finger nails.

Why is he at school anyway? Shouldn’t he be, like, trying to figure out a way back into the book or something? Unless he came here on purpose?

“Dude, why aren’t you in your book?” I whispered to Jayden as he gathered up his lunch tray, his burger untouched.

He stood straight as a ramrod, as all the color drained from his face.

“What are you talking about?” He asked.

“I know you’re not from here. You’re favorite color is yellow. You’re mother left when you were three. And you don’t like asparagus.” I said.

Jayden swallowed and itched the top of his head. “Um, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, I know you’re lying. You always scratch your head when you’re lying.” I said following him over to the garbage.

“WHAT? How do you know all that stuff?” He asked walking away from the garage can.

“It’s all in here.” I held up his book.

It’s my favorite book so I just always have it in my backpack.

“What is this?” He asked running his fingers over the cover.

I raise my brows. “It’s the book you’re from.” I said.

So he doesn’t know he’s from a book?

He flipped through the pages stopping at a few spots to read.

Jayden stood there silently and raised an eyebrow, after he shut the book. “How?”

“So you didn’t know you were in a book?” I asked.

“No.”

“Well, how did you get here?” I asked leaning against the white brick wall of the cafeteria.

“I was just i—” the bell went off, and everyone hurried to get to Spanish class or study hall. (I had to go to Spanish class though)

***

I spotted Jayden as we got on the bus after school.

“Hey, can we talk?” I asked.

He looked around. “Not here. And what do you want anyway?”

“Duh, I wanna help you get home.” I said, as I sat on a stained seat.

“I don’t need help.” Jayden folded his arms over his chest.

“I don’t believe that.” I said.

“Fine we’ll talk. Here’s my number.” He handed me a piece of paper ripped from the corner of a spiral notebook.

“Ok.” I took it and unfolded it.

“Wait, how do you have a phone? Didn’t you just get here?” I ask.

He looked annoyed, “Just call me.” He said, before turning the music on his headphones back on.

***

“You’re in my seat!” My brother Noah said.

“Seriously? It’s just a seat on the couch. Sit on the other one.” I said.

Noah was 13, and he has PTSD. I don’t know why, he was only eight months old when he saw our dad get mauled by the tiger.

I sighed, not wanting to deal with this anymore. “Fine. Whatever. Have it your way.”

I stood up and carried my world history homework to my room. It was going to take a while to get that homework done. Considering that I payed no attention in world history class today.

Just as I was about to Google when George Washington was born, (why does that matter? The man died like—ok I don’t know when, but it was a long time ago) I decided I should call Jayden. I dug through my backpack for some time, before pulling out the paper with his number on it.

“Hello,” I heard him say on the other line.

“Hey. It’s me.” I said. “I mean—it’s Rosie Lee—the girl who was talking to you at lunch and on the bus.”

“Yeah I know. I could tell it was you. You have a unique voice. Anyways, what did you want to discuss?”

“I told you already. I want to help you get back home. To your book. Who knows what could happen if you do—” suddenly my door swung open. James.

“Mom said you used the scissors last?” James was holding a chip bag in his hands.

I nodded at my phone. “I’m busy” I mouthed.

“Where are the scissors?”

I eyed the chip bag he was holding. “Seriously? You’re using scissors to open a bag of potato chips?”

“So?”

“Come on, hand it over.”

Reluctantly he handed me the chip bag. It was ridiculous that a fourteen year old boy couldn’t even open a bag of potato chips without scissors. I mean come on.

“Rosie. Rosie are you still there?” Jayden’s voice muffled coming through the speakers of my phone. Which was wedged between my shoulder and head.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

I glared at my brother, standing in the doorway.

“My brother is just being a bother, as usual.”

James returned the glare as I popped the bag of chips open and held it out to him.

“See. As easy as opening a bag of potato chips.” I said.

“Funny.” James mumbled walking away with his chips.

“What’s easy?” Jayden asked.

“Oh I was just talking to my brother. Now, what was I saying?”

“You want to help me get back home, but here’s the thing—”

“Yes! Who knows what’ll happen if you don’t go home. You might tear a whole in the time space continuum. You need to get back in the—”

“Rosie, I’m not going back.” He interrupted.

“What?!”

“I’m not going back. Our family—we ran away. Everything—it’s destroyed. We’re not going back. There’s no hope.” His voice was thin and helpless.

“I—I didn’t know…”

“It’s fine.” He said quickly.

“Sorry.” My voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s fine. Are we done here?” He asked.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Umm..” my phone beeped as he hung up.

I just sat there with the phone to my ear, listening to the silence. He isn’t going back? Everything’s destroyed? No hope? How? I can’t help anymore?

***

“So anything new, honey?” Mom asked me sitting on the couch folding laundry.

I thought of telling her what happened with Jayden, but deciding against telling her. She probably wouldn’t believe me, I mean, I probably wouldn’t believe me.

“Nah, same old, same old. School, homework, chores, inhaling rotting fruit fumes during lunch, and opening potato chip bag for James.”

Mom sighed smoothing out one of Noah’s collared shirts. Her black hair uncombed and bags beneath her eyes. She was working herself to the bone being a single mother. She was pale and thin, like a withered old page tucked between the others in a faded book.

“Who were you talking with on the phone the other night, Delia?” She brightened at the idea.

“No. Just some kid from class.” I said hoping to avoid anymore questions.

“Really? What’s her name?” Mom asked, no doubt hoping that I finally made a friend.

“Jayden.”

“Is she new?”

“Yeah. He just moved here.”

“Oh. So you guys are friends?” She asked.

How subtle. Probably wondering how long it’s gonna take for me to get a boyfriend.

“Not exactly.”

Mom raised her eyebrows.

“No. I mean it was just school stuff.”

“Oh,” she folds a sweater, clearly disappointed.

Well she’s going to be disappointed for a long time, because I don’t think a boy is ever going to look twice at me. And I think I’m fine with that.

At first I thought it was kind of weird y’know her wanting me to have a boyfriend. Most parents dread that, but she is a hopeless romantic and unfortunately a Matchmaker. That’s actually one of her jobs. At nights she works for ME+U=LUV.

A dating program specific to setting up math nerds. She works as the official Matchmaker staying up late into the night and reading their profiles. Then selecting “lucky” people to go on dates together.

***

I rushed into English class, almost late.

As I slipped into my desk a tall blonde girl who sits in the desk next to me shot me a look. It wasn’t my fault that they were finally mopping the floor in the hall between the gym and the English classroom so I had to take the long way.

I watched her flinch as the bell rang and Mr. Darrow pulled out a piece of chalk from his desk. In loopy handwriting he wrote ‘who am I?’ Mr. Darrow is our new English teacher, who started just yesterday.

“Over winter break you’re going to be writing essays.”

Everyone vocally expressed their disappointment.

“Not more homework.” The tall blonde girl complained under her breath.

“I would like you all to really think about this question—” he tapped the words on the chalkboard with a piece of chalk for effect.

“Who are you? Now I don’t mean just write ‘my name’s Catherine, I have brown hair and brown eyes. I like wearing skorts and headbands. My favorite food is pizza and my favorite color is green. I live on main street in a stone house, with my two older sisters and my poodle named bubbles.’ “

Mr. Darrow took a quick break to breath. He was tall and skinny with dark hair and his beard cut short. He was probably in his late thirties and reminded me a lot of my mother. He was pale and tired too, with the same gleam of passion in his eyes, except he wasn’t Asian like my mom, he was white.

Finally he spoke again.

“No. I want you to write about who you are on the inside. Your most important desires. Why you wake up in the morning. Who you look up to. What people can’t learn from looking at you and having a quick conversation. This will be a good three to six page essay with at least 1,500 words.”

I sighed, this was going to be difficult.

***

“Two gallons on pump four.” An old woman who had Skeleton-like fingers said.

“That’s four-thirty eight.” I said.

It wasn’t fun working at Mobil the gas station, but we really needed the money. So I spend my weekends working the cash register at Mobil in Brunswick Maine.

“So much money now.” She said sadly.

I just shook my head in response.

The bell on the door chimed as someone entered.

The old woman handed me four one dollar bills. I set them in the cash drawer and handed her her change.

A man in his late twenties or his early thirties set three cans of Spaghettios, a box of Swiss rolls and a lottery ticket on the counter in front of me trying to calm a crying infant in his arms. The baby looked like a small potato with eyes cradled against the man’s huge chest.

I scanned all of his items and handed him his receipt. “Have a good day sir.”

“You too.” He said quickly as he gathered up his bag looping his thick arm through the handles so he could open the door with it and hold the baby with his other arm.

As I stuffed a ten dollar bill into the cash drawer I felt a shadow fall over me. When I looked up I was surprised to see Jayden holding a half gallon of milk.

“Oh, I didn’t know you work here.” He said his eyes wide as he set the milk on the counter and dug around in his pocket looking for money.

As he bent down and pulled out a crumpled five dollar bill a lock of caramel colored hair fell over his forehead, just covering one eye.

“Yeah.” I said ripping off his receipt and sliding it across the counter so our fingers wouldn’t accidently brush against each other when I handed it to him. I don’t know why, but it felt like it would be awkward if I accidently touched him.

“So what did you mean before when you said everything is destroyed?” I said my voice low as I turned my head to make sure that still no one was close enough to hear.

A shadow fell over his face and his smile dissolved.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” I said softly, looking down at my hands.

“It’s fine.” He said, not making eye contact.

“Well,” he sighed, pushing the stray tuft of hair back.

“There’s a man—he’s the king. He made us go to war with Bhaltair—they have the biggest, strongest, and the nastiest army. The Bhaltairians they destroyed the city—the one my family lived in—they won’t stop until the entire country is in ruins. We had to leave. There was nothing else for us—”

A red headed woman in her twenties wearing yoga pants and a cami, walked up to the counter. “Excuse me miss, where is the restroom?”

“Over there.” I pointed to the back of the gas station.

Then glanced at Jayden where he was slouching with his hands in his pockets studying the selection of candy bars.

“Sorry.” I said turning back to him.

“It’s fine. I needed to go anyways. I’ll call you.” He made a phone shape with his hands and put it up to his head as he said that.

“ ‘Kay.” I replied, my eyes following him as he sauntered out the door.

I couldn’t help but remember the lock of caramel colored hair falling over his brown eyes as I counted out a woman’s change.

***

“Do you need help with that, honey?” Mom asked me as I sat at the tiny dinning room table.

“Um, no. I'm fine.” I said answering one of my math problems.

Mom looked relieved and got back to work stirring a pot full of foul smelling soup.

“Is that your famous homemade soup?” I asked.

Mom smiled. “Yup. Grandpa’s recipe.”

“Oh.” I said, trying not to make a disgusted face.

Mom’s soup was famous in our family, but not for being yummy. Grandpa’s recipe called for two cans of cream of mushroom soup, a can of tomato paste, a bag of frozen okra, and a cup of goat cheese. I don’t know why Mom always insists on making that, when cooking up some ramen noodles would be much easier and MUCH more delicious.

Just as I was about to finish my last math problem my phone began ringing.

“Hello?”

“Rosie I need your help.” Jayden said, in a scared voice.

Mom walked over to me and looked curious about who I was talking to.

“Of course. How?” I asked, worriedly.

Now Mom was very intrigued and probably burned the soup. But I just brushed her off and ran into my room, shoving the door closed behind me.

“It's the king. He found out that we escaped. He’s furious. He’s sending his men out to get me and my family. He knows where we live! He will kill us. We need to hide somewhere!” Jayden’s voice wobbled.

“Yes, you guys can hide here. Um, I'll text you the address. But my mother. Oh I know! We live on the first floor of my apartment building, you guys can climb in through my bedroom window.” I said.

“Ummm, okay.” He mumbled. “But what if we put you in danger?”

I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “You won’t. They won’t find you here. Now get over here quick!”

There was a beep when he hung up, and hopefully hurried over here.

To be continued...