observed by
scientists wherein a particle may be tweaked and another moves miles away.
They’ve seen this movement and without any discernable connection between the
two. Scientists have theorized the connection between the particles is in some
other dimension.”
“So what you’re saying is if someone were
sucked through the floor and replaced with someone—or
something—else, then the two may have been entangled together?”
What if Juliette and Franky were entangled with those monsters? What would that mean?
“There’s a book about string theory that
might interest you called The Elegant Universe. I'll lend it to you if you
like." Mr. Hutson laughed again. “Of course, there’s a totally different
explanation. Some ministers they might say if such a whirlpool had opened under
me I was probably sucked into hell.” He stood up and placed another file folder
in his briefcase. “Good thing the floor can’t open up and swallow me down.”
“Yeah. Good thing.”
Wandering the halls while my mind raced,
I almost missed my locker. As I rummaged inside it, Petra bound up and skidded
to a halt.
“Senji told me some batshit crazy stuff
about last night,” she said in a disgusted tone. “Oh there he is now.”
Glancing over my shoulder I saw Senji
barreling down on us.
“WTF?” Senji pushed his glasses up and
fidgeted with agitation. But he seemed excited too. Happy in a way. The science
geek probably enjoyed this. “Wasn’t last night unbelievable?”
I said nothing. I couldn’t.
“Juliette and Franky. And those things?
What were those?” His excited tone made me want to punch him in this Asian
nose.
“I’m not buying, Senji. It’s crazy,”
Petra said.
“Man. It was so totally crazy but so
completely true.” He pushed his glasses up again.
Petra turned to me. “He’s just trying to
punish me for convincing Chase to go on our date rather than the spelunk,
right?”
“No.” I found my government class text
but needed my notebook. “He’s not lying.”
“How would you know anyway?” Petra
playfully hit my arm with her calculus text. “You weren’t even there. You were
out with Rom.”
“Rom and I had a fight so I went to the
spelunk.” The notebook had slipped to the back and I pulled it free. “I wish I
hadn’t.” I closed the locker. In the process I fumbled and my armload fell to
the floor. The notebook landed open.
“Come on, Kizzy. Enough is enough. This
is taking a joke too far.”
My eyes met Petra’s. “It’s not a joke.”
The smile slipped off her face. “Omigod.”
I bent to gather my stuff from the floor
and saw the notebook had opened to the page I’d stuck the post-it to yesterday.
Harold Anderson along with a telephone number and address. What had the
librarian said? Anderson knew about “oddities”.
“What are you going to do about the
tunnel?” Petra asked.
“Nothing.”
“You have to,” Senji insisted. “What
about Juliette? What about Franky?”
“Why is it on me?” I yelled. “Why don’t
you two do something?”
“But—” Petra began.
“Enough!”
Running away from them and down the hall,
I spotted the women’s restroom. It beckoned like a sanctuary and I darted
inside. Standing before the bank of mirrors over the sinks, I examined myself.
The pallid and drawn face in the mirror couldn’t be mine, but it was.
The door swung open and Petra rushed in.
Before she could say anything I scooted into one of the stalls and pushed the
metal door closed in her face. Lowering the lid on the toilet I sat down.
Scratched into the metal stall wall,
graffiti bore the message: Tara sucks.
So does Kizzy , I thought. Kizzy sucks .
“Talk to me.” Petra spoke from the other
side of the metal door.
“Leave me alone,” I said. “I’m trying to
pee.”
“You are not. You’re trying to avoid me.
You wanna close yourself off like you did when Adam…” She pounded a hand on the
door and I jumped. “But I’m not letting you.”
The