Capsule

by Mel Torrefranca

  “At least have breakfast with us. Look—Grace even made this for you. Maybe you can drink it instead of that gross health tea you always have.”

  “It’s wheatgrass juice, Mom.” Peter turned around to see Mrs. Moon holding a mug of mystery fluid with a giant dollop of whipped cream on top. If Grace had made the drink, it had to be hot chocolate. When they were both in elementary school, they’d sit in front of the fireplace together binge-watching episodes of Avatar: The Last Airbender by the dozen, topping their drinks with whipped cream whenever the last blob melted.

  Peter approached the stretched dining table, a majority of the cushioned white seats resting untouched for years. He was embarrassed to admit that the concept of drinking hot chocolate was enticing—but it was.

  “Mom made it,” Grace corrected with a glare. “Not me.”

  Mrs. Moon set the mug onto the table and sat. “But it was your idea.” She’d say whatever it took to bring Peter and Grace together, and it made them both eager to crawl into a dark cave and die.

  Grace crossed her arms as Mr. Moon pushed the hot chocolate across the table—closer to the side that Peter stood by now. Peter took the mug, but the moment he brought the drink to his face, the smell wasn’t as pleasant as he remembered it being. The sickly sweet aura of sugar killed off the spark he’d originally felt, and nausea struck him. He lowered the drink from his lips.

  The stack of pancakes on the table told him the true story. He knew what this was really about. His parents weren’t being nice to him because today was his birthday. They were using his birthday as an opportunity to push him to change. Their real mission was to bring back the old Peter Moon, and he wished that for once they’d accept him for who he was. But if they couldn’t grant him acceptance even as a birthday present, when would they ever?

  “Do you want some bacon too?” Mr. Moon asked.

  Peter noticed himself slouching and straightened his posture. “You know I’m pescatarian.”

  “And why?” Grace hadn’t touched the plate of pancakes in front of her. She drew lines in the syrup with the prongs of her fork. “Why are you avoiding meat all of a sudden?”

  “It’s not all of a sudden. It’s been almost two years.” Peter shook his head, regretful for approaching the dining table in the first place. He set the hot chocolate onto the transparent table with a satisfying click and took a step back. “I gotta go.”

  “I’ll drive you.” Mrs. Moon stood from the table a second time. “It’ll be faster.”

  “Not worth the trouble.”

  “Your school’s on the way to work.”

  “I already sit in a classroom for seven hours a day.” Peter slipped his white sneakers on and leaned over to tie them, sparing an extra moment to ensure that each lace hung at an equal length. “At least biking can make up for some of it.”

  At exactly 8:42, Peter stepped onto the tiled terrace and shut the door behind him. He checked the time on his phone as he approached the glimmering red bike leaned against the exterior wall. It was one of his personal goals to have perfect attendance this year—he wrote it in his planner and everything—but now he’d messed it up. And on his birthday too.

  Yay seventeen!

  23:38:42

  JACKIE RAISED HER heavy head from the cushion of her arms to find herself at a wooden desk. The boy with the golden glasses had playfully poked her with his pencil, students staring at the back of the room as she rubbed the confusion out of her brows.

  Where am I?

  Mr. Berkshire snapped the cap onto his whiteboard marker, drawing her attention to the front of the room. “Dozing off, are you?”

  The digital clock on the wall read 8:57, twenty-seven minutes after the start of class, but she hadn’t remembered falling asleep. She also couldn’t remember choosing her outfit this morning, which was apparently a ribbed blue top tucked into her black jeans. The only memory she had from earlier was the car ride to school with Jay, but even that was a blur.

  Jackie studied the room for something off, some explanation behind her sudden slumber in the middle of first period, but Mr. Berkshire’s class matched its usual levels of gloomy and bland.

  The teacher’s focus drifted away from Jackie, landing on the empty desk to the right of her. His shoulders relaxed as he uncrossed his arms. “That’s strange. He’s always on time.” Mr. Berkshire referred to the seating chart resting on his desk. “Peter Moon. Does anyone know if he’s sick?”

  The boy next to Jackie broke into a laughing fit, the lemony lights of the classroom shimmering on his golden glasses. “He’s been sick since 2004.”

  The class joined him in laughter, leaving Jackie with a dull ache in her stomach. Could it be deja vu? She was almost positive she’d heard the boy next to her say that exact line before.

  Mr. Berkshire frowned at the sea of cackling students, not that it would result in a silent room. Before he could raise his voice on the obnoxious kids, the door busted open, and Peter stepped inside with eager footsteps and a shaky voice.

  “Sorry I’m late.”

  Peter slammed the door behind him, drowning the laughter to its end. Judging by the way he flinched at the silence that fell across the room, his intrusive entrance had been unintentional.

  Some students whispered while others sniggered, both groups eyeing Peter as he weaved around desks to the empty seat next to Jackie in the furthest row. Mr. Berkshire sat and marked Peter present on his roll sheet.

  Peter unpacked his belongings at record speed. His urgency to catch up with the class after his late arrival was so strong it even left her anxious, which was odd considering how he’d always come across as over-confident and self-righteous in his blog entries.

  Wait, his blog. Jackie faced the numbers Mr. Berkshire had left printed across the whiteboard in computer-font handwriting. How do I know about Moral Moon? They’d never even spoken to each other before. And now that she thought of it, how did she know that he didn’t use social media? How did she know that he disappeared?

  Jackie set her hands around the book resting in the corner of her desk, but she lacked the willpower to open it, a muddle of crazy memories spinning through her mind. Mr. Berkshire had announced Peter Moon and Kat Pike missing on the same day that strange app had appeared. Jackie leaned over and plucked the phone from her rucksack. She swiped to the home screen’s final page, and there—next to Clash of Clans—stood Capsule. It really hadn’t been her imagination.

  Jackie rested her phone onto the desk and observed her classmates closely. Why is everyone acting so normal? Peter had been missing for days, but the class reacted as though the only strange thing about Peter showing up to class was that he had shown up to class late. The real mystery was why he’d shown up at all. What happened to Peter Moon being gone? Why did the rumors disappear? And the fear that once filled every inch of Brookwood High—where was it now?

  Mr. Berkshire sat at his desk, scrolling through his laptop to find notes for the next part of his lecture. Jackie scooted her plastic chair to the right, catching the attention of her classmates seated nearby, but they lost interest quickly and returned to skimming through the pages Mr. Berkshire had assigned for them to read.

  Now a few inches closer to Peter, Jackie leaned over the aisle. At first he didn’t see her—he sat hunched over his notebook as he took notes—but when Jackie whispered, his pen came to a halt.

  “Dude,” Jackie said, “where were you?”

  Peter raised his brows, but he still didn’t face her. It wasn’t common for someone to choose to speak to him, especially not the quietest kid in class. His eyes drifted to the whiteboard again, pen bolting into action.

  Jackie would normally linger over his rude choice to ignore her, but she instead scooted her chair back into place and directed her attention to the boy at her left. He caught her gaze instantly, as though he were simply waiting for a ball of gossip to be t
hrown his direction.

  “Does that mean Kat’s back too?” Jackie asked under her breath.

  The boy with the golden glasses grinned too eagerly, excited for some exclusive news. “Back from where?”

  Jackie’s face went red. She was about to reach for her textbook to mask her strange behavior when a date written near the corner of the whiteboard caught her attention. Friday, April 2nd. Perhaps Mr. Berkshire hadn’t updated the board? Jackie checked the calendar app on her phone. Friday, April 2nd—the day Peter and Kat had disappeared. How was that possible?

  Jackie tapped the Capsule app to reveal a page she hadn’t seen before. THE SUBJECTS PETER MOON AND KATHABELLE PIKE WILL MEET THEIR DEMISE AT THE END OF THE COUNTDOWN. COMPLETE THE LEVELS IN TIME TO WIN THE GAME, ERASE THE MEMORIES, AND REVERSE THE DAY.

  Following those brief instructions was a draining string of numbers that appeared to be counting down from twenty-four hours. Five lines stood below the countdown, each labeled the name of a level. LEVEL ONE was the only line written in bold.

  On April 5th, Mr. Berkshire had announced Peter Moon and Kat Pike as missing.

  “I’m sure many of you have heard the news,” the teacher had said. “Two students from Brookwood High, Peter Moon and Kat Pike, were reported missing on Friday night.”

  But according to the date on the whiteboard as well as the date on her phone, it was still April 2nd. Peter Moon—the boy who had gone missing—was still here.

  Jackie couldn’t focus on the geometry lesson. She analyzed Peter’s every move, although she didn’t have much to analyze. He tapped his foot against the floor and spun his pencil when he wasn’t writing, but he never once averted his attention from the whiteboard or his notebook. He was obsessed with school like any other day.

  The bell rang. Peter shoved everything into his backpack faster than he’d taken the items out.

  Jackie grabbed her rucksack and followed Peter to the door. Although she despised the idea of talking to him, especially after he’d ignored her earlier in class, she knew that if she didn’t, she’d never find answers to the game.

  Just say it. Jackie trailed behind Peter down the hall, trying to rally the courage to call his name, but failing. Come on, dude. How else can you figure out what’s going on?

  As more students exited from their classrooms, the hall grew more crowded. Jackie struggled to stay close behind Peter as students cut and shoved past her. She used his red shirt as a guide to direct herself, but all it did was remind her of the growing distance between them as the block of color shrunk.

  Envisioning the countdown in her mind, Jackie shouted his name—which luckily only brought a few extra stares in her direction—but had Peter heard?

  The blob of red in the distance came to a halt. Peter turned around, their eyes linking clearly, occasionally broken by a student or two who shot between them in a flash.

  It was the first time she’d ever looked Peter in the eyes, but it wasn’t at all how she’d imagined it to be. His face was too soft to be the kind of face to call people such horrible things on his blog. She couldn’t imagine those words leaving his mouth—or even his fingertips. A strike of guilt sliced through her at the image of Peter’s locker. People had seen the worst in him, but Jackie couldn’t imagine him being guilty of what they’d accused.

  Peter walked against the hallway traffic on the way to Jackie, but she took a step back, unsure of what to say now that she’d caught his attention. In a panic she turned sharply in the opposite direction, crashing into a girl breezing by.

  “Shit!” The girl winced and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “You don’t just turn around in the hall like that.”

  “Sorry, I…” Jackie regained her balance and froze at the sight of the girl’s perfect blond locks dangling from her ponytail, her glittering green eyes, and the artistic arrangement of freckles across her cheeks. How was it even possible for someone to be so photogenic?

  “Oh yikes, bad luck.” Peter planted himself by their sides, arms crossed. “Looks like you bumped into the famous, entitled feline.” His words sounded like something from Moral Moon, but the smile on his face cushioned the phrase to nothing more than a playful jab.

  “You’re Kathabelle Pike?” Jackie could hardly believe the resemblance to her Instagram photos. It was like her two-dimensional self had been cloned into the real world, her features identical down to the angle of her winged cat eyeliner. Even her outfit was accurate to the funky style Jackie had seen online—a white top with a sunflower embroidered at the chest, neon pink socks, and her classic faux leather combat boots. She did look shorter in person, though. Not much taller than Jackie.

  “It’s Kat.” Her transparent windbreaker rustled as she tightened the grip on her shoulder. “But yeah, of course I am.”

  “Well of course she is.” Peter raised his brows, leaning forward with a crooked grin. His voice was long and drawn-out, letting each vowel fill the air with maximum volume. “Of course you’re Kat Pike. Everyone knows who you are. You’re like a god around here. I guess your only imperfection is an extremely low pain tolerance.”

  His voice grew raspier. More condescending. Jackie might’ve even used the word aggressive. Maybe he really did mean everything he wrote on his blog.

  “Oh shut up, Peter.” Kat released her arm with red cheeks, and Jackie stepped away, afraid Kat might resort to physical violence.

  Peter bowed. “As you wish, Your Majesty.” When he straightened his back, he had a hand over his mouth and nose, but his squinting made his concealed smile obvious.

  Jackie’s focus jumped between Peter and Kat. The two had sent the entire school into a panic. Their disappearances had been a huge ordeal, but apparently Jackie was the only person who remembered anything about it. Students passed Peter and Kat as though seeing them in the halls again was completely normal.

  Kat took a deep breath before storming off, throwing herself into Jackie’s own shoulder in the process. Jackie stared at the wall in shock, fazed more by the girl’s rude behavior than the numbness in her arm.

  When Kat’s pineapple-colored backpack disappeared at the end of the hall, Peter dropped his hand from his mouth. “Well, that was unsurprisingly dramatic.” He shook his head as he reverted his focus to Jackie. “Do you need something?”

  Jackie opened her mouth, but only air came out. What was she supposed to say? Where could she even start?

  Peter nodded at her confusion. “Nice talk.” Creases formed between his brows as he turned in the same direction of the hall he’d come from.

  Jackie scoffed, half annoyed by his behavior and half in disbelief that Peter was walking away with no memory of ever going missing.

  She merged with the bustling crowd of students leaving the math building and entered the main outdoor hallway, nothing but a long stretch of concrete leading to the different wings of Brookwood High—history, science, math, language, art. Jackie rubbed away the goosebumps on her arms as she entered the science building and slowed her pace by Peter’s locker near the middle of the hall.

  Jackie leaned forward, searching the metal for signs of the nasty messages people had written, but they weren’t there. The cruel phrases the short-haired girl had failed to remove no matter how hard she scrubbed had now vanished without a trace.

  Jackie’s phone vibrated. She pulled the phone out of her back pocket and leaned against Peter’s locker.

  How’s brick and mortar school going?

  The hallway finally started to clear out, a sign that Jackie should probably be in history class by now. Fine, she typed. Btw, do you remember those two missing kids I told you about? She gripped her phone tighter as the typing icon appeared from Eugene’s side of the Discord chat.

  What missing kids?

  The hallway grew colder, and the lockers lost their teal color, fading into a dark gray. Eugene’s message had confirmed her new reality.
Starting the countdown had brought Jackie back in time, which meant she had less than twenty-four hours to complete the levels and prevent Peter and Kat’s demise—whatever that meant.

  Jackie swiped out of her conversation with Eugene and navigated to the Capsule app. She held her breath as she tapped LEVEL ONE beneath the countdown, triggering a pop-up with the phrase BOOK CLUB.

  Like, the one at Brookwood? Jackie knew her high school had a book club, although she had no clue what room it was located in. Am I supposed to go there?

  The bell rang, and Jackie looked up from her phone to find herself in an empty hall. Although she had the urge to search for the book club meeting room, she’d most likely get caught by one of the school admin scouring the halls, so she headed for her history class instead.

  Lunch. Jackie tucked her phone into the side pocket of her rucksack as the bell faded away. I’ll go at lunch.

  #013

  WHAT KIND OF parents name their kids Kathabelle and Emmeline? Probably the same to raise an attention-seeking bitch. You do realize Kat only pretends to hate her full name to get unnecessary compliments, right? I can’t count the amount of times I’ve heard people say, “Why does she go by Kat? Kathabelle sounds so pretty!”

  Let me tell you a sad fact: Brookwood High has exactly 2,976 idiots. Every single one of you falls into her manipulative traps. She’s nothing more than an entitled feline with a fake smile. She demands attention, and people hand it to her in endless supply. She posts a picture, people comment. She switches up her style for the millionth time, everyone notices. But guess what? Kat’s family is just as broke and clueless as your neighbor across the street, so stop treating her like she’s royalty and study for those chem tests you keep failing.

  Moon.

  19:40:17

  JACKIE SQUEEZED BETWEEN sweaty students in the history hall. She had nearly twenty hours left on the countdown, which averaged to four hours per level, but she had no clue how they worked, let alone how long they’d take.