Glassford Girl: Boxed Set (Complete Series) (Time Jumper Series)

by Jay J. Falconer

  Junie sat up in the bed next to her, staring at the two of them with wide eyes, shaking her head.

  “Em, that cat looks just like you! Bright-blue eyes and red hair. Pretty weird.”

  “Good morning to you, too. And thanks,” she said, hugging the cat for a two-count.

  “I have to go to school. The breakfast there is way better than the breakfast here. And you need to leave before the morning shift comes in. They’ll be here in like twenty minutes, and you’re not really registered. You know how places like this are about the stupid rules. Everyone gets so uptight.”

  Emily sat up and stretched. “Tell me about it. I don’t want to mess anything up for you and your mom. I guess she never showed up last night, huh?”

  Junie shrugged. “Nope. But like I said, nothing surprises me anymore.”

  Shroedy meowed, arched his spine, then settled back into her lap. Emily scooped him up and put him on the sheet beside her, then swung her legs out of the sheet and sat at the edge of the cot.

  The other residents of the shelter were beginning to stir.

  A woman with an infant at her breast glared at Emily. “No pets allowed,” she said in a mean, surly voice. “Who are you? I’ve never seen you here before. Get that animal out of here or I’ll report you.”

  Emily started to reply, but Junie beat her to it.

  “Leave us alone, Doris. You’re not reporting anyone for anything. Unless you want me to tell Ms. Matheson about what you keep in your thermos? Booze is against house rules, and you’re nursing.”

  Doris backed off, turning away.

  “Got anything else to say, Doris?” Junie snapped, acting like the only grownup in the room. “Didn’t think so.” She turned to Emily. “We’re fine. But you should go. Come meet me after school?”

  “How about later tonight?”

  “Yeah, that’s good too,” Junie said, yawning. She smiled. “Can it be earlier than last night? I want to spend more time with you.”

  “I’ll be here by midnight. Meet me by the side door?”

  “Okay, bye,” Junie said, scurrying out the door, followed closely by Shroedy, whose rigid tail was straight up like a safety flag on a bicycle.

  Emily left soon after. She ducked out the back of the shelter, then walked around to the front door and got in line for the free hot breakfast they served every morning at seven for all the homeless people in the neighborhood.

  * * *

  Derek struggled to keep his eyes open while his English teacher, Mr. Blake Bradley, was droning on about a topic that Derek thought was already mind-numbingly boring: rhetorical analysis of non-fiction writing. He was surprised when he arrived for his first day at the new school and found an Advanced Placement English Literature and Composition class on his schedule. First thing in the morning, no less. Half the kids in the class had their heads down on their desks and were asleep. Probably playing video games all night, he thought.

  His parole supervisor had warned him to expect some challenges now that he had been accepted into the Advanced College Entry Program. It seemed clear to him what his PS really meant to say: expect doubly tough classes in subjects you’ve tested well in. And for Derek, that turned out to be all things reading and writing.

  He studied the handout on his desk—an excerpt from Man’s Search for Meaning by Victor E. Frankl. The words blurred together and swam in front of his eyes, dancing across the page in random formations. He was groggy, having stayed awake until the wee hours of the morning. It had taken him a while to settle down and turn the lights out in his brain—the whole situation with Emily had him wound up and anxious.

  A short while later the classroom bell rang, and Mr. Bradley raised his voice.

  “For tomorrow, I want to see a paragraph of analysis on the Frankl handout from today. Tell me the what, why, and how, based on the lecture I just gave. It should be pretty simple for those of you paying attention. And just a reminder—like we discussed yesterday, first essay is due Monday, and there will be no late papers accepted. We have rules, people. Rules that everyone must adhere to.”

  Mr. Bradley made eye contact with Derek. “Mr. Morgan, I’ll need you to stick around for a moment after class.”

  “Sure thing,” Derek answered, standing up from his desk. He gathered his things and waited for the room to clear. It did. He walked to the desk at the front of the room.

  Mr. Bradley gave him a serious look. “So, the essay I assigned yesterday. First, before you ask—sorry. I can’t give you an extension. I’m aware of your situation, and understand why you missed our first class yesterday, but I was told . . . well, not to cut you any slack. Anyway—at this point, you have two choices. You can either do a rhetorical analysis on any of the non-fiction handouts on the reading list, like we covered in class today. Or you can try what I like to call a little ‘Beat Writing,’ whereby you may interview a public figure, then discuss what they do and why they’re important. Whatever you choose, I need to see at least five pages, double-spaced, and I expect proper grammar, spelling, punctuation, and sentence structure.”

  “Typed?”

  “Yes, typed. Like an actual writer.”

  “Ah, Mr. Bradley? You may not be aware of this, but I live in a group home. It’s part of my deal with the state. The home doesn’t provide us with computers. Too much temptation from porn and other stuff.”

  “Then I’d suggest using the school’s computer lab in the tech building to type them up, or take your school ID and get a public library card so you can use one of their computer stations. They’re free for students.”

  He handed Derek a class syllabus. “Everything I just mentioned is in here, in the ‘Writing Assignments’ section. Any questions?”

  “I think I got it. Thanks, Mr. Bradley.”

  “That’s what I’m here for, Mr. Morgan. As long as you do your best, show up on time and be here every day, you’ll be good with me. It’s time to buckle down, son. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Derek stuffed the syllabus in his backpack and walked into the bustling, crowded hallway. Students whizzed past him in all directions, changing course and narrowly missing each other as they carried on with their between-class agendas. Some had their heads buried in their cell phone, texting and tweeting away, while others seemed to be sleepwalking, staring off into space with a glazed look in their eyes.

  “Gonna be a long day,” he muttered.

  An unattractive girl with frizzy black hair, braces, and freckles smiled at him and flashed a quick hand wave, nearly walking face-first into an open locker.

  “A really long day,” he added.

  He gave the homely girl a quick head bob then exhaled, preparing himself for the next boring class: U. S. Government. He hadn’t been in school for over a year, unless you counted prison as a school. He could tell this place wasn’t going to be a cakewalk. He only had one class under his belt and he already had hours of homework to do, leaving little time for Emily, or anything else.

  Shit.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  Late that same day, Emily was sitting on a bench by the entrance to Burton Barr Public Library with a bag of Twinkies in her hand when Derek strolled up carrying a book bag over his shoulder. The abundant moonlight gave her a clear view of his face—he looked tired, or maybe he was a little depressed.

  “Heya,” he said, looking at her with those hypnotic blue eyes.

  “Heya right back,” she answered, sending him a warm smile. She wanted to jump all over him right then and there, but didn’t. “Is something wrong?”

  “Long day. I’m not so sure about this school thing.”

  “Why?”

  “AP classes require tons of homework. Doesn’t leave much time for anything else, like a social life,” he said with a stale tone to his voice. He leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek. “You look amazing.”

  She blushed. “All I needed was a good night’s sleep. I clean up good, huh?”

  “Yep. How’s Junie?”

&nbs
p; “Cute as a bug, like always. I just love that girl. But her mom—she’s another story. I’m worried that Junie’s on her own way too much. That’s a recipe for trouble.”

  “For Junie or her mom?”

  “Both. I wish there was more I could do for her.”

  “I know you feel connected and want to protect her, but she’s not your responsibility. She has a mom for that.”

  “You’re right, but she really needs a better role model in her life.”

  “Who? You?”

  “No, I’m the last person she needs to be hanging around, except for maybe her deadbeat mom. I’ve got way too many issues of my own to deal with.”

  “That’s an understatement.”

  “Hey, dude. Nobody’s holding a gun to your head. You know the deal. It’s not like I can control any of this.”

  “Technically, I know some of the deal, but that’s not what I meant. I was agreeing with you that you aren’t the best role model for Junie. Neither am I, or anyone we know, except maybe that Jim guy. At least he has a job and a house; what’s left of it, anyway.”

  “Sorry, I thought you meant something else.”

  “No worries. It’s all good. I’m just completely spent and a little edgy.”

  “Edgy?”

  “Okay, I’m a cranky bastard when I get tired. There, I said it. I know I can be an asshole at times. Sorry. It’s not your fault. I got myself into this mess. Nobody to blame but me.”

  She played with the strap hanging around his broad shoulder. “I really like your book bag. It makes you look mighty studious. Kinda sexy, too.”

  “If you say so. Looks like I’m gonna be lugging it around everywhere I go. It’s my new ball and chain.”

  “I’m sure you won’t be the only one in the library who has one. You’ll fit right in.”

  “Great. They’re turning me into another nerd in the herd.”

  She laughed.

  He gestured to the Twinkies. “Those for me?”

  “Nope. They’re for my computer friend, which you’ll be thankful I have. My buddy Sheldon will totally hook us up and let us use a station without a card. Usually longer than the one-hour limit, too, as long as I bring him Twinkies. Sort of a bribe, I guess. Plus, I can sneak us past the front desk easy-peasy, too.”

  “Buddy? Should I be jealous?”

  “Of Sheldon? God, no. It’s not like that at all. He barely even knows anything about me. We’re just friends. I’m just thankful he’s always willing to help me.”

  Derek hesitated, then spoke. “I have to ask, Em. How did you pay for ‘em? Let’s be honest, they’re not exactly giving Twinkies away at the shelter. And I know you don’t have any money.”

  “It’s classified,” she said, letting a full smile erupt on her lips. “If I told you, then I’d have to shoot you. Let’s just say that this girl’s got skills.”

  “So, that’s what we’re calling it now?”

  “Sure, why not? A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.” She grabbed his hand and yanked him toward the library. “C’mon. I’ll show you how a teenage ninja-girl sneaks into Burton Barr.”

  He stopped her and held up his student ID card. “Actually, I’m supposed to sign up for a free access card. They just gave me one of these. Might as well use it. I’ll be here a lot, I’m afraid.”

  She looked at the photo. “What? No smile?”

  “By then, I wasn’t in the mood. The lady working the camera was older than dirt and smelled like BO. It was all I could do to just sit there and not say something. I’m trying, Em, I really am, but this isn’t gonna be easy for me. Schedules and people telling me what to do all the time isn’t something I’m used to. I just got my freedom and already I feel like I’m back in jail.”

  “It’s only the first day, sweetie. Give it some time. You need to do this. You can’t live on the streets forever. It’s the first step toward a brand-new future. A future I can’t have. So, if nothing else, do it for me. Okay?”

  He paused. “You’re right,” he said, taking her by the hand and leading her across the street and through the front entrance to the main desk. Emily waited as Derek used his new school ID to sign up for a library card and be issued a temporary Internet access pass.

  When Derek finished, she latched onto his arm and pulled him away.

  “It’s this way, babe. I think you’re really going to like Sheldon. He’s one of the smartest people you’re ever going to meet. He’s taught me everything I know about computers and stuff.”

  She gave Derek the pack of yellow sponge cake. “I think you should give him these. Break the ice. It never hurts to have a friend like him, especially since there’s no guarantee I’ll be with you every time.”

  Derek shook his head and gave the Twinkies back to her. “Oh, so you want me to meet my competition?”

  She punched him in the arm. “Shut up. I told you, it’s not like that. And he’d be mad if I came in without at least saying hi.”

  She walked Derek to the desk where Sheldon worked. Her computer friend was sitting on a stool behind the counter, focused on what he was reading. Emily waved the Twinkies under his nose, then dropped them on the desk. He looked up and smiled.

  “Emily! Awesome. You need a comp—” he said, stopping in mid-sentence when he saw Derek. A confused look took control of his face. “Uh,” he stammered, looking down at his books, then over her shoulder, then at Derek, then back at her. She’d never seen him so flustered.

  “Sheldon, this is my friend, Derek,” she said, wondering if she should’ve used the term boyfriend. She glanced at Derek and his pinched eyes told her the answer. “My boyfriend, Derek. The one I’ve been telling you about.”

  “Uh, I don’t re—”

  “Sure you do, sweetie. I talk about him all the time,” she said, looking at Derek, then back at Sheldon, whose face seemed unusually stiff, even for him.

  Derek held his hand out. “Nice to meet you,” he said, using a lower voice than usual.

  Sheldon looked at Derek, but didn’t say anything.

  “Sheldon!” Emily snapped like a disappointed mother.

  “Huh?” Sheldon replied, blinking rapidly.

  “Say hello to Derek.”

  “Ummm, oh, okay. Ri–right. Hi, nice to meet you,” he said with a stutter, but never put his hand out for a shake. His eyes dropped to the clutter on the desk in front of him.

  Derek dropped his arm. “So, you and Emily are friends?”

  Sheldon looked up. “Yes, yes, we are . . . friends. That’s right. I . . . uh . . . I let her use the computers here. When she needs them. Friends. Yep. That’s what we are. Friends.”

  Sheldon stared at Emily and cleared his throat. His voice was still breaking. “The–the usual?”

  “That’s cool, dude, but we have a card,” Derek said to him before Emily could answer. “The front desk lady told us we could use the lab on the second floor. You know, for a little privacy.”

  “Okay, yeah, that’s right, if you have a card. Second floor. Right. Don’t have to stay down here. It’s not like I’ve been saving it for you or anything.”

  “See ya,” Emily said to her friend. “Enjoy your snack.”

  “Yeah, Em, I will, ah, thanks.” He opened the package and crammed an entire Twinkie in his mouth. “You’re the best,” he said with his mouth full.

  Emily blew him a kiss. “Nope, Sheldie. You are. Thank you!”

  Sheldon grinned and kept chewing, with yellow cake and cream frosting spilling out of the sides of his mouth.

  Emily and Derek left Sheldon and his stuffed chipmunk cheeks behind and traveled up the wide central staircase of the library to the second floor—just like any normal pair of library users might. Emily was not used to being an ordinary person, usually having to sneak around everywhere she went. It was definitely a new experience for her, something that she was starting to enjoy. It took a lot of the inherent pressure off her, always having to live her life a certain way, trying to stay off the radar
and not be noticed.

  Enjoy the simple things, she reminded herself.

  Halfway up the stairs, Derek stopped on one of the steps, turned, and gave her a serious look.

  “Are you ever going to tell me?” he snapped.

  “Tell you what?”

  “Where you were? What you were going to tell Duane that day before the movie? What happens to you when you disappear? How the Orange Man fits into all of this? What happened to your mom? Everything. Every last detail.”

  “Really? Now? Here?”

  “I know. But Jesus, Em.”

  “Listen, babe. I really want to. But I also don’t want to. It’s tough for me because as much as I want to share everything with you, it’s all just a little too horrible to talk about. You don’t need to be burdened with it. You’ve got your own stuff to deal with. Besides, you’ll probably think I’m crazy. Because I guarantee you, I will sound crazy, and I don’t want us to stop doing—whatever it is we’re doing. This—what we have—right here, right now, is too important to me. It’s the only good thing in my life.”

  “What about Junie?”

  He was right. “Yes, her, too. Oh, and a cat.”

  “That’s three things.”

  “Yeah, but you’re missing my point. I just need to keep everything simple.”

  Derek paused, obviously thinking it over. He nodded. “Okay, I get it. I’m sorry. Been a long day and I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

  “It happens.”

  “I’ll tell you what. How about we do this; I won’t ask you about it anymore—but to be fair, you can’t ask me about my past—the Locos, my parents, my problems, anything. How about we agree to just live in the moment and forget everything that happened before we met. Like you said, keep it simple.”

  “Deal. I knew you’d understand. Thank you.”

  He gave her a warm, charming smile. “Just trying to keep it real, babe.”

  She hugged him, squeezing his cheek against hers.

  Emily whispered into his ear, “This is where I want to be. Right now. With you. Nothing else matters. You’re my everything. I hope you know that.”

  She let go and looked at him, waiting for him to say something, but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned in and kissed her on the mouth for a full second, then they walked up the stairs.