[Transcend Time 04.0] Transcendence

by Michelle Madow

  I jerked my head up in surprise. “How do you know I wouldn’t be up for ditching?”

  “Just a guess.” He smirked. “If you’re up for it, my car’s outside.”

  I paused, considering what to do. I’d never skipped before, but my lab partner in genetics was also in my French class, and I wasn’t in the mood to further defend my knowledge of world geography.

  “Actually,” he spoke without waiting for my response. “Forget I asked. You should go to class.” Without waiting for me to answer, he started walking down the hall. “But I’ll see you tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder before turning around the corner.

  * * *

  “You’ll never guess what happened in chemistry,” Chelsea said, dropping her trigonometry book on the desk next to mine and sitting down. She always came straight to class to make sure she had enough time before the first bell to rehash the recent conversations she’d had with Drew. It was hard to smile and nod as Chelsea talked about him, but at least I was feeling better about the French quiz after Hannah helped me figure out how much the D would impact my final grade while we were in drawing. It wasn’t as terrible as I’d thought, and as long as I started to do better on quizzes and tests, my grade shouldn’t suffer too badly. I was also glad that Hannah believed me when I told her I didn’t think Hawaii was a foreign country.

  “Let me guess,” I said, returning to Chelsea’s question. “It has to do with Drew?”

  “We’re going to the movies on Saturday night!” she squealed, leaning forward in excitement.

  I dropped my pencil in shock. “He asked you?”

  “Well…I asked him. And I sort of said I was going to the movies with you and Jeremy and didn’t want to be a third wheel,” she sneaked in, fidgeting in her seat. “You’ll come, right?”

  “Sure,” I said, keeping my voice level. “I’ll have to ask Jeremy, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”

  She barely let me finish my sentence before speaking again. “This will be so much fun!” She beamed. “Thank you so much. Next time you need me to do anything, I’m there. Not that I wouldn’t be otherwise, but you know what I mean.”

  “Anytime,” I said, the word sounding strained as I spoke it. Out of all the guys in school, of course Chelsea had to go for Drew. She was clueless about my feelings for him, but it was impossible to not be irritated.

  I picked up my pencil and started doodling on an empty page of my notebook, trying to clear my thoughts of everything involving Drew and Chelsea.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. I must not have been doing a good job at hiding my feelings.

  “I’m fine.” I smiled in a way that I hoped was convincing. “I just got a bad grade on my French quiz, and it’s bothering me a bit.”

  “One bad quiz grade won’t destroy your average,” she assured me, shaking her head like it wasn’t a big deal. “It was only a quiz, and you’re really smart. I know you can do well.”

  The guilt hit immediately. “Thanks,” I said, knowing she meant it.

  For the rest of the class, I couldn’t forget the conversation I’d had with Drew earlier in the day. Technically I wasn’t doing anything wrong by having him tutor me, but it felt like I was going behind Chelsea and Jeremy’s back. And I still couldn’t figure out why he offered to help me in the first place. Perhaps he wanted to ask about Chelsea, since our being friends must have come up in one of their conversations. However, I doubted that was the case—Drew didn’t seem like the type to fish for information when he was interested in a girl—he would probably just go for it.

  So what if he was doing that, but with me instead of Chelsea?

  CHAPTER 5

  Drew would be arriving in the library soon, and I debated bringing up the double date planned for tomorrow night. I leaned back in the beanbag and took a deep breath, telling myself not to worry. There was no need to make this complicated. When Jeremy got out of soccer practice, I would just let him know about the plans. We’d gone on double dates with Chelsea and whatever guy she was seeing at the time many times before. The big difference this time was that she would be there with Drew, who I couldn’t seem to get out of my mind.

  Glancing out the large window, I attempted to refocus by taking in the colors of fall. The late September leaves looked like a pointillist painting with the various colors of reds, oranges, and yellows, and I took out my sketchbook and colored pencils and began drawing the scene outside, concentrating on the trees as I tried to represent them to the best of my ability.

  “I didn’t know you were an artist.” Drew’s now familiar voice caught me by surprise. I must have been so involved in drawing that I didn’t hear him enter.

  Placing my pencil down in the crease of the book, I turned to look at him as he clicked the door shut. The temperature had dropped enough in the past few weeks that his leather jacket no longer looked out of place, and his dark eyes focused on me, the same way they had when we spoke in the hallway the day before.

  “I like to sketch things sometimes,” I said, shrugging and looking down at the drawing. “I’m not that good.”

  “Would you mind if I look?” he asked, remaining in place as he waited for me to respond.

  “Sure,” I said without a second thought. “It’s just for class though. Nothing too elaborate.”

  Instead of waiting for me to get up and hand him the book, he moved to sit next to me on the beanbag, leaving only a few inches between us. It was impossible to think straight with him sitting so close, and I tried to stay calm, not wanting him to know the effect his presence had on me. Reminding myself that he’d asked to see my sketches, I pushed the book in his direction.

  “It looks good,” he said, comparing it to the scene outside. I didn’t know if I was imagining it or not, but there seemed to be a trace of disappointment in his tone.

  Maybe he didn’t like scenery drawings.

  “I have some other stuff, too,” I said, flipping through the pages to show him the sketch from the first day of school—the one of the girl in the flowing dress.

  He was quiet as he pulled the book towards him. My heart thumped in my chest as I watched him study it, wondering if he was silent because he loved it, or if he didn’t like it and was trying to figure out what to say so it sounded like he did.

  He grazed the paper with his thumb, taking in every line with his touch. “This is beautiful,” he finally said, lifting his eyes to meet mine.

  My cheeks flushed, and I looked back down at the drawing. “Thanks,” I said softly, taking the sketchbook back and placing it on my lap. “Jeremy hated it. I’m glad to know it isn’t completely awful.”

  “Jeremy’s wrong,” he said, his eyes becoming darker than their normal shade of chocolate. “He must be completely blind.”

  I shrugged. “He just likes my sketches of scenery better. And when I draw him playing soccer.”

  He glanced at the sketch again. “This is more interesting than Jeremy playing soccer.”

  “I have a few more like it,” I said, surprised at my willingness to share the drawings.

  “Can I see?” he asked, waiting for my response instead of grabbing it like Jeremy had on the first day of school.

  He made an effort to not brush against my hand again when I handed it back over, and I lowered my eyes, trying not to show my disappointment.

  My palms became clammy as he examined each drawing, surprised by how he appeared to appreciate each one of them. I viewed each one along with him—the first being the girl who resembled myself in what I’d discovered was a white morning dress from the early nineteenth century. She ate breakfast on a wooden porch overlooking a grassy yard that disappeared into a forest. In the next she laid on a felt-cushioned sofa, reading a novel by a lit fireplace while the setting sun cast shadows on her face through the rectangular window in the back of the room. Many sketches came after this, consisting of letter writing, playing cards, and riding horses. Drew leafed through them wordlessly, studying each page with the same intensity as
the last. I was afraid to breathe, scared that the slightest sound would break the spell of silence.

  He reached the end and lifted his gaze from the book for the first time in several minutes. “Where did you get the ideas for these?” he asked.

  “We’re reading Pride and Prejudice in my English class,” I explained. “I guess it inspired me.”

  He nodded in agreement. “It’s a good book.”

  “Something about it seems so familiar,” I said, trying to figure out how to explain. “I have such clear images of what everything must have looked like back then, and I can draw them so easily. It’s like the scenes are right in front of me instead of only in my mind.”

  His gaze never wavered from mine as I spoke. The room was silent except for the soft cry of the wind outside, and I could feel electricity crackling in the air.

  He looked at me in question, like he was seeing something he hadn’t before and was trying to figure out what it meant. “That’s the sign of a great artist,” he said after a few long seconds.

  “Thanks,” I said, looking down at the book between us. “You can have one if you want.” I moved my hand across the paper, grazing his in the process. The small bit of contact sent a rush of heat up my arm. I paused, pulling my hand back towards myself a moment later.

  “I probably shouldn’t take your homework,” he said pulling his hand to his side as well. “Anyway, we should start going over French since the test is coming up in three weeks. From what I saw in class today, we’ve got a lot to cover.”

  “Right,” I said, trying to ignore the heat lingering on my hand from where it had touched his seconds before. “Although like I warned you earlier, I’m pretty hopeless.”

  He got up from the beanbag that we shared and moved to the one next to me, pulling his French textbook out of his bag. “And like I said earlier, I doubt that’s true.”

  I didn’t refute his comment, but the chance of my doing decently on the upcoming test was as likely as winning the lottery. However, since he seemed determined to help, I decided to at least put forth the effort.

  * * *

  Focusing proved impossible, and my French didn’t seem to improve in the slightest, despite Drew’s words of encouragement. While I tried concentrating, all I could think about was the upcoming double date, and whether or not I should mention it.

  “So,” I said, looking up from my book. “Chelsea told me you were coming to the movies with us tomorrow night?” The statement came out as a question, and I cringed at what an airhead I must have sounded like.

  “That’s the plan,” he said. “Unless you don’t want me to come?”

  “No,” I stammered. “I do. I mean, Chelsea does.”

  “I would hope so.” He laughed. “Since she asked me.”

  I couldn’t think of a response, and not wanting Jeremy to walk in during the study session, I looked at my watch to see how much longer there was until soccer practice got out. We had fifteen minutes, but I wanted to play it safe. Jeremy wouldn’t react well if he walked in the library and discovered Drew and I sitting close together on beanbags in the back room speaking in French to each other.

  “Jeremy will be here soon,” I said, disappointed that the study session had to end.

  “I would stay until he got here, but we wouldn’t want to give him the wrong idea.” Drew winked, leaning back in the beanbag.

  I stared at him, shocked at the implication. “He wouldn’t care,” I lied.

  “Sure.” He smirked, not sounding convinced.

  “Are you jealous?” I asked, amused by his reaction.

  “Of Jeremy?” Drew laughed. “Never.”

  His response surprised me, and I had no idea how to reply. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” I said, closing my French book and packing it into my bag.

  “Goodbye, Elizabeth,” he said, grabbing his bag and swinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I said bye and watched him walk out of the room, finally able to think clearly once he was gone. Drew isn’t interested in me, I reminded myself. He’s interested in Chelsea.

  Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was wrong. It would have made sense for him to say something to get me to talk about Chelsea if he was interested in her, but he didn’t mention her at all.

  Looked like I would just have to wait and see how he acted with her on the double date tomorrow night.

  * * *

  I hope you enjoyed your sneak peak of Remembrance! If you haven’t read the book yet, go to www.michellemadow.com to get the entire book for FREE! The sign up might say that it’s only for Elementals, but it’s secretly for Remembrance, too. Elementals will arrive first, and you’ll get Remembrance a few days later. But here’s an insider trick—if you want Remembrance immediately, sign up and then reply to your Welcome Email to let me know that you want to get started reading Remembrance now. I’ll send it to you ASAP 

  Anything you read after this point will be spoilers for the rest of the series, so I recommend reading The Transcend Time Saga first before continuing

  If you’ve already read The Transcend Time Saga, turn the page and enjoy the bonus material!

  BONUS SCENE FOR REMEMBRANCE

  Drew telling Chelsea he won’t be attending the Halloween dance

  I wrote this scene as a homework assignment for a creative writing class. After finishing the scene, I realized I enjoyed writing from Chelsea’s point of view, and came up with the idea for Vengeance!

  Standing in my walk-in closet, I pulled on my costume for the Halloween Dance, my heart fluttering as I thought about Drew sitting on my bed waiting for me to model it for him. Even though we’d been dating for almost a month, it was still hard to believe that Drew Carmichael was my boyfriend. From the first time I saw him when he walked into AP European History in the beginning of the school year, I wanted us to be together, and everything worked out as I planned. Drew Carmichael and Chelsea Givens … it sounded perfect, and we were perfect together.

  A lot of that had been thanks to Lizzie. I was lucky to have her as a friend. If she hadn’t let Drew and me come to the movies with her and Jeremy a few weeks ago, then maybe none of this would have happened. That night set everything into motion. It was the night Drew kissed me for the first time. The memory made my cheeks heat up, and I took a few breaths to relax so I didn’t look flushed when I went back into my room.

  I zipped up the back of the short red dress and twirled around, feeling the light fabric dance around my legs. The dress dipped low in the front, and the fishnet stockings perfected the look of a dancer at the Moulin Rouge. It looked hot on me, and I knew it. Drew wasn’t going to know what to do with himself when he saw me in it. When every piece of the outfit was in place, I smoothed down the skirt, brushed my fingers through my hair, and opened the closet door to walk back into my room.

  Drew sat in the same place on my bed that he was in when I left to change. My eyes met his dark ones, and a thrill of joy traveled all the way up my spine. He was so different from the other boys in Pembrooke, New Hampshire—much more worldly and sophisticated. He was better looking than most of the guys around here, too, and he didn’t even have to try. Right now he looked like he should be modeling for a high-end clothing catalogue instead of sitting on my bed, waiting to see my outfit for the Halloween Dance. I also noticed that he looked a little sad—probably because he missed home. He thought about his past a lot. Transitioning from living in New York to living in New Hampshire had to be tough, but I was glad he moved here. He was the best thing that had ever happened to me.

  I wanted to jump on the bed and wrap my arms around him, just to prove he was really here, but there would be time for that later. For now I spun around to model the outfit, fluffing up the skirt with my hands and watching him to see his reaction. His lips curved into an appreciative smirk, but at the same time, there was something off in his eyes. Something … distant.

  He’d been that way a lot for the past few days. I tried a fe
w times to find out why he seemed upset, but he refused to admit anything was wrong, so I eventually stopped asking. Hopefully as time passed and he got used to living in New Hampshire he would relax and not be as moody. For now, as long as I acted happy and carefree, I hoped my attitude would wear off on him.

  I fluffed the skirt one last time and smiled at him in a way I hoped was seductive. “You like?” I asked, pulling the bodice down a little lower so I showed even more cleavage than before. If that didn’t take the distant look out of his eyes, I had no idea what would.

  “No one’s gonna be able to take their eyes off you all night,” he said.

  “I only care that one person’s looking at me though.” I took a few dramatic steps forward to stand right in front of him and wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer to me. “I’m the luckiest girl in the school to be going to the dance with you.”

  “About that …” He lowered his eyes, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “I’m not going to be able to go.”

  “What?” I leaned back in surprise, confused about where this was coming from. “What are you talking about?”

  He lifted his eyes back up to meet mine, but there was a coldness in them that wasn’t there before, making goosebumps rise over my skin. “My grandparents from London are flying into New York that weekend, and my dad wants me to go down to see them,” he said, his voice devoid of emotion, like he didn’t care at all.

  “But you can’t miss the dance.” I pouted, even though I could feel that any attempts to change his mind would be futile. Drew wasn’t the type of person I could force to do something he didn’t want to. That was something I liked about him, because I hated when guys let me walk all over them, but it could get downright irritating at times. “It’s the second biggest dance of the year. You have to go with me.”