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[iinitialfern]

A Completely Necessary Intro . . .

I have no idea wtf I'm doing. This is my first ever Tumblr account so it's going to take me a while to get into the swing of things. I'm currently obsessed with a DCOM from 2008 and since I couldn't find a one that hit the marks I wanted, I decided to try out the writing thing.

So, um. Yeah. I like listening to YouTube videos while I work. I like being dumb. I like dumb movies and humor.

At the end of the day, I'm just tryna mind my own business.

[iinitialfern]

The Bookworm and The Biker

16: That Explains It

The setup was moving faster than expected. Charlie and Jeanette tackled the electrical work some fifteen feet away, according to Zeke at least. All Lexi knew was that they were far enough away so they didn’t need to talk to each other, but close enough to hear Charlie’s flustered responses to Jeanette’s over-bearing questions. Lexi grinned.

How cute.

At first, when Zeke was focused on getting the generator positioned, Lexi was strangely impressed when staring at Charlie’s instructions in his notebook. She’d never seen anyone use one this way. Every page was folded in half and he wrote past the red margins so there wasn’t a single wasted space. Even Hermione would be impressed.

Lexi bit her cheek, resisting the urge to outwardly gush.

I’ve got to start writing in my notebooks like this.

Catching her stunned expression, Zeke muttered something about how even in writing Charlie talked way too much, but she was able to use the instructions to answer any questions he had; Charlie had designed it as a bio-generator. In between the comfortable silences, she couldn’t help but flip through to admire Charlie’s work, like she imagined Artemis did with the fairy manuscript.

Eventually, she tied her hair up again to let her neck breathe and rolled up her sleeves. Roughly an hour later, her throat felt dry. Luckily Zeke finished and sat up, twisting his . . . well, she had no idea what the hell it was, but she heard it clicking as he twisted it in his hands.

“You thirsty?” he asked.

“Yeah.” She shut Charlie’s worn notebook and hopped up, following Zeke up to the porch.

She took the opportunity to really take in the details of the backyard now that they were done with their part and—

How the hell is the backyard even prettier than the front?

Here, she saw that the Thompsons really had a green thumb. Aunt Maddy’s house had the same luscious grass and plants that lined her yard, but here the plants felt real. Less manicured. There was wire separating produce or herbs on the far side, but what really caught her attention were the sunflowers. There was a whole section of them that were just, scary tall and grouped together so tightly, she doubted she would’ve been able to walk through.

“Whoa . . .”

Secret Garden or what, am I right?

From the corner of her eye, she saw Zeke glance over.

“He barely takes care of them and they’re almost as tall as me now, it’s kind of insane.”

Lexi frowned at the back of Zeke’s head with a skeptical smile. “No way.”

“I’m serious. I don’t know how the fuck he learned to do it. He just threw a handful of seeds over there and—” He gestured over to them, going through the sliding door. “I wouldn’t have believed it but I saw it myself.”

“That’s batshit!” Lexi said. “That doesn’t just . . . happen.”

“Batshit. Yeah.” Zeke scoffed with an amused smile.

The inside of the house was as homey as the outside.

The walls were painted in this soft yellow color and it made Lexi feel a comforting warmth, unlike the overwhelming warmth she felt outside. There was a counter that came out the wall to their immediate right, serving as a separation between the actual kitchen and the dining room. There were two doors: one a closet and the other seemingly leading to the second entrance outside. Miscellaneous fixtures hung on the walls — a key hook, wooden coat rack, antique-looking wooden shelves crowded with pictures and monster truck trophies.

Rounding the counter’s corner, Lexi saw how the pots and pans were hanging below the — holy shit — the highest-placed cabinets she’d ever seen. If she wanted anything, she’d have to get on her tippy toes to barely reach the bottom shelf. Then her eyes drifted to Zeke and his towering height.

Oh, duh.

There was a soft clinking from glass bottles as he opened the fridge.

“Ginger ale or water?” he asked.

“What the hell’s a ginger ale?”

He frowned, like he was trying to explain it to himself. “Like a . . . Sprite I guess? I don’t know, my old man just picked up the habit back in the day. He says it’s more refreshing than water when it’s hot, but I don’t get it. Ginger tastes like shit to me.”

She’d never had ginger before, but his scowl was enough to convince her to go with water. After handing her a bottle, he circled around the island to ask what the others wanted.

Lexi leaned against the sink, tucking the notebook under her arm to open the water bottle.

“Young lady, can I—“ Vince’s unexpected voice made her jolt right when she twisted the cap open. "You’re okay, you’re okay! Didn’t mean to scare you.” He held up his hands reassuringly, stepping out from the hallway beside the fridge.

Flustered, Lexi giggled lightly. “Oh no, it’s okay! I got a little too focused there.”

Vince looked at her with curious amusement and leaned against the half wall railing that seemed to cover the stairs for the basement. He waved a hand flippantly. “I wanted to ask, just ‘cause I’ve been wondering . . . are you the reader in the group?"

Lexi froze — shit, she even stopped breathing. He’d only know that because of Zeke, who just finished doing his report on Anthem.

Her throat went dry. "Yep."

“Uh-huh,” he said slowly, nodding like he was putting together clues in a mystery novel, then gave her a knowing grin. "That explains it."

Lexi, having read many interactions that went exactly like this, knew what he meant. She couldn’t stop the question from tumbling out because what the hell else was she supposed to say? “What do you mean?”

Please don’t say anything weird. She and Zeke were in a good place right now. It had become easier to ignore the bookish side of her brain that kept romanticizing him.

"Why he didn’t rush through that book this time."

Fuck. Her heart pounded in dread and joy. Her fingers adjusted on the bottle, like it suddenly needed to be held differently. She wished her hair wasn’t tied up right now, she desperately wanted to turn and hide her face.

"I was just tired. No big deal." Zeke’s dismissive tone pulled her focus. He came back around to the fridge, coming between herself and his dad without looking at either of them. She recognized the habit instantly and it unsettled her. He looked pissed—

No. She was reading into it too much, making a situation a bigger deal than it was and all that. Lexi tried her best to scoff it away. “That’s probably on me. I hyped it up too much when we first talked about it. It was em-barrassing.”

Zeke held out a ginger ale towards her. When Lexi looked up, his gaze surprised her. Compared to his tight jaw and guarded expression, his eyes flickered with a gentleness that completely contradicted the anger she thought she saw. An apology? Embarrassment about his dad? She wasn’t sure — everything was flipping upside down.

“For Jeanette.”

Get your shit together.

“Okay.”

Zeke pulled out another drink — undoubtably for Charlie — and he finally looked at Vince. “We’re pretty much done out there, dad. You can take the truck to the shop, if you want to check in on them. I’m sure Buddy would like to have you there to fuck around.”

“Won’t you need it to drop your—?”

“We should be done by the time you come back.” Zeke’s tone was controlled, but Lexi caught the faintest edge, like he was restraining the urge to speed conversation along.

“Alright, alright. I’ll give you kids the space to hang out for a minute,” he said playfully. “You got the keys?”

“Here.” Zeke fished them out of his pocket and tossed them to him. “Bring back a pizza or something on the way back, will you?”

“Bo-ssy,” Vince said, unphased. “I’ll grab three, just in case.”

“Hm.” She heard Zeke’s unamused grunt.

“Young lady?” Vince squatted down through the space in between the counter and the floating cabinets above it. He pointed at Zeke. “Keep him in line for me ‘til I come back, yeah?”

Lexi smiled awkwardly. “I’ll try.”

And with that, he turned to leave. Lexi stood staring where he was just at, unsure how to even begin processing what had just happened.

“That explains it.”

Her grip tightened on the glass bottle, pushing back against her brain’s urge to take Vince’s words and run with them.

“Don’t listen to him,” Zeke said. “He always does that shit.”

What? Be as perceptive as the bird Jeanette gave him? Why’d he have to bring up—?

There’s nothing to bring up.

“It’s fine.” Lexi looked to the ground and pushed herself off the counter. “I’ll just . . . go give this to Jeanette.”

Back to Masterlist

Next part . . . (x)

[iinitialfern]

The Bookworm and The Biker

15.2: Just Let It Happen

Vince waiting by the garage turned out to be more helpful than Lexi expected. Zeke would’ve never been able to get the thing off without help. Charlie was too short and Zeke was adamant that she and Jeanette take it easy. She couldn’t blame him; if a stranger fainted twice within 30 minutes of meeting them, she’d be extra cautious around them as well.

Still, she felt bad about letting Vince, Zeke and Charlie handle the generator’s transfer while she did nothing so she decided to at least help get Zeke’s metal brace on the ground. It looked simple, bare — easy even for her to pick up.

As the guys were handling the generator on the ground, pushing it out the back of the garage, Lexi hopped up on the bed of the truck and tied up her hair.

“Oh wait for me, Chickadee!” Jeanette came up after her. “What are you grabbing?”

Oh, right. There’s a tool bag.

“The frame.”

“Okay, I can get the bag!”

They nodded in agreement. Lexi reached down to grab the frame and—

Holy fuck.

It was heavier than it looked. She barely got it half-an-inch off the bed before dropping it. She wouldn’t be able to pick it up, that was for sure. 

Maybe if I drag it—? No. It would scrape against the bed and mess up their truck. By awkwardly lifting at the legs, she’d be able to move it though it would give her a killer backache tomorrow. Jeanette was nearly off the truck; Lexi could tell by the sound of her footsteps.

Damn, okay. Lexi grabbed the legs of the frame, breathed out sharply, and lifted.

“Jeanette, put that shit down,” Zeke said, coming around the truck.

“But, Kestrel I’m—“

“I don’t want to hear it. That weighs more than you do and you’ll fall over if you get near the edge.”

Lexi barely registered Jeanette’s protest or the thump of the tool bag dropping on the bed because—

Fuck me, this thing is gonna crush my toes.

A gloved hand reached across and grasped the metal. Zeke, standing along the outside of the truck, was already taking the weight out of her hands.

“I got it,” he said.

Lexi blinked, barely taking a breath before he took it outright, lifting it over the side of the truck. Even though she caught his strained expression, her mouth dropped open; she didn’t know how the hell he was able to lift that thing over the side.

He dropped it and propped himself against the truck’s side with a folded arm, taking his working gloves off. It was clear he needed to take a moment after moving that sneaky little shit. “You gotta be careful with carbon steel. It’s a lot heavier than it looks.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” Lexi crawled over and looked down the side, her ponytail swinging next to her face.

From the back side of the garage, she heard Vince call out, “Everything good in there?”

“Yeah!” Zeke replied. “Just got the brace off!”

“We could hear you drop it from all the way back there,” Charlie said. He came through the garage’s back door with Vince in tow.

“Kestrel, do you think I could lift it from here?” Jeanette asked on the ground at the edge of the tailgate.

“Jeanette, if I see your hand get near that bag, I’m locking you in the truck. I got a lot of good tools in there.” He pushed himself off the side and walked away. Lexi smiled at his joking threat and looked at Jeanette, who was coming around to where she was leaning over.

“Don’t worry, you little firecracker.” Vince passed her to go around back and heave the bag off. “The windows are old school. Just crank it down so we can hand you the spare. Come on, sweetheart.”

He waved Lexi over and offered a hand to help her down. She felt like she was in one of those old-timey movies being helped down like a lady and another blush started creeping in her cheeks.

Vince swung the tailgate up. He paced just past the garage door, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket.

Lexi tried not to gape. He can fit that in there?! 

Vince lit one up and when he spoke to Zeke, the words were mumbled from working around it in between his lips.

“Okay, kiddo.” He shoved the stuff back in his magic pocket. “You got it handled from here?”

Lexi reached up to take out the ponytail, noticing brown and black smudges. Just as she was about to wipe her palms on her jeans Vince threw a hand out, quickly grunting his disapproval. She froze while he pulled the cigarette out.

“Just wait. If you do that, the stain’s not coming out.”

“Oh.” Lexi took his word for it and awkwardly gestured toward him. “I’m sorry for—”

“Mm.” He tilted his head dismissively as he took a drag, then waved his cigarette hand lazily. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, the smoke coming out with each word. “I’ve eaten burgers with dirtier hands.”

So cool. Fighting a dorky smile off, she was just about to ask if she could use their sink when Zeke came up beside her and held out a . . . napkin? She frowned, confused.

“It’s a tuff wipe for that,” he gestured at her hands with it. “Soap’s not gonna cut it.”

“Thanks.”

Zeke turned to Vince, who sounded like he was in the middle of an even longer drag. “Yeah, we got it covered, dad. Thanks for helping us move the damn thing.”

Lexi absently wiped her hands, then paused when her eyes flicked over to Vince. He was watching her almost analytically, cigarette between his fingers and lips. Zeke had the same look when they first started talking about Anthem and just like him, it was almost like Vince was assessing her. But she couldn’t be sure. He could also be staring off into space.

Vince pulled the cigarette out and inhaled for another fraction of a second. The cloud of smoke nearly covered his face as he exhaled. His head shifted to Zeke and he grinned — the easygoing man Lexi had seen up to that point was back.

“No problem. Holler if you need anything. I’ll be out front checking in on the shop.”

With that, he turned away and headed toward the house.

“Checking in?” Lexi asked Zeke.

“Yeah, we own — well, he owns — a monster truck mod shop,” Zeke said.

Awesome. Seriously, the more she learned about Vince, the cooler he became.

“He usually takes the truck in, so he’s just hanging around. If anything, he’ll probably swing by when we’re done to see how they’re doing.”

He turned to look at their other two friends, the moment of silence gearing them up to start the installation. Then, Zeke looked at Jeanette. “Wanna help Charlie?”

Back to Masterlist

Next part . . .

[iinitialfern]

The Bookworm and The Biker

15.1: Just Let It Happen

The red truck added to the weirdness of the day.

After loading it up and getting in, Lexi felt like they were going on a field trip. The fact they were technically skipping school added to that feeling, bringing a rush of excitement. Seeing Zeke behind a steering wheel felt strange because Lexi only ever saw him leave school on his motorcycle. The faint smell of cigarettes, steel-toed boots, and tools gave off “warm dad” vibes — all things she was familiar with because of Uncle Luke’s garage.

She was struck with the thought that she didn’t even remember what her dad smelled like before brushing it off to engage with everyone. Jeanette was the heart of everyone today in Virgil’s absence and she kept everyone laughing doing her usual thing. Amidst their piling onto Charlie, Lexi registered how good it felt to just be in the moment with these people, and hoped that soon they’d get Virgil back to complete the group.

They eventually reached parts of the valley Lexi felt comfortable around.

When she and her mom moved in with her aunt, Lexi had bristled not only at how big her house was, but how clean the neighborhood was — complete with wider roads, greener plants, and pristine sidewalks. Lexi never thought that seeing cracked pavement with shrubbery growing in between would make her feel at ease.

The houses in the Thompsons’ neighborhood had unique one-floor houses with huge lawns, the kind Lexi pictured for family barbecues. Zeke pulled into a terracotta-bricked house and since it was her first time visiting a friend’s place, Lexi took in every detail.

Trees were evenly spaced around the yard, but what stood out was the sleeping willow out front. Lexi wished she could see how magical that thing was during summer nights.

There were two entrances and they both had iron bars wrapping around the stairs leading up to the doors. The more Zeke pulled in, the more she realized the house was lifting on an inclined hill, revealing windows that were barely surfacing in the driveway’s cement. Sneaky.

Overall it was cozy, full of heart, and Lexi smiled softly, trying to imagine growing up in this place.

She noticed Zeke’s bike parked in between the small space provided by a little shed and the garage, which was open. The tools inside were organized, just like Uncle Luke’s and Lexi wondered if all men were wired to be that way. Just as the truck passed the garage’s threshold, Lexi caught a glimpse of a man’s shoulder through the open back door. It was his dad; Zeke had warned them he’d be home while they installed the generator.

When the engine shut off, the man turned to lean against the door frame, exhaling a cloud smoke that billowed around his face.

“Uh, you do know smoking isn't good for you right?” Charlie said. “Statistically, that’s shaving years off your life—”

Zeke cut him off with a sharp glare, but instead of snarling or snapping like he’d do with Albert Felinestein, he let Charlie squirm under the heat of controlled anger, enough to make even Lexi nervous. “We’re not at your house, Charlie. If you don’t like it, stay in the truck.”

After a beat of awkward silence, Jeanette chimed in and smoothed the tension over. “I think it gives him personality.”

Lexi turned her attention to the man. The first thing that jumped at her was his age. All the adults in her life still had their natural hair, maybe a few grays, but nothing like this. His hair and goatee were all white save for his eyebrows. He had more wrinkles than her adults, but the deepest ones were by his eyes and his mouth. Although he looked old, the way he acted — down to the way he smoked — gave him this sort of youthful energy. Lexi agreed with Jeanette.

He had personality.

Everyone got out of the truck.

“Hey, kiddo. Just out here taking a smoke break,” his dad said in a warm and friendly tone. “Don’t mind me.”

“Right.” Clearly, Zeke didn’t believe him. “Guess you won’t mind helping us unload then?”

“No, no.” He took one heavy drag of his cigarette and turned to flick it into a bucket even though there was still some white on it. That’s how cigarettes worked, right? Once it reached down to the yellow, it was done? “Is it sharp?”

“No, but gloves would still help.” Zeke went around the back of the truck.

“Hi, Mr. Thompson!” Jeanette waved once the man had turned from one of the cabinets near the door.

“Please, everyone calls me Vince,” he smiled, piling the working gloves he scavenged on one hand and reaching out to shake her hand. Jeanette being Jeanette, shook it and leaned in ever so slightly, enough for Lexi to know what she was doing.

Vince looked bewildered, but he didn’t say anything.

After a moment, she brightened. “You remind me more of a jackdaw than a kestrel! That’s so cool!”

“A what now?” Vince’s eyebrows rose.

Lexi grinned, but tried to suppress it. It was funny seeing how even with adults, Jeanette was doing the Liberty.

“It’s your new codename, old man,” Zeke said as he came up next to Lexi. She couldn’t fight the urge to steal a look at him and she smiled when he glanced at her at the same time, smirking playfully. “Just let it happen.”

Vince looked like he couldn’t believe he was caught up in this naming ceremony. He turned to Jeanette with a smile that said he was game. “Alright, I wanna hear this. Why that?”

And that was it. That smile and the willingness to hear Jeanette — well, how could she not like him?

“Well, jackdaws are sharp like kestrels, but they’re wayyy more perceptive.”

“It’s a bird,” Lexi clarified, stepping forward to shake his hand next. The closer she got, the more baffled she became; Zeke looked almost nothing like him. They weren’t even the same height—

That’s when she saw it.

Holy shit. They were father and son. Zeke had the same nose, thick eyebrows and sharp blue eyes. A blush crept up as their hands met.

“She loves birds and gives everyone a name when she first meets them. Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise. . .?”

“Lexi.” She pointed to herself then next to her. “That’s Jeanette. And um, that’s our friend Charlie,” she added once she realized she’d accidentally taken over introductions.

“You the one responsible for the generator?” Vince asked him.

From the far side of the truck, Charlie looked hilariously uncomfortable. “Yeah.”

“Don’t worry, kid. I don’t bite,” Vince grinned as he raised a pair of gloves. “You want a pair?”

Back to Masterlist

Next part . . .

[iinitialfern]

The Bookworm and The Biker

14.2: Time to Get Personal

Since he printed the paper before lunch ended, Zeke only needed to focus on the generator with Charlie after school. All they needed to do was tie up a few loose ends and were finished, but when they did—

Thank God.

He wasn’t one for religion, but this circumstance was an exception. In more than one way, finishing the generator was a weight off his shoulders.

Just before everyone split off, they made a plan for the next day. Zeke promised to show up with his old man’s truck and some dollies to move the generator, which shouldn’t be a problem since Fridays were the optional overtime days at the shop. His dad could show up a little later than usual. It would also be perfect timing since tomorrow was the pep rally. That meant a shorter day and a little privacy because it would be held in the basketball court instead of the football field. Traffic wouldn’t be a bitch either — everything was lining up.

The only thing that worried Zeke was the clash between his friends and his dad. On the bike ride home, he couldn’t even predict how that would go, unsure how outrageous his dad would get since this would be the first time Zeke would take anyone over. Unfortunately, Virgil — the most charismatic of the group who shines in group settings — would be stuck doing the pep rally shit, so Zeke started thinking about everyone’s strengths and weaknesses to have better control of the situation tomorrow.

Over the past couple of weeks, Zeke’s one-on-one time with Charlie made something painfully clear: he had less patience for him than anyone else. He cared for the little twerp and saw him as a younger brother, but the genius he was born with did not come with basic social instinct. His age certainly had a lot to do with it. He was the only 15 year old senior at their school and that added to the disconnect Zeke saw between Charlie and the other students. He was a whirlwind of ideas and facts, and he was a good mechanical problem solver — something Zeke wouldn’t ever deny about him. The problem was he had a nasty over-explaining habit that turned into bulldozing if Zeke didn’t check him when he started. At least he wasn’t as bad as Chester.

Jeanette was the closest to Virgil in terms of charisma, but her eccentricity made her a little off-putting to the wrong people — case in point: him. When the girls joined the fan club and he got a chance to interact with her more, she grew on him. He saw her like a younger sister, not only because she was Charlie’s age, but because she had this child-like enthusiasm that was endearing. Not that he’d ever admit that. She was fun and since she made her wardrobe by hand — something Zeke respected because she did it despite her wealth — she understood the time and dedication it took to make shit. The downside was that she occasionally needed a distraction to burn off her excessive energy like a toddler.

Of the three, Lexi was the most insightful and the most “normal,” by societal standards anyway. She could hold a decent conversation. Not like Jeanette, who often let her passions for birds and crafts overtake her, or Charlie, who turned every technical insight into a running commentary.

None of that.

Lexi moved through conversations like a ratchet, always inching things forward without needing to reset. From his experience and what she told him, she had real insight on people, reading every interaction in real time like her books. The only downside was her need for connection. It took a while for the ball to get rolling, but once it did, she could easily handle it from there.

He wasn’t worried about the connection. His dad was well liked by everyone at the shop. He had this way of being charismatic — like Virgil and Jeanette — while being the man in charge. Zeke couldn’t understand it. There was no doubt his old man would get along with all of his friends — maybe a little too well if he was being honest.

Zeke could see that he’d get along particularly well with Jeanette and Lexi. Charlie? He wasn’t sure.

And he didn’t want to deal with it, either.

Zeke parked his bike in the garage. The only way tomorrow wouldn’t be a disaster was if Jeanette stuck close to Charlie. It was no secret that she liked him and because of that, she was the only person who made him hesitate, second-guess himself, and trip over his words. The funny thing was that out of everyone in the group, she was also his cat’s favorite person. Keeping her close to Charlie was strategic. For himself.

If they had to split up into teams, Jeanette wouldn’t be opposed to work with her magpie if Zeke told her to. It would give him a break from their bouncing energy to mentally recover with Lexi who’d be able to tell he’d need silence for a while after dealing with three children, if he counted his dad.

He let out a sigh of relief, satisfied with the plan. Jeanette would be his charismatic Virgil — one who could subdue Charlie even better — and Lexi was going to be his grounding Virgil.

Zeke spent the rest of the afternoon bracing for his old man to get home from work. Not because asking for the truck would be a problem. But because learning his friends were coming over would encourage an enthusiastic, Jeanette-style, line of questioning.

When he heard the truck pull up, he took a deep breath.

Let’s get this over with.

Zeke came up the stairs and leaned on the half wall banister at the top as his dad entered through the dining room. He looked tired, but he smiled to hide it when he saw a glimpse at Zeke leaning over the half wall.

“Hey, kiddo!” he said, hanging his keys. “How was your day?”

Seeing that exhaustion on his face and the smears from metal-working reminded Zeke why he needed the truck. This wasn’t a social call; it was relief for a bill.

“Dad, I need to borrow the truck tomorrow.”

“What for?”

“I have a friend who’s made a bio-generator for his house and he helped me make one for us.”

His dad’s frown deepened. “What?”

“It sounds crazy, I know. But it works. They don’t have to pay an electric bill.” Zeke could feel his irritation building up, but he got a hold of it. Even if his old man was tired, he’d playfully dodge Zeke’s attempts to be serious and it would piss Zeke off even more. He needed to maintain control to have a productive conversation right now. Zeke realized that mentioning his friends gave him enough of an edge to convince him. “My friends are helping me bring it over tomorrow. So, you know. You can meet them.”

His dad paused, seemingly processing everything and he started to chuckle. Even though he was trying to mask it, Zeke could hear the exhaustion and it pulled at his compassion. “Alright. With your friends, huh? About time.”

Zeke shrugged. “Yeah, well. It just kinda happened.”

“Doesn’t matter how it happened. What matters is you’re not doing it alone.” His old man walked over to set his lunch box on the counter and clapped Zeke on the shoulder. “I’ll make sure the truck’s ready. I’m looking forward to meeting your crew.”

Zeke let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His dad was just onboard. No interrogation about the generator or his friends. No dismissal or one-sided arguments. “Thanks, dad.”

He gave him a half-smile, half-smirk. “Don’t thank me yet. You’re still on school duty for now. But I’m proud of you, kid. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

Back to Masterlist

Next part . . .

[iinitialfern]

The Bookworm and The Biker

14.1: Time to Get Personal

Zeke needed to get that paper typed and printed today, preferably before school closed so he wouldn’t have to go to the public library and pay to print it there. Besides, he’d rather spend that time after school working on the generator — especially now that he and Charlie were this close to finishing it.

Taking a deep breath, he mentally prepared himself to start the heinous process. By the time he took his seat and the first bell rang, he begrudgingly started. Before he put pen to paper, he needed to compact the information and find a thesis. He always hated this part, usually not giving a flying fuck about the topics, but this time a handful of memories flashed in his mind.

The handshake with Charlie.

Jeanette naming him Kestrel.

The first energy drink Virgil got him.

Lexi frowning at South Carolina.

All those instances came together to form something he wanted to preserve and maintain — with that, Zeke knew what he wanted to write about. He glanced at the clock, mildly surprised only five minutes had passed.

All right, then. At least he could move onto sorting out his thoughts. He remembered the conversations with Lexi and the passages he skimmed, trying to find a way to connect the topics like Tetris.

Individualism. Collectivism. Independence. Co-dependence. Freedom. Control. Give-and-take. Loneliness. Transactions. Connections.

On and on, he mentally searched for a way to make the topics come together and make sense. At the shop, when it came to reading new blueprints, Zeke always knew what the finished part was supposed to look like. But it wasn’t until he finished flipping through every drawing — analyzing dimensions, tolerances, weld symbols — that he’d understand how it all came together.

This was the same thing.

With everything categorizing in his thoughts, he knew he was on the brink of seeing how they’d work together, and halfway through the class, he saw it — the shape of an argument. Zeke quickly scribbled out the outline while it was fresh in his mind.

By the time he had to go to health, he was ready to look for quotes in the book. He’d brushed up on it Tuesday evening before he went to bed, paying closer attention to it than he had over the weekend, so he was familiar with the most relevant sections in it. As always, he got there before Virgil. He got out his outline and a new sheet of paper to abbreviate the relevant quotes in. Cracking the book open, he carefully started scanning the relevant pages.

He vaguely saw Virgil approaching, steps slowing the closer he got, and Zeke felt his amused stare boring into him.

“I can read,” he muttered, same as when he finished reviewing the time machine blueprints. “You can stop staring now.”

Virgil chuckled. “To be fair, this is the first time I’ve seen you digging for quotes, dude. Even when we shared that math class back in freshman year.”

Zeke turned back to the pages. “Gotta make sure it’s airtight. Dillard said we’re using the same book for our mid-terms.”

From the corner of his eye, Zeke saw Virgil lean curiously to get a glimpse of the outline sheet.

“Lexi helped you come up with all that?”

A majority of the shit there was based off their talks, so in a way—

“Yeah,” Zeke shrugged.

Virgil whistled. “Told you she was a gold mine.”

Zeke shot him a playful sideways look. “Dude, it’s starting to sound like she did all the work in your project.”

“Uh, no—that’s not—we actually did equal parts—”

The bell cut him off. Zeke shook his head, his grin taking over. It felt good to get under Virgil’s skin for once. The lecture was a continuation of emotional health and all that junk. Zeke wasn’t missing out on much. He spent the entire period scanning the book for quotes.

When they broke for lunch, Zeke packed up his stuff and told Virgil to go to the cafeteria without him. He was going to hate himself for not eating, but fuck it. This needed to get done like yesterday.

Instead of awkwardly sitting at one of the computers lined against the walls, he decided to see if he could check out a laptop, remembering there were carts full of them that were loaned out to classes occasionally. He wanted to make sure he could sit at Lexi’s table. Today would mark the end of their little talks, and it only felt right to finish the paper next to her.

Zeke stopped by the checkout desk and asked the librarian if he could check out a laptop for the remaining lunchtime. Surprisingly, she said yes.

“Beat her here today?” she asked, scanning the barcode on the Dell.

Zeke hated observational questions like that.

Oh really? I didn’t notice.

He gave her a thin smile. “Yeah.”

At the table, Zeke pulled out his outline, booted up the laptop, and opened a new Word document. He’d just saved the file on his flash drive before he felt her presence. Like Virgil, her footsteps became measured. Attentive.

“Hey,” Lexi said. “This is . . . new.”

Zeke glanced at her. “Had to get a head start. I need to finish this today.”

“Fair.” She took her usual seat and pulled out her physics. “Good luck, I guess.”

Zeke grinned; she sounded painfully awkward, but her sincerity came through.

“Thanks.”

They worked in comfortable silence. The only sound that came from the table was the clacking from the keyboard and her calculator inputs. The paper was solid—argument tight, quotes tying into the themes, structure clean—it was ready.

Then he checked the word count.

Two pages.

He needed three. He sighed, running his hand through his hair. If he wanted to hit the page requirement, he had to go deeper.

Time to get personal.

Zeke hesitated for a second, then let his fingers fly over the keyboard.

‘My version of selfhood is a lot messier than the author’s. It doesn’t come in a single moment. It comes from trial and error, from working on things that slowly start to matter. From being frustrated, challenged, and even wrong sometimes.’

Yeah. Wrong.

He came to terms with a lot of issues he was ignoring, mainly his growing attachment to the gang. Although it was true, admitting it now — even privately — made his chest tighten uncomfortably. Zeke paused over the keys, trying to ignore how weird it felt to be so attuned to this fucking paper, and braced himself; it was about to get more honest.

‘A lot of what I know about myself now came from being in the middle of things. Making stuff with my annoying friend Charlie. Trading drinks with my funny friend Virgil. Trying to understand my quirky friend Jeanette.’

He glanced at Lexi beside him. She was typing another equation in the calculator, absorbed in her worksheet. Despite the uneasiness typing out his conclusion, it was working with the overall draft, and he recognized that it was all possible because of her. He looked back to the screen.

‘Talking with my smart friend Lexi, who added to my world view more than anyone else, and was the one who remembered that our little group was given names. Like Liberty 5-3000 or “Gaea.”’

As he continued typing the conclusion, he was aware he was just throwing words on the page, but it wasn’t until he finished skimming through the thing that he realized how . . . well everything worked together. His eyebrows raised.

Well, goddamn.

The writing itself wasn’t polished. It wasn’t academic. But fuck it — it was his. His shoulders relaxed when he finally saved the document. Hearing the laptop snap closed added to his relief and it called Lexi’s attention. She glanced up from her worksheet.

“Everything look good?”

Zeke looked at her once more, thinking how he wrote possibly the best paper he’d ever get to write because of their little talks.

But he wouldn’t ever tell her that.

He gave her a small grin. “Yeah. It’s over.”

Back to Masterlist

Next part . . .

[iinitialfern]

The Bookworm and The Biker

13.2: Words and Numbers

Like the day before, Lexi flitted through the day like Jeanette would. As she walked in the library, she waved to the librarian, Mrs. Walters, for the first time and felt happy when she got a polite smile in return.

At her table, Lexi pulled out her physics and tried to do a little reviewing before Zeke showed up. As usual, Lexi got tangled up in the equations even with her textbook open in front of her. A ball of irritation started to form.

Why was it so much easier to read the passages as opposed to the damn equations? She knew the answer to the problems was right under her nose, she just found it hard to register what she was looking at. She spent a frustrating amount of time trying to make sense of the formulas when she heard Zeke’s footsteps.

“Hey,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. She didn’t like feeling so useless with her physics and hoped that, like the first time he helped her, she’d be able to understand this a second time.

“Hey.”

She heard the chair perpendicular to her drag across the carpet and she frowned up in confusion. Instead of taking his usual spot across from her, he sat at the head of the table next to her.

“Ready to knock this out?” he asked.

Lexi pushed the novelty of the seating arrangement out of her mind and nodded. She explained how, like with the single kinematic equations, she was having a hard time understanding the diagrams and how to calculate the functions derived from them. She showed him the notes she took in class yesterday, when they started the new section, and she could tell by the way his brows furrowed that they were garbage.

“That’s how he wrote those examples on the board,” Lexi defended herself. “I stayed and made sure I copied what he wrote exactly.”

That part was true. She was dreading coming to the library yesterday so she took her time copying the board. What she didn’t tell him was that she couldn’t focus on her teacher’s instruction to save her life. In a way, she shared the blame for the lack of knowledge absorption.

“Who’s your physics teacher?”

“Mr. Rose.”

“Does he not know what the fuck he’s doing?”

Lexi felt validated in hearing that. When she wasn’t fighting her exhaustion off, it was hard to follow along with what that man said. “He’s new.”

Zeke pulled a loose sheet out from his bag and started breaking down the parts of the function. As soon as he explained each part she’d need to know, she started to feel excited.

It was making sense.

After learning how to solve the equations on the calculator faster — the trick was in adding an extra set of parenthesis — they started on her worksheet. She tucked her hair behind her ears to avoid having it curtain around her face; she needed to focus entirely on the work in front of her.

“You can’t solve one without solving the other — they’re locked together,” he reminded her in the meantime. “They’re both independent objects, but you can’t understand either without accounting for both. Think of it as healthy co-dependence. Newton-approved.”

Lexi rubbed her eyes with a half-laugh. “Damn, I hate how that makes sense.”

Zeke smirked in amusement. “I know. You’re welcome.”

“Oh jeez, thank you,” she grinned wryly, shaking her head and leaning over her sheet again.

Time to get serious.

Zeke guided her through the first problem, then acted as an observer for the rest. There were only ten problems and by the time she reached the fifth, Lexi groaned, leaning back against the chair. The rest of the sheet was fucking diagrams.

“I hate doing this shit,” she complained.

Zeke rested on his forearms as he studied the problem, then took the sheet to properly analyze it.

“Is it hard to understand this because your teacher sucks at it?” he asked.

“It makes it harder, I can say that,” Lexi shrugged. “But I know it’s my fault too. I just can’t focus on the equations or diagrams. For me, there’s a big difference between reading numbers and reading words.”

“How?”

Lexi paused as she searched her thoughts for an answer. “I dunno, it’s like there’s no substance with numbers. Words are easier for me to latch onto because they have more meaning.”

Numbers were cold, rigid. There was no depth for her to sink her teeth into. It was like how she struggled to find a connection when talking to others outside their little group. Conversations that felt like a string of variables she couldn’t. . .

Lexi heard the sharp breath before she could think, the realization snapping together like puzzle pieces. Zeke tilted his head curiously.

“What?”

Although Lexi met his gaze, she wasn’t really looking. Her mind flashed through the many conversations she’s had, both good and bad. The good ones were rare and they all had one common factor. “It’s just like when I try to talk to people. If there’s nothing there, like if it’s small talk, I can’t do it. They’re like numbers.”

Zeke’s eyebrows shot up. “That . . . makes sense.” He placed her worksheet down in front of him and crossed his arms, leaning over it. He also seemed to be remembering past interactions. “For me, conversations are a lot like transactions. Numbers are the same. There’s only one way you get the right answer. And it’s pretty straightforward when you know what you’re looking for.”

Lexi thought back to the first day of dance and that girl who shunned her, the one who reached for her friend when Lexi was about to say something to her. Since then, Lexi had learned her name was Stacy. Jeanette managed to befriend her and, by a fraction of an extension, Lexi too. She mimicked Zeke, crossing her arms and looking vacantly at the tabletop, thinking how she still couldn’t have a seamless conversation with Stacy if Jeanette wasn’t there.

“You’re right. Everything is a transaction.” Strangely, the thought didn’t bother her as much. Ultimately, she had Jeanette. She had Virgil. Somehow, she had Zeke. Maybe one day, she’d get Charlie and Al, too. Lexi grinned. “I guess I just suck at making them.”

“I wouldn’t say that. The way you talk is just . . . different.”

Lexi frowned over at him, intrigued by the observation. She wasn’t sure whether it was a good different or a bad different. In her mind, she considered it bad given how difficult it was to talk to people.

“What do you mean?”

He breathed out heavily and searched for a way to say whatever it was he wanted to say. Fair. She wouldn’t know how to start describing herself either—

“You’re honest,” he finally said.

That doesn’t sound right. She frowned. She often kept certain things to herself — lied through omission. She did it to him when they started this study session! The confusion to his statement was replaced by guilt as she decided not to correct him—

“You don’t say stuff just to say it and it digs under all the bullshit.”

. . . Huh. That wasn’t entirely false, but those instances were rare. To be able to get to the good stuff, she needed to feel something — that spark that served as her compass. She wasn’t good at surface level shit. So . . . did that make her honest to some extent?

“I think it’s hard to find other people like that here because they don’t have to worry about anything outside their little worlds. High school’s only good for privileged assholes.”

His bluntness gave her a full-blown smile and she found herself agreeing with what he said. But the way he stated it was so matter-of-fact, so casually sharp, it was like he could say the same thing to Principal Tolkan himself. He just didn’t give a fuck. She reflexively looked down at the table to hide it, but she was sure he’d already seen it.

“For the rest of us, it’s a waste of time,” Zeke continued. “That’s why I hate it and can’t wait to be done with it this year.”

That made one of them.

Part of the reason Lexi promised herself she’d change this year is because, over the summer, she became aware that the safety bubble high school provided would soon pop. She spent years sinking further into that bottomless well the worse her parents’ situation became. But that terrifying moment, when she admitted she had no idea what she’d do next, felt like someone had grabbed her by the collar and barely hauled her head above water.

She didn’t want to talk about that today, though.

“You have a plan for after?” she asked instead, hoping she could live in someone else’s certainty for a moment.

Zeke’s grin lit up with more enthusiasm than she’d seen from him since they met. “Underwater welding.”

“That’s a thing?”

“I know, right? I didn’t even know it was a thing until I started looking into trade schools.”

“There’s one for underwater welding around here?” she asked

“No. The school I found is in South Carolina.”

Lexi was hit with a pang of sadness, much like yesterday when he first admitted he didn’t have to stick around anymore, and her brows furrowed before she could think. “South Carolina?”

Zeke nodded, but the gleam in his eyes faltered when he glanced at her. The pencil froze in his fingers. Lexi blinked rapidly and turned her attention to her crappy notes instead.

The downside of opening up to people — especially these people, her fan club friends — was that they had less than a year before they’d go their separate ways. Zeke bringing up a move to South Carolina was a reminder that made her heart feel heavy.

“Won’t be for a while, gotta graduate first,” Zeke said. He slid the sheet in front of her and tapped on the first diagram with his pencil. “And we won’t be able to do that if we get a shit grade on that paper or your physics worksheet.”

The weight in her chest lifted enough for her to let out a half-laugh, grateful for the redirection.

“I think I’m going to need your help for the rest of the semester, because I can’t understand his notes at all,” she joked. But if she was being honest, the only reason she said that was because deep down, she wanted to cling on while she could.

Zeke chuckled. “Rose’s notes are absolute shit anyway.”

There was that bluntness again. Lexi didn’t bother hiding her smile that time.

Back to Masterlist

Next part . . .

[iinitialfern]

The Bookworm and The Biker

13.1: Words and Numbers

Something had changed.

At first, she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye after accepting she was a willing prisoner. And it was . . . hard skirting around it, especially after he said that giving control meant letting someone else control your life.

But the more they talked, the easier it felt to separate her conflicting emotions. Then they laughed and she felt it plant a seed of friendship between them like it had with Jeanette and Virgil. Laughing with people was deeply intimate to her and doing that — paired with the depth of everything else they talked about — changed the way she saw him.

She left that library thinking of him as a friend, not just the fan club acquaintance that made her get all confused.

She could only hope he felt the same way.

Adding another person to her friend roster gave her a kind of happiness she hadn’t experienced before. For the rest of the day after lunch, she paid extra close attention to the teacher, raised her hand to participate in discussions — didn’t feel an ounce of exhaustion.

The day seemed to be going fast. Before she knew it, the lunch bell rang and she found herself looking forward to going to the basement. Her brain wasn’t dead set on mixing Zeke up with her fictional crushes anymore. Jeanette was there already, waving excitedly from the motorcycle seat. “Chickadee!”

Lexi returned the gesture, smiling partly because she was happy to see her, partly because of the Liberty of it all. Jeanette pulled out a pair of wired earphones and her iPhone, which Lexi chose to register as a regular phone — something that didn’t cost an arm and a leg.

“Ready to look for songs?” Jeanette asked excitedly.

Today in dance, the teacher told them it was go-time for the Winter Assembly. They had roughly two months before they needed to start stage and costume prep.

Lexi smiled. “Let’s do it.”

She heard Zeke’s footsteps, their familiar drag echoing off the cement corridor, and the metal door creaked open.

“Hi Kestrel!” Jeanette waved.

“Jeanette,” Zeke acknowledged her simply, his voice laced with amusement. Lexi couldn’t fight the urge to glance at him as he came up beside her. He gave her the same knowing smile at the use of the nickname. “Want to go over the two-bodies before Charlie gets here?”

Now that she knew that the generator was supposed to be finished by the end of the week, Lexi didn’t want to take away time from him and Charlie to work on it. Especially since they wouldn’t have the extra hands to help. She and Jeanette needed to hop on the search for a song and Virgil was going to be tied up with the AV Club and the pep rally all week.

“It can wait until tomorrow. The worksheet isn’t due until next week.”

They heard Charlie coming and looked at the entrance.

“So, no jumping today?” Lexi asked.

“Not that I know of,” Zeke said. The jumps depended on whether someone had seen any incident they wanted to help with. Last week was heavy; they jumped back in time every day. Yesterday, nothing seemed to happen. Jeanette hadn’t mentioned anything for today, so unless Charlie came down with bad news, he and Zeke could hop on the generator immediately.

Charlie came in and closed the door behind them, freezing when he saw everyone staring at him.

“Did something happen?” he asked, eyes darting at all their faces.

“Not with us. You got something?” Zeke asked.

“Nope.” Charlie relaxed, grabbing his backpack straps like a grade school boy. His short height only added to the image. “Ready to work on the generator?”

Even though Virgil wasn’t there, the lack of a mission made the basement feel lighter. Or maybe it was just that Lexi felt like she belonged somewhere since she moved. Between sorting through song choices with Jeanette and watching the boys tinker with the machine, there was an ease that hadn’t been there before. When they said goodbye and went their separate ways, Lexi realized that even though tomorrow was a B-Day — meaning no dance and no Jeanette — she was looking forward to it.

Back to Masterlist

Next list . . .

[iinitialfern]

The Bookworm and The Biker

12.2: Co-Dependence

In the library, Lexi was once again concentrated on physics with laser-focused attention — even more so than usual, Zeke would say. He didn’t go to his seat across from her, he leaned down behind her first to see what her class had moved onto. From the corner of his vision, he saw her jolt as her head whipped up.

“Two-body kinematics?”

“Yeah . . . “

Something in her tone suggested an uneasiness that seemed to persist since yesterday when she avoided looking at him the entire time in the basement. He wasn’t sure why, he didn’t do anything to her. Zeke decided to call her on it, circling around across from her and dropping his backpack by the table leg.

“Weren’t expecting me today?”

“I didn’t think there was anything left to talk about. We already hit the major themes of the book,” she shrugged. “It’s pretty cut and dry from there.”

“We barely touched the surface,” Zeke said, deciding to shift tactics since she still wasn’t looking at him. “I could help you with the two-bodies before lunch ends or in the basement before we keep working on the generator. But I do want to talk to you first, I gotta type up my paper on Thursday.”

Zeke wasn’t sure what part got her attention, but it worked. Lexi met his gaze with renewed determination, crossing her arms and straightening against the table. Her deep rooted passion changed even her posture.

“Okay. What do you want to talk about?”

“Co-dependence.” Zeke reached into his bag to pull out that sheet of paper from his binder. “Today in health class, we talked about it and Fulmer said that it isn’t always a bad thing.”

He was expecting an objecting frown, a scowl — anything to show her disagreement with the statement — but her brows furrowed thoughtfully.

Interesting.

Zeke laid out the single sheet with his rough notes on the table. “I wanted to talk about it in the book. Especially with the lady.”

“Liberty?”

“Yeah, I want to hear your thoughts on it cuz to me it doesn’t make sense she’d go from being told what to do in their fucked up society to being told what to do with the guy. She doesn’t have a say where they go, where they end up — she doesn’t even choose her name in the end.”

“I think it’s different.”

“How?”

Lexi brought her hands together and started scratching at a fingertip. “She picked who she wanted to be with. Sometimes, people choose the things that make them happy, even if . . . it means surrendering a little control.”

Zeke frowned. “Isn’t that just co-dependence? Giving up control basically means letting someone else dictate your life.”

Lexi scratched at her finger faster. “I don’t think it’s that simple. I used to, but . . . not anymore. There are different circumstances that make people choose what they do. For me, for things outside of family—” she looked up from her hands “—I always thought connection was just something people forced on you, almost like it was an expectation. And I was always like: why do we need it? Then one day I realized I . . . wanted to be around people for some fucking reason.”

That made Zeke freeze. Partly because that was the first time he heard her swear, but also because it took him back to the cafeteria — the deal he struck with the guys, the dread at realizing their time together was almost over.

“I couldn’t tell you when it started, though. I just did.” She looked like she was debating something before she shrugged. “Part of the reason I think I felt like that was because of Virgil.”

Something snapped uncomfortably in Zeke’s chest, like the wire in a MIG machine. He crossed his arms.

“Huh.”

“We became good friends when we shared that class last year, and then when our schedules changed, I didn’t see him anymore and I . . . realized I missed him.” Lexi’s gaze shifted from the past to the present as she looked at him.

His irritability was stacking up. He knew Lexi and Virgil were friends the day the girls had gone to sign up for the fan club. Hearing the way she talked about Virgil though . . . it was hitting a nerve. And that’s when he realized.

He was jealous.

And fuck, he hated it.

Lexi was the first person he felt this . . . weird connection with. Hearing her yesterday felt like she was voicing perspectives buried deep in his subconscious, alluding to his past like she was there with him step-by-step. But while he was finding his footing in this newfound territory, he forgot she already shared that with Virgil.

Virgil, who just had this way of being in people’s lives like he belonged there. Virgil, who had a story with everyone around him — Lexi, Charlie, Jeanette, shit even Chester and Eugene. Zeke could build things and fix what was broken. He knew how to make himself useful and get what he wanted in exchange. That was how he kept people around, how he made people stop doing something if he wanted, but Virgil? He didn’t need to earn that space; he naturally occupied it.

“He made me feel like, I dunno, like I was alive,” she said.

Zeke recalled the first time Virgil waved at him or the first time he got an energy drink from him. He wondered what it would be like to just be like that, to belong and matter like Virgil did.

“Actually this semester, part of the reason why I chose to stay in dance with Jeanette was because, in a way, she made me feel like he used to, you know? I didn’t feel . . . alone . . . with her anymore.”

Her eyes dropped, but Zeke could’ve sworn he saw them start to glisten. He didn’t say anything, the weight of her words pulling at his emotions like magnets. He was coming to terms that what he’d been calling a deal — a generator for time machine — wasn’t a transaction anymore.

It was him, trying not to feel alone either.

“That’s how you two met? Through dance?” he asked, trying to cut through the heaviness that appeared at the table all of a sudden.

For the first time since they started talking, he saw the hint of a faint smile. “Yeah. I was actually going to drop the class, but then she came in and — well. You know how she can be.”

The memory of her getting all close and personal to his face flashed through his mind. “Yyup.”

“What’s funny is I remember thinking that people who’d just cling onto their friends were needy. And weak. But now . . . I think there’s a huge difference between independence and just being alone. And I mean like, when you’re around other people, you know? So, when it comes to Liberty, I think she did what she did because she wanted to stay with the main guy.”

Given everything they talked about, everything he didn’t want to think about—

“She would’ve felt more alone staying in the city than just going with him,” Zeke absently muttered.

“Yeah.” It sounded like Lexi meant that more for herself than him.

“I get it. I actually—” Zeke stopped, unsure if he wanted to talk to her about this. It would be his first ‘confession’ in a way, and she wasn’t even that close to him. She already had that with Virgil. But on some level, he knew she was the only one who’d understand where he’d be coming from.

. . . It was related to the themes of the book, wasn’t it?

Fuck it.

“That bio-generator Charlie and I have been working on . . . should be finished by the end of the week.”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t have to stick around anymore after it’s done.”

There it was. The admission hit him harder now than the thought originally did in the cafeteria. He ran a hand through his hair, not wanting to acknowledge how, come next week, he’d be in the equivalent of that book’s city again. Doing what he had to do, drifting aimlessly, not having his . . . friends.

Boy, would his old man have a field day if he found out Zeke considered the group his friends.

“What?” The way Lexi said it was sharp and immediate, almost like she wanted him to stick around. Like she could miss him as much as Virgil. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but it still brought a little flicker of something unexpected. “Why—?“

“It was the original deal we struck. But the thing is . . .” He almost didn’t say it until the truth pressed against his ribs like it had claws. “I don’t want to leave.”

He looked her square in the eyes because of that cursed desire to connect with someone who’d know exactly what he felt and he shrugged. “I don’t know when in the fuck I became this way, but I did. And it sucks. I think I’d miss being around everyone, you know?”

A rueful grin broke across Lexi’s face. “Yep.”

It spoke volumes about how she hated the irony of it too and Zeke found himself smirking in response.

“Goddammit, I understand the character in the book and the health teacher,” he said with a shake of his head. “At least we weren’t given a name like she was.”

“Yeah, I guess—“ Lexi stopped abruptly, freezing in place. Zeke’s eyebrows raised, silently asking what she just remembered. “We were.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

Her eyes were wide, like she couldn’t believe it herself. “Jeanette.”

It felt like his brain literally yanked on a chain in the old noggin, setting off a light bulb to what she was talking about.

Kestrel. Chickadee.

“No,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands. “No, no, no. You’re shitting me.”

“We’ve actually been Liberty’d,” Lexi giggled.

Zeke looked lazily at her, unable to fight the full-blown smile. “That’s probably the worst thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Joy began dancing in her eyes and Lexi let out a laugh, trying to stifle it with her hands.Zeke scoffed out his own, not caring to hide anything anymore because of how ridiculously right it felt. He rubbed his eyes with a hand. “For fuck’s sake.”

Back to Masterlist

Next Part . . .

[iinitialfern]

The Bookworm and The Biker

12.1: Co-Dependence

“Okay, everyone. To wrap up Unit One, we’re going to talk about healthy relationship dynamics: independence versus co-dependence.”

Zeke frowned. The universe was fucking with him, right? Wasn’t it a little coincidental that they’d happen to start talking about this now? It was going to be annoying, that’s for sure, but maybe they’d talk about something he could use in his English paper. He ripped out a loose-leaf sheet from his worn binder and started spinning his pencil in his fingers. Virgil jabbed him with his elbow and glanced at his hand, clearly surprised Zeke could do the trick. He shrugged his reply.

It’s whatever.

“To start off, can anyone tell me what it means to be independent?” Fulmer asked. The answers by the class were generic, but the only one his brain insisted on sticking to was Lexi’s.

When you can’t rely on anyone.

Fulmer moved on. “So what do we think co-dependency is?”

The opposite — depending on someone, Zeke thought. Again, others shouted their answers until Fulmer graced them with the intended definition.

“Emotional or psychological dependence on your significant other, often to an excessive degree. Here’s where it gets tricky, though: co-dependence isn’t always a bad thing.”

Zeke’s eyebrows knit together again. That sure as hell didn’t sound right, even Lexi wouldn’t agree with that. She made that clear when she talked about the main guy of the book, Equality — a name Zeke knew included numbers, but ones he couldn’t recall even if his life depended on it — and listed all the instances Equality made the choice to gain independence.

Yeah, she definitely wouldn’t agree with ‘healthy co-dependency’ or whatever the fuck. Her favorite book was basically a PSA for why it couldn’t work — the human spirit was programmed to be selfish above everything else.

Oh, that could work. Talking about this in the paper would fit the theme, wouldn’t it? As Fulmer continued the lecture — something about attachment styles? — Zeke wrote out his thoughts on the sheet of paper. His ears perked up.

“So, here’s today’s challenge: how do you maintain independence while fostering deep connections? I know to some, that sounds contradictory, but I assure you it’s not. Humans are social creatures; we need each other like every other species in the animal kingdom.”

Zeke mentally snorted, but from what he could remember in the book, their society was tied at the hip to each other. Equality escaped and learned about the ‘I’ of it all and everything, but his lady friend went with him too. She didn’t even get to pick her new name, though.

Huh. Zeke tapped his pencil against his desk. How could a writer who’s championing independence not have one of the ex-unified citizens pick their own name? In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t a huge deal, but the more he thought about it, the more it sat wrong. Surely, Lexi would’ve liked to pick her own name if she had the choice. He made a mental note to ask her about it during lunch today, curious to find out what she’d say. Equality’s relationships with Liberty and the others in his group — it could end up being a good point in his paper.

Things at the table were going about as well as usual. Chester had decided not to sit with them, having gone longer periods of time in between catching up with them at the cafeteria.

“Mm, Zeke!” Charlie pointed his plastic spoon at him. “I ran the numbers last night and I’m fairly confident we’ll be able to finish the generator by the end of this week!”

Zeke let out a relieved sigh, the weight on his shoulders noticeably lighter. “Great.”

“By Friday, you think?” Virgil’s eyes lit up.

“We’re not going to the pep rally, Virg,” Zeke said flatly.

“Come on! You know it’ll be prime time for something to happen.” Virgil glanced at Eugene. “By something I mean an Incident 2.0.”

Eugene acknowledged Virgil with an awkward nod, but as usual remained quiet. To this day, he didn’t like contributing to the conversation and everyone had stopped trying to draw him out of his shell. All their conversations happened around him — apart from the random, no-pressure comments from Virgil. If it weren’t for those, Zeke would forget Eugene was even there.

“It’s a good thing you’ll be there,” Zeke said with an overly-sweet smile. “Besides, if we finish the generator on Friday, we’ll be busy taking the damn thing to my place and hooking it up.”

Charlie nodded. “Indeed. And once that’s done, our agreement will have reached its conclusion.”

Zeke paused for a beat, remembering how all this started. “. . . Right.”

That was the whole deal, after all. After the generator was finished, technically he didn’t need to stay with Virgil and Charlie anymore. He could just go on his way . . . like he always planned. A pit was beginning to form — not enough to name, but enough to notice — and he didn’t want to think about it. He gripped his lunch tray, sliding his chair back.

“Library again?” Virgil smirked playfully.

“Yeah,” Zeke said, a flicker of irritation overtaking the pit. “My paper is due on Friday.”

“Four days in a row? You’re practically a regular at this point.”

“I hate writing papers. Lexi’s helping me out.”

Virgil raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m not judging. We worked on a project together for World Civ, I know she’s a gold mine for ideas.”

Zeke frowned. He hadn’t known that and learning it fed into that earlier sense of irritation. “You did?”

Virgil nodded. “Oh, yeah. It’s how we became friends. Except, you know, we were partners. At this point, it sounds like she should start charging you office hours, dude.”

Zeke didn’t want to dignify that with a response so he stood up, taking his tray with him. “I’m leaving.”

“Tell our study buddy I said hi!”

“Tell her yourself.” Zeke flipped him off over his shoulder without waiting for a response.

Virgil just laughed.

Back to Masterlist

Next part . . .

[iinitialfern]

The Bookworm and The Biker

11: Independence

It was Monday, on a B-Day heavy week, which meant no dance, no Jeanette to ease her into the day. It would’ve helped. The closer the hour drew to lunch time the more her heart fluttered.

She was going to see Zeke in the library for lunch.

They were supposed to talk about the book today. In the basement on Friday, she promised they could talk about it come Monday. Trying to go over the story when he hadn’t read it at that point would take too long, and she wanted to hit the public library before getting home. It gave him the weekend to read it so he’d have a basic grasp of the story.

Unfortunately, the thought loomed at the back of her thoughts. It wasn’t made easier when she tried to read The Hunger Games either. The description of Gale brought Zeke to mind and she had to push the thought away. Never once did she think there would be downsides to reading and she took comfort that he wasn’t in the majority of the story.

She hadn’t wanted to read about Gale because she didn’t want to think about Zeke.

It just confused her.

Lexi glanced at the clock again. Only five minutes have passed? Why was time moving so slowly? She picked at her thumb. The universe was torturing her, keeping her chest tight with . . . well, she wasn’t sure. Anticipation maybe? That . . . he’d read it?

Yeah. Lexi started to relax, easing up on the skin around her pinkie nail. It was the first time she’d recommended a book, so she hoped he liked it. That book changed her life — it was everything to her. If he didn’t like it, she’d feel stupid for loving it as much as she did.

Lexi frowned at the thought.

She didn’t love that book because of its intellectualism; she fell in love with it because of what it made her feel. That book opened her perspective to the world around her, especially after moving to Summerton last year, and for that she’d defend it.

Finally, the lunch bell rang. She shuffled to the library because now, she didn’t want to find out if he liked it or not — actually, if he never came, she could just pretend he did. If he didn’t like it though, he still had time to choose something else didn’t he? Animal Farm was another option she spotted on the list.

The library’s cool air felt refreshing and the quiet helped her buzzing thoughts relax further. She inhaled slowly, feeling the calm that usually came with the environment. Her table was open, like always, and she decided to sit with her back to the entrance. That was the only way she’d be able to focus today.

Lexi pulled out her physics, trying to busy herself, and munched on her pretzel sticks. For fifteen minutes, the equations distracted her because they weren’t as complicated as last week. Zeke did a good job at explaining weeks worth of kinematics in the time they had during lunch on Friday. She tapped the mechanical pencil against the margin of her notebook, then she heard his footsteps and stopped. Lexi tried not to look up right away as he sat across from her.

“So, you’re getting the hang of the worksheet?” he asked. She met his eyes and immediately noticed how rested he looked. His blue eyes weren’t as dull — even the color of his clothes was lighter.

“Yeah.” She tried for an easy grin, like Virgil. “Even the textbook makes more sense, so thanks for that. Were you able to read the book?” she asked, leaning across the table with folded arms.

Zeke shrugged. “I read enough.”

Oh no.

A spark of irritation caught in her chest. What set it off was how he pulled the book out of his bag and casually tossed it on the table. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but she sure as hell knew that she didn’t want to ramble about the book with someone who didn’t care.

“. . . Enough,” she repeated, happy for once that her tone came out flat enough to carry her annoyance.

“I got the gist.”

“Right. So what’s the gist, then?”

“Guy lives in a messed-up dystopian world where individuality is illegal, he discovers electricity, gets exiled, and then—” Zeke waved a hand vaguely. “Freedom and all that.”

For fuck’s sake.

“Hm.”

“It was pretty cool.”

Wonderful. Her eyes dropped, biting back anger and disappointment. She officially needed to persuade him to get another book. She didn’t care if he used her words in his stupid paper — she just wouldn’t allow it for this one. Zeke crossed his arms and studied her face for a beat, and he must have seen the growing displeasure.

“Why do you like the book so much?” he asked suddenly.

“What?”

It was hard to read what he was thinking. Her eyes fell on the cover. She could just give him the basic answer. But it would’ve felt hollow and there was just so much she wanted to say. Was he sincere in wanting to know? No way in telling; he was looking at her like he was about to psychologically assess her.

. . . How often did she get the chance to talk about something she cared about?

Yeah, telling the whole truth — the genuine truth — felt right.

She took a breath.

“The first time I read it, I remember like my whole outlook on life just changed.” Ohhh, this was going to be easier if she looked at her hands instead. “Even before I moved from my old school, I used to try so much to fit in with my friends but it was hard. I’ve always felt . . . different.”

For reasons she didn’t feel comfortable sharing with him today, or ever probably.

“When I moved here, it was even harder. Then I randomly saw that book in here one day and I remembered reading about the guy. Learning that . . . when things are hard and you can’t rely on anyone, it’s important to be independent.”

After reading The Outsiders in her 8th grade English class, Lexi’s teacher allowed them to sit wherever they wanted. Lexi stayed in her usual seat because it was in the back and right in the center — the ideal seat for a movie.

At some point, one of the other girls tapped on her shoulder and asked her if she wasn’t going to move. It was only then that Lexi realized everyone had moved to one side of the room. Even then, she didn’t want to give up the best seat in the house. To this day, she could remember the girl’s confused expression. 

She had looked at Lexi like she was some kind of freak.

Ever since then, it was hard to ignore how people depended on each other. Sometimes it was excessive; people wouldn’t go to the bathroom if they didn’t go with their friend.

And she was just . . . there.

Wondering how they could be so reliant, so brainless. Wondering why she had less friends when she didn’t use them for useless shit.

“The story isn’t just about how he learns to say I. It’s about being independent when you don’t know what it is, or how it came to be there,” she said.

When she gathered the courage to look at him again, the analytical expression was gone, replaced by a thoughtfulness that . . . brought that spark she felt with Jeanette and Virgil.

Surprised, Lexi blinked.

This hadn’t happened before, at least not since she could remember. Maybe with her old friends she might’ve felt it after meeting them on the playground in grade school. At Summerton, the only two people she felt that spark with were Jeanette and Virgil — and it happened within a few seconds. She’d already interacted with Zeke for a few days and it was happening now? Like this?

“You think so?” he asked.

“Yeah." She forced the thought away. “He chooses himself every time he’s forced to — when he keeps the tunnel a secret, when he’s interrogated and lashed, when the elders threaten to destroy something he made not understanding how huge his discovery is. Then he abandons their society and goes off on his own not knowing shit.”

Lexi noticed the impassioned tone that had been rising, how she was running interference for the story. She shrugged, looking down at her hands again. “And, I dunno. I guess I wished I could see myself in the same way.”

Zeke was quiet for a moment, weighing what she said, then he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. It created a personal little space and Lexi knew the next thing he said was going to be deep, meant to stay between them.

“. . . I get that.” His voice was lower, quieter. “The only way I think someone can be independent is by handling their shit and maintaining control of a situation.”

Lexi grinned, another related theme of the story coming to mind. “And you have to handle your shit first before helping others.”

His eyes flashed. “Yeah.”

There was a moment of silence where they stared at each other, and Lexi could’ve sworn there was this . . . connection that felt different from that initial spark. She felt her rising pulse thumping in her throat and the second she registered it, she blinked rapidly. Her eyes dropped, exhaling sharply to get a handle on her breathing. Out the corner of her eye, she caught his hand running through his hair.

“The story’s cool, I’m uh, not sure I could go through it again though. The writing’s a little weird,” he said.

Lexi scoffed lightly — happy to be shifting her attention to the book again — and she grabbed it to flip towards the back. “Of course it is. Every word is intentional.”

She could write a whole paper about that alone — he didn’t even know the floodgates he opened up.

The remainder of the time was spent explaining the author’s syntax and how in certain copies of the book — not including his apparently — one could see how purposeful every word was. When the lunch bell rang, she jolted because of how lost she’d gotten babbling about her appreciation.

As she gathered her notes, he closed her physics textbook and pushed it toward her. The attentiveness of the gesture made her feel like he’d paid attention to her entire speech and in that moment, she didn’t care if he included any of her word vomit in his paper for Anthem. The trade-off of listening to her felt like payment enough.

It was hard to focus on school for the rest of the day because what they talked about kept resurfacing in her mind.

“When things are hard and you can’t rely on anyone, it’s important to be independent,” she’d said.

. . . Why did those words feel so foreign to her now? She believed them and lived by them, once upon a time. The message of the book provided comfort at her inability to blend into any environment and the increasing frustration that came with it. She’d become less afraid of doing things alone and, initially, it was liberating.

At some point along the way though, that independence became isolation and before she knew it, she’d found herself in a barren desert. It had happened so slowly, so quietly, she hadn’t realized until it was too late.

At the bottom of her heart, she knew it was . . . this sadness and guilt over what was happening between her parents behind closed doors. They’d been getting worse and worse until a line was crossed and Lexi was too afraid to see where they’d go next.

Those were the sentiments that drove her to give up control of her life, giving up a part of her independence and by extension, her freedom.

Zeke was right: part of independence was maintaining a sense of control. That’s why she felt confined, trapped — stuck in a cycle where she consistently put herself last. She had to because—

I don’t deserve any freedom.

The thought stabbed through the heart and Lexi’s vision began to blur as her eyes began to quickly water. Frantically blinking, she asked for the restroom pass and rushed out of class before anyone could see the tears fall. She kept her head down so no one would see them gliding down her cheeks, striding as quickly as she could to the nearest restroom. It wasn’t until she was hunched over a random sink that she allowed the breakdown to flow its course.

She adored the idea of freedom, but was resigned to sacrifice it. If the heaviness of her fate were tangible, it would’ve made the porcelain break.

What a hypocrite.

Back to Masterlist

Next part . . .

[iinitialfern]

The Bookworm and The Biker

10: Let's Get This Over With

Zeke would’ve gone without saying anything to Lexi.

He knew he could get a little dicey the lower his energy got, but talking to her hadn’t been as bad as he expected; it wasn’t bad at all. Shit, he even managed to walk out of the library about five minutes later with a book. Granted, the main reason he was sold on it was because she said it took her a day to read it, but the due date for that damn report was coming up soon, and he needed to work fast so it was a win.

In the basement, as Virgil was getting an update on the goings-ons from Charlie, Zeke pulled the book out of his bag. The corner of his nose twitched as he read the title, wishing he didn’t have to do the stupid assignment at all. Reading books was always a pain in the ass. Reading blueprints was more straightforward.

He wasn’t sure why he opened it, but by the second sentence, his eyebrows shot up.

It is a sin to think words no others think and to put them down upon a paper no others are to see.

Not being able to have your own thoughts? Fuck that. Zeke came up on a weird phrase immediately after and Lexi’s voice rang through his head.

“They can’t use words like I or Me.”

She wasn’t kidding; there wasn’t a single first-person word in the entire first chapter. Out the corner of his eye, he saw Virgil was approaching so he put the book in his bag.

“Zeke!” Virgil greeted with an easy smile.

“Virg,” Zeke gave him a lazy grin. “Nice to see you back around.”

“Eh, they didn’t need me for the prep today. Tomorrow’s the real grind, though. They’ll need me back then.”

They took a few minutes to catch up. Really, Virgil was fishing for an admission from Zeke that he missed him. With a roll of his eyes, he confessed that he did miss seeing him around a little.

“Thankfully, Jeanette’s been here, keeping Charlie on his toes,” he said.

“And Lexi?” Virgil asked.

“She—” When Zeke turned around, he realized she wasn’t there. “Jeanette!”

She raised her head from the motorcycle seat like a gopher. “Kestrel!”

“Lexi isn’t coming today?” Zeke asked her.

She shook her head. “She could be at tutoring for physics. She said she’d probably go today cuz there aren’t any sessions on Fridays.”

“Huh. Okay,” Zeke said, remembering how she mentioned its difficulty at the library. If it was anything like English tutoring, she wasn’t going to get much help.

He was suddenly struck with an idea.

Zeke was all right at physics. Lexi seemed to have a deep understanding of all the literary mumbo jumbo Dillard would be grading them for. Yeah, he was exhausted, but the last thing he wanted to do was read through a book and write a damn paper. In exchange for brushing up his talking points, he could help her with her homework. Not a bad deal considering that Dillard wanted to use their chosen books for the mid-term assignments, too.

By the time he jumped through the vortex with the guys, the decision had settled in his chest.

A/N: Another short one. Let's keep going!

The school library was quiet, the only sounds being the faint rustle of pages turning and the soft hum of fluorescent lights overhead.

Zeke walked through the tables, trying hard not to shuffle his feet. Annoyingly, the closer he got, the more frantic his nerves became, a stupid reflex he didn’t ask for. Doing this was bringing up a lot of second-guessing because he forgot one crucial detail.

Fuck. She loves the book.

Zeke needed to say thank you before saying anything about the bargain and goddammit, it was turning out to be harder than anything he’d ever done.

Lexi was in the same spot as yesterday, facing the entrance at one of the long tables in the back. Her notes were spread out, head bent in concentration. Zeke hesitated for a second, his grip on his backpack strap tightening.

Technically, he didn’t need to say thanks, did he? It was a favor for a favor, physics for English. But seeing her now, remembering the way her face lit up . . . he just knew it was the right thing to do. He took a deep breath and made his way toward her.

Let’s get this over with.

She saw him coming up on her table from her peripheral vision and she glanced up. Her eyes widened in surprise when she realized it was him.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey! Everything okay?"

“Yeah.” Zeke couldn’t blame her for the question; he never went to a library two days in a row. He took a seat across from her and his throat started to tighten up.

Just say it, dumbass.

“Thanks for helping me pick that book yesterday,” Zeke said, trying to get over how foreign the word felt coming out of his mouth. “I wanted to tell you I haven’t even made it past chapter one and I’m already hooked.”

Lexi brightened. "Really?! That’s good — I was worried I hyped it up too much!”

“Yeah, no. Uh, it made more sense to me after you told me about the ‘Me am’ — I mean, the whole I and Me.” He wanted to kick himself for that stumble, but he pressed on. “I would’ve been very confused if you hadn’t.”

“Me too. My teacher explained it when we read together in class.” She wrinkled her nose. “It helped in the beginning, but then it started to feel like we were getting our hands held.”

“Yeah, that can be annoying. I also hate it when teachers do the opposite and get too advanced. The tutoring center here’s no good either.” He was surprised how naturally the conversation flowed to a good opening and he nodded to her notes. “If you’re having a hard time with physics, I could help you?”

Lexi was taken aback for a moment. “. . . What?”

"For yesterday,” Zeke shrugged. “You really saved me a ton of time.”

“Um. . .” Her eyes darted to her hands and she started picking at her thumb.

For the finishing move. . .

“And I could really use your help figuring out how to write this thing,” he added. “Dillard says we’re going to use the same books for our actual mid-terms.”

When she looked up, he saw the resolve in her eyes. She didn’t mind the idea of the exchange. “Okay.”Score! Zeke checked the time on his phone and shrugged off his bag. “We got about 15 minutes, let’s see what we’re working with.”

Back to Masterlist

Next part . . .

[iinitialfern]

The Bookworm and The Biker

9: Anthem?

The days were blurring together.

As promised, Charlie was helping Zeke build the bio-generator for his house. But ever since they helped Chester, it seemed like a different kid ran into trouble every other day. With Virgil tied up in pep rally prep, most of the responsibility fell on him and Charlie.

Doing those added missions only took a minute in their timeline, but they sure as shit gave him a workout. One of their jumps ended with them accidentally destroying Principal Tolkan’s beloved school diorama and he hated them for it. Now, every time they set foot in the halls with their snowsuits, the school guards were waiting to catch them.

Gathering supplies for the bio-generator would have taken longer under these conditions, but luckily, they had Jeanette and Lexi willing to lend a hand. The process now was actually faster than when they prepped to build the time machine. Zeke just made sure the girls didn’t do any heavy lifting. The last thing he needed was another fainting scare. He wasn’t a medical expert and the whole thing with Lexi had shaken him more than he’d like to admit. The entire way to The Burger Hour that day, his mind raced through the worst-case scenarios.

What if she hit her head harder than he thought?

Should they take her to the ER instead?

He knew how dangerous it was to pass out with a possible head injury, but he hadn’t said anything to avoid worrying the others.

Remembering that uncertainty now, his jaw clenched and he let out a sharp exhale to relax. Thankfully, nothing happened. She looked more alive when she woke up than she had in the basement, but Zeke would be damned if he let himself be in that position again. If he’d made the wrong call that day, or if he made the wrong call now, it would weigh on his conscience.

On top of all that, his weld class started a bike rack project. That meant using more of his brain power for measurements early B-Day mornings. It made the week-and-a-half since Chester feel like months had passed by. Zeke didn’t think there was another time in his life when he was so busy.

It’s why, during English class, he couldn’t pull together the energy to listen to Dillard. He scribbled lazily on lined paper, wishing he’d gotten another energy drink on his way to this class, when he heard it.

“Don’t forget: your mid-term’s mid-term is due next week.”

People groaned throughout the class. Zeke would’ve been one of them, if he weren’t so tired. He hated how she said it, too — with a little grin, like it was a joke.

“Your solo literary analysis,” she continued. “You can only choose to do it from the list I handed out two weeks ago.”

She did do that, didn’t she? Where did he put that fucking paper? He stared at his backpack like it owed him the answer.

“There will be extra handouts here on your way out. Take one if you need it. Please, don’t miss this assignment okay? We’ll be using your chosen book for the actual mid-term too.”

Zeke ran a hand through his hair; this was just one more thing to add on the overwhelming to-do list. When the bell rang, he waited for the crowd to thin before walking up to grab the paper. None of the titles or authors were familiar.

He scowled and folded it enough to store in his front pocket, making a note to head to the library at lunch. He figured if he saw the books in person, one of them would magically jump out at him. Hopefully it would be a short one so he could get it done quicker.

A/N: Usually, I'd split it up here, but fuck it. The previous part was pretty short. Let's jump right in.

Lexi wished she could focus on her physics homework to get it done faster.

The shapes and equations all jumbled up to an incomprehensible mess. Her in-class notes were garbage. Her sparse notes hit a dead end with no point she could track back into the textbook. She glanced warily between her solo-notes, her in-class notes, and her physics book.

What the hell was she thinking?

She’d virtually screwed herself by pushing this off until now, like a real shithead. Sighing in frustration, she let her forehead drop on her notes with a dull thud. She could use a nap. It couldn’t hurt, right?

She knew herself, though.

If she allowed herself that luxury, there was a real risk that she’d sleep right past the lunch bell. She decided to stretch her legs instead; looking at the books would help get her mind off her frustrating physics class.

She didn’t bother to packing up her notes — who’d want to steal physics homework of all things? — and wandered into the YA section. Her fingers trailed along the spines, familiar titles and authors leaping out at her.

Books had been a part of her life since she started grade school, often sitting in the reading corner during free time. It had always been for leisure. But when things with her parents turned sour — and even worse with her mom — they were all she had as she slowly retreated into her shell.

Books became her everything, her way of escaping.

Lately, her reading tastes included a lot of paranormal romances — not something she’d admit out loud. She’d always had her book crushes growing up and all that, but it was always a side plot. Now there was an itch in her brain she couldn’t explain, this need to vicariously experience love and all that came with it. She chalked it up to teen hormones and at least took comfort in knowing she had an outlet to feed into it, explore the curiosity safely.

One of her favorite series was the House of Night. The fourth book was coming out next week — which Lexi planned to devour — and she was working through them again . . . at home.

She needed something more appropriate to read out in public, so she was searching the shelves for something that would fit the bill. There was nothing but sequels. Always annoying. She grudgingly turned her attention to the new-arrivals display, hoping there would be more hits than misses there, and saw a title she hadn’t seen before.

The Hunger Games.

Interesting. She turned it over in her hands and was reading the excerpt when she heard, “Lexi?”

Her heart skipped, much to her annoyance. What the hell was he doing there? The library was her safe space.

She composed herself and turned around. Zeke stood a few feet away, eyes heavy with exhaustion. Lexi recognized it instantly and started picking out other tell-tale signs of it: slumped shoulders, messier hair, a weaker grip on his backpack strap.

“Are you usually in here during lunch?” he asked.

Oh shit. Even his voice sounded more worn down than usual.

“Yeah. Physics is killing me right now. Taking a break.” She lifted the book in her hand and tried to divert. “What are you, uh, what are you in here for?”

“English.” He pulled out a piece of paper from his jeans. Unfolding it, he frowned at the typed list. “We have to choose a book for a quarter-term paper. Problem is, I’ve never heard of any of these before. I figured I’d see which one I could find first.”

“Can I see?” He handed her the list and it took a few seconds to skim through the options before she broke out in a smile. “Anthem? That’s so cool.”

“Anthem?”

Lexi remembered it fondly, her expression lighting up as she involuntarily started gushing about it. “Yeah, I read that book in 10th grade in like, a day. It was so addicting. It’s basically about this dystopian society where people live as like, a collective so they can’t use words like ‘I’ or ‘Me.’ They can only say ‘We,’ even when they’re by themselves. The story really focuses on one guy and how he rediscovers electricity and stuff — oh, it’s just so good.”

Usually, she wouldn’t ramble, but she adored that story and how it wove in its themes. Seeing the title brought her a spark of joy and it resulted in her unshared appreciation just tumbling out. When her class was reading it, each student was given a copy to take home so they could re-read the chapters for the analysis prompts. Lexi knew the story like the back of her hand.

“Rediscovers electricity?” Zeke’s eyebrows raised.

“It’s a lot deeper than it sounds.” Lexi’s eyes widened and she started waving a hand frantically. “Shit — don’t feel obligated to read it! The other books there are good too!”

“No, no. You really sold me on it.” He frowned down at the list again. “Who’s it by again?”

“Ayn Rand.” Lexi became acutely aware she had two options here: show him where it’s at or point him to the general direction. If it had been anyone else, she would’ve gone on the hunt with them without a second thought, but he wasn’t like everyone else. It already took an extraordinary amount of effort to see him the same way and it made her uncomfortable. Lexi pointed. “She’ll be right over in that area.”

“Awesome. Thanks.” He gave her a tired grin.

Her heart somersaulted. She was just . . . happy someone was going to read her favorite book. That’s all.

“I hope you like it,” she half-whispered.

“Thanks.”

Lexi nodded, pivoting back to her table, The Hunger Games tucked under her arm. Her physics notes were splayed out like battle plans. She slid into her seat and after some debate, opened the book.

Reading just one page couldn’t hurt.

She was acutely aware she was just looking for an excuse to get out of doing physics, but she pushed the thought of it and Zeke to the back of her mind. She was halfway through the second page when a shadow crossed the table.

Zeke held up the familiar slim paperback. Seeing it again brought feelings of warmth and ease. “Found it.”

Lexi smiled softly, her nostalgia overtaking her discomfort about him. “Nice.”

His eyes dropped to the mess of papers on the table, but he didn’t comment on her disastrous layout, thank goodness. Instead, he headed towards the check-out desk. “I’ll see you in the basement.”

“See ya later.”

When he left, she felt like the rain clouds cleared up and it was easier to breathe. Lexi allowed the residual emotions to pass through her and focused back on The Hunger Games.

She’d get to her physics eventually.

Back to Masterlist

Next part . . .

[iinitialfern]

The Bookworm and The Biker

8.2: If Anything Happened to You

**Warning - Emotional Manipulation**

Lexi wished she was the first one to be dropped off, not second. Jeanette’s house and neighborhood were overwhelming, more than Aunt Maddy’s. Even Virgil and Charlie were at a loss for words. How could people just have an insane amount of wealth like that? How could Jeanette be who she was coming from a background like that? Lexi never suspected anything. Jeanette made her own clothes, added the little artistic flairs to everything, but she literally did not need to.

She was still trying to sort her feelings out about that when she entered Aunt Maddy’s house.

“Where the hell were you?” her mom’s angry question pulled her out of her mental limbo.

“Uh . . .” Lexi glanced around, confused. After everything that happened today, she’d forgotten to check the time. But why was she acting like this was a repeat offense? Her eyebrows knit together. “I was with friends?”

“And why wouldn’t you think to call—?!” Her mom caught herself when Lexi took a step back, her frown deepening. She then closed her eyes, sighing heavily, and a frustrated desperation seemed to take root instead. “Why didn’t you call? Do you know how worried I was? You never do that, especially on a school night!”

That wasn’t a lie — it had only happened once before, months ago — so her mom’s reaction wasn’t entirely unreasonable. Usually, Lexi got home before she did. If the basement meetings ran too long, she excused herself to get to the house before her mom did. Today, she didn’t think about it with everything that had happened.

Lexi deflated, leaning against the door while she rubbed her forehead. She filtered through the day, trying to find a non-time-travel related moment to use as an explanation.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I—I passed out and my—”

“What?” Her mom’s voice was sharp, making Lexi wince. She’d been careless and it was going to cost her.

“I mean, I didn’t pass out pass out,” she tried backtracking. “I got a little lightheaded and my friends took me to get some food.”

“. . . So you’ve been eating? Taking your supplements?”

Not always.

It was hard letting go of self-destructive behaviors, but having a ray of hope every dance class gave her the will to try. Her appetite wasn’t as shot anymore. That was a plus wasn’t it? What she hadn’t been consistent on were the iron tablets she was prescribed. The muscle memory to do it wasn’t there since Lexi hadn’t ever needed to remember to take a pill before.

Lexi looked to the ground. “Yes.”

Her mom marched over; she was going to check the exhaustion in Lexi’s eyes. It wasn’t an impossible task because when she was beyond tired, Lexi could feel it on her face, the muscles drooping to match her energy levels. She blinked rapidly, trying to make herself look alert, but then her mom got in her face and forced her to meet her gaze.

Whatever expression Lexi tried for didn’t work. She saw the anger flare up and constrict her mom’s expression and this time, Lexi didn’t have time to brace for the scolding. She could only press against the front door, knowing exactly what her mom was about to go in on her for — and where she was going to pivot to.

“Do you want it to get worse — do you want to get blood transfusions? You think I can afford to take you if you need more than one?!”

Lexi felt like she’d been slapped and her breath caught. She knew her mom would get to their finances — the money always loomed over their heads — but not like that.

The question was calculated, purposeful, and it made guilt twist like a knife in her gut. Lexi knew the anger didn’t match the level of the crime, that her mom was using it as an excuse to explode and work her like a puppet.

But it didn’t matter. The guilt added onto the festering guilt and combined with shame, and it was enough to make Lexi mentally regress.

Her heart hammered against her chest, making it difficult to breathe. “N-no—”

“Then why are you doing this to me, Lexi?! Not taking care of yourself? Staying out late?”

“I didn’t—” Lexi choked on the words, her vision beginning to blur.

I didn’t mean to.

But because she couldn’t get the sentence out, it sounded like she was trying to lie to her mom’s face, and she exploded.

“But you did! If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be walking in here looking as pale as a ghost! Why are you trying to make things harder on me? To punish me?”

She was vicious and Lexi’s attempt to control anything — her voice, her trembling body, her tears —became impossible. She couldn’t get any words out because the attack wasn’t only quick; it hit all the sore spots in just the right way.

And it was Lexi’s fault for not hiding the initial crack in the armor better.

The questions and accusations rang in her head, brain scrambling to address each one — “I’m sorry,” “I’m not trying to punish you, I love you,” “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you,” — but she couldn’t even begin to form the sounds. 

In the following pause, all Lexi could hear was her sniffling, desperate attempts to control the crying, and it was sickening. Her stomach was shrinking in on itself, threatening to make her throw the burger up.

All she could do was shake her head, and she saw her mom’s posture soften. She pulled Lexi into a hug, but her arms remained by her side; she couldn’t bring herself to move them. It felt like she was leaning against a pillar.

“I’m sorry, Lu. It’s just — Everything I do, I do for you.”

The words were gentle, but they made her feel worse; they added onto the underlying expectation that Lexi owed her compliance.

“I need you to take better care of yourself. If anything happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.” Her mom pulled back, pressing her forehead onto hers. It at least gave Lexi room to breathe and she realized that. . .

That was true.

Her mom had broken irreparably when her dad left. Every night she spent crying added a link to the chain that kept Lexi shackled to her. And the thing was, they wouldn’t have happened if Lexi hadn’t gotten scared during her parents’ last argument, when she heard that God awful shatter as something was flung.

Lexi owed her, for more reasons than one.

“So I need you to come home as soon as you can, all right? To make sure you’re okay.”

She heaved a sob and nodded. “Okay.”

Back to Masterlist

Next part . . .

[iinitialfern]

The Bookworm and The Biker

8.1: If Anything Happened to You

When Lexi gained consciousness again, someone was humming along to music. Her head was leaning against a car window. A blanket was draped across her body; the sun toasted her like a piece of bread.

She stirred.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty!” Virgil turned the music down and turned to face her in the driver seat.

“Virgil? Where are we?”

“We’re in The Burger Hour’s parking lot. The others are getting food.”

It was then that Lexi noticed the outside. They were in a dingy, overcrowded parking lot all right. ‘The blanket’ was actually one of the snowsuit jackets. Her brows furrowed and she looked at Virgil questioningly.

“Zeke’s,” he said.

Shit. She sighed heavily, letting her head thud against the seat cushion behind her. The jacket started to feel too warm, but even though she thought about pushing it off, she didn’t.

“So all that happened?”

“Ehh, it kinda depends on what we’re talking about. What do you remember?”

She started with what she knew for certain: Club Rush registration. The Back to the Future Fan Club in Room 77 — ‘The Basement.’ The time machine. A mission to help Chester.

“So you remember what happened to Chester?” Virgil asked.

“Kind of?” Lexi didn’t know how to separate the fact from the updated reality of it all. When she was on the floor, she knew she was remembering two versions of events. The thing was . . . she couldn’t remember the exact events of what originally happened anymore. She was certain words were exchanged, but for the life of her she couldn’t recall what they were, or why they made her feel angry and humiliated.

“Jeanette said the same thing.”

Taking into account the lack of Jeanette in his car, Lexi said, “She’s doing better than me, I hope?”

“Oh yeah,” Virgil chuckled. “You know how she is.”

Lexi laughed softly. “Yeah.”

They reached the end of the small talk. An awkward silence started to fill the space in the car quickly, making it impossible to ignore. She knew that this was the moment to start explaining why she disappeared on him, but she struggled to find a place to start. Or how much she wanted to admit.

Couldn’t hurt to just cut straight to the point, could it?

She sighed. “Virg, I—”

“Lex, we were—” he started at the same time.

Their eyes met, shock apparent in both their eyes. Then that classic smirk of his broke across his face. It made Lexi’s heart lurch in its familiarity.

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot?”

Goddammit. Lexi smiled and looked down at her hands. It had been nearly a year and he was still the only person who made her crack like that. Now that she wasn’t looking at his amused blue-green eyes, she found the courage to say what she wanted to say.

“Virgil, I’m sorry.” She picked at the raw skin along one of her thumbs. “After the semester changed last year, I . . . kinda shut down. Things were changing for me and . . . I didn’t trust myself not to make things more complicated for the people I cared about.”

Lexi risked a glance, catching Virgil’s frown. “Complicated how?”

Lexi was about to tell him, but changed her mind and looked out the window. It wasn’t just the home drama bleeding into her school life. Part of her pulling away from him was because she’d started to catch feelings. And . . . he deserved better than that. Putting that distance between them was a good way to give him a chance to find friends who wouldn’t get feelings for him, friends he could be himself without all emotional baggage from that. It was also a good way to let those feelings dry out. Admitting that would obviously change their friendship, so she chose to be careful with her words.

“I just felt like I would’ve ruined our friendship and . . . I didn’t want that. You were the only one who made last year bearable for me.” Lexi offered a small, sheepish smile. “You were my first friend at Summerton. I’ll always think of you that way.”

Lexi valued their friendship more than her chosen words let on, but they were no lie; he was special to her. She hoped that the truth would be felt, enough to make amends. 

Virgil let the words hang in the air for a moment. The faint sound of music still played under it all which she was thankful for; the silence would’ve made this unbearable. He leaned back and drummed his fingers lightly on the steering wheel, letting the music play. Lexi began to wonder if she’d said too much.

“I’m glad I didn’t do anything. I mean, it sucked. Not knowing if I did something, or what it was,” he said. Lexi winced, guilt tightening in her chest. “But . . . you’re here now. I mean, you came down after not seeing you in months and then you passed out twice so, y’know. You scared the living daylights outta me.” Virgil’s head hung, like he was processing everything that happened in the basement. Then he shrugged and looked at Lexi with a grin. “I figure that still makes us friends, doesn’t it?”

Lexi smiled faintly, the relief so unexpected it felt like she was taking a breath of fresh air for the first time in months. “I guess it does.”

“Don’t scare me like that again, missus. Three strikes and you’re out. I’m . . . grounding you from helping us down in the basement,” Virgil tried to threaten playfully, but trailed off as he obviously couldn’t think of a fitting ‘punishment.’

“Okay,” Lexi nodded, covering her face so that he wouldn’t see how she was tearing up.

“Looks like they’re on their way back.”

Lexi frantically wiped her eyes and looked up to see Jeanette, Zeke and Charlie walk over with brown paper bags and drink carriers.

“I know you like Coke, but we still got you the OJ for that Vitamin C,” Virgil said. Lexi smiled gently at him.

He remembered.

Rapid knocking against her window made her jump out of her skin. As soon as Virgil unlocked the doors, Jeanette swung Lexi’s open. “She lives!! You feeling better?”

“Yeah, I am.” Lexi felt like her face was glowing with the smile she gave.

The boys placed the food on Virgil’s trunk and he got out of his seat to go meet them.

Okay, let’s do this.

Lexi thought about handing Zeke his jacket now, but decided it could wait. It was pure white and smearing it with hamburger grease just wouldn’t be ideal.

Stretching out her legs felt nice. Lexi placed a hand at the base of her neck, leaning her head back to feel her hair hang behind her. Remembering how she wasn’t in control of even doing that a few hours ago made her appreciate the gesture more.

“Here you go, Chickadee.” Jeanette’s outstretched hand had a half-wrapped burger. It looked absolutely delicious — veggies fresh, patty packed with the iron she needed.

“Thanks.”

After grabbing her own burger out of the bag, Jeanette went to place it on Virgil’s trunk for dibs. Lexi turned her back to the others and—

Fuck. That first bite was absolute heaven. Lexi took comfort in being with the group, listening to them banter like siblings. She became so ingrained in listening to which burger was the best, that she almost missed how she giggled. 

Giggled. It was effortless and it warmed her heart. 

Unfortunately, the time to leave finally came; she had to give Zeke his jacket back.

Everyone hitched a ride with Virgil, so Charlie loaded up in the passenger seat while Jeanette hopped in the backseat. Since Zeke came on his motorcycle, Virgil was saying goodbye to him near his trunk. With him there, it was now or never.

She approached and stiffly stuck out her hand. “Here you go. Thanks for letting me borrow it.”

He took it and she forced herself to glance up, knowing it’d be weird not to look at him at least once during the exchange. Heat rushed to her face, making her cheeks feel like they were steaming. Fuck, fuck, fuck — it wasn’t obvious was it?

Get your shit together. He’s just a guy.

And she didn’t know him. Even if he matched their descriptions, he wasn’t like Harry Potter, or Artemis Fowl or Leven Thumps. This wasn’t some fictional crush come to life scenario.

Her heart gave one final pound in defiance and she raised her chin.

Zeke nonchalantly took the jacket. “Yeah. Good to see you got some color back.”

She gave him a tight smile and a curt nod. “Yep.”

Then she promptly left; Lexi couldn’t stand being in front of him anymore. He asked Virgil if he could put it in his trunk for tomorrow right as she got in the backseat.

Back to Masterlist

Next part . . .

[iinitialfern]

The Bookworm and The Biker

7: Look at the Positives

Lexi paced.

The space they left behind felt heavier than it should’ve, like the vortex was a black hole and had sucked all the noise out of the room, too. She picked and scraped against all her fingers absently, certain she’d end up with mauled fingertips afterwards. 

But desperate times called for desperate measures.

They built a time machine, they actually built a time machine, she chanted. And it worked.

The platform where the slide projector held nothing — no glowing, ice-cold vortex and no boys. She looked down at the passing cement in front of her again. The time machine wasn’t the only thing that had her mind racing to catch up. 

On top of that, the boys were ‘test running’ it to help Chester — yes their Chester, the one who’d been humiliated in front of the school not even an hour ago — in a mission that would undo what happened to him. Apparently, Virgil and Charlie had also seen what happened to him right before Jeanette and Lexi had gotten to the common area. They got the idea to help using the machine. So they’d all missed each other there and in the administrative office, when the girls tried to find some clothes for Chester.

Speaking of clothes — Jeanette. Turns out she’s absurdly rich. Like, owns-a-whole-ski-resort kind of rich. And that ‘Goose’ she’d mentioned so many times before? Yeah, her chauffeur — real Princess Diaries type shit. When he dropped off the clothes Jeanette requested, Lexi went to help her get everything and saw he was driving a brand-new Lexus. Jeanette said she took it as a sign when she met Lexi in their dance class all those ages ago.

And Virgil — Lexi stopped pacing briefly, hand on her hip, exhaling heavily — Virgil was back. Just, suddenly in her life again, looking at her like she hadn’t disappeared on him earlier that spring. He was exactly how she remembered him, all easy smiles and charisma that fed into her guilt. She wasn’t ever expecting to see him again and running into him like this? Lexi’s brain turned into a mixed box of letter tiles, only able to produce sentences at a first grade level. She couldn’t even find a way to string those sentences together. There was too much she wanted to say — “I missed you,” “It’s good to see you too,” “I went away because I’m a shitty person,” — but she wasn’t about to say that in front of an audience.

Even more so when that audience included someone like Zeke, who was a physical embodiment of all her favorite book characters. The second she got over her shock at seeing Virgil again, her body had gone into round two when she caught a glimpse of the dark, messy hair and sharp, colored eyes. He hadn’t said much, but gave her an impressed look when Jeanette talked up Lexi’s intervention against the bullies. It was embarrassing, much like having your mom exaggerate about your accomplishments during Thanksgiving dinner. After that, she couldn’t bear the thought of looking directly at him anymore, though she was aware of where he was at all times. She didn’t want to be — she didn’t know who he was! — and that level of secret obsessiveness made her uneasy.

She stopped abusing her fingertips and tugged at her neckline. Fuck, it was heating up all of a sudden—no. It was just hard to breathe.

She’d barely had time to think between the reunion, the introductions, the clothes run, and the machine. Everything had been moving so fast she hadn’t let herself feel it. It was all hitting her now, in the one minute Charlie assured them it would take the boys to return. There was nothing to distract her.

“Chickadee, it’s only been like thirty seconds,” Jeanette said from the motorcycle hybrid seat. “They’ll be okay.”

Thirty—You’re kidding!

Lexi gave her a quick nod with a tight smile, only able to muster a small, “Yeah.”

She needed to get her shit together. Feeling so out of sorts with her spiraling thoughts would not cut it. What could she do? Look at the positives, reframe her thinking as she’d always done.

Chester was going to be okay, he’d be given spare clothes that Jeanette had just laying around. Jeanette happened to have resources and a very good friend, Goose who drove a regular car. Virgil, who she remained very good friends with after World Civ, would thank them for their help once they came back from . . . going to the vending machine. And Zeke was just a stranger, some random guy she met less than 30 minutes ago.

Yeah.

The vortex turned on, bringing that purple glow and polar temperatures. Lexi instinctively hugged herself. She walked over by Jeanette at the control panel when the weirdest shit happened.

Mid-step, her hoodie just appeared.

She was no longer hugging her bare arms, she was hugging sleeves. It took half a second for her brain to register the weight on her shoulders and Lexi frowned, beginning to clutch at the fabric. Before she could look down, her head snapped back like it had been struck by a soccer ball, and her knees buckled.

She fell forward, vaguely aware of how the side of her skull hit the concrete because it felt like she was falling backwards simultaneously. There was an influx of voices, instances of a memory she didn’t remember seemingly integrating into the things she did remember. 

In her mind, the sneaker rolled across the tile when she entered the common area with Jeanette, but then she saw Jeanette’s smile as she started to explain what Room 77 was. They walked through the common area, which was both bustling with the regular foot traffic and crowded with onlookers laughing at Chester. 

Everything that was happening in her brain felt like her life was flashing before her eyes. Somehow, Lexi knew she was seeing two versions of the same day play out. One where she and Jeanette had helped Chester. One where they never had to.

As the images and voices battled, Lexi was paralyzed; she could feel everything, but she couldn’t move. The side of her head was throbbing from hitting the ground and she could feel the texture of the cement against her cheek.

Fuck, it’s cold.

“Jeanette? Lexi?” she heard Virgil from the cardboard corner.

I’m here! Lexi wanted to scream, but her body wouldn’t cooperate. Desperation clawed at her chest. Sitting with that anxiety and not being able to do a thing about it was the most terrified she’d ever felt. Virgil, I’m here!

“Shit. Okay, uh. We need to lay them down with their heads to the side,” she heard Zeke say.

“Okay, okay.” Virgil sounded frantic. “Uh, you get Lexi, I’ll get Jeanette—she’s shorter. Charlie, lay out cardboard boxes.”

Lexi couldn’t even mentally react to the fact that Zeke, a stranger, was about to pick her up. Another wave of memories hit her — conflicting words, noises, sensations. The sun getting trapped in her sleeves felt like a ghost brushing against her arm.

She barely felt how she was rolled to her side and lifted. If her body allowed it, she would’ve gasped. Once she was leveled out, her neck bent back painfully. The weight of her hair made it worse, it swung with each step Zeke took.

Look at the positives. At least her . . . hair was getting out of her face? The angle hurt, but it was getting annoying being suffocated by it covering her nose. Zeke shifted his arms, making it so that her head leaned forward and rested against his arm.

Thank you. At least her neck wasn’t on the verge of snapping anymore. She was gently spread across a softer surface.

“You said turn—” Virgil started.

“Turn their heads, yeah,” Zeke said, using his thumb to guide her chin to the side. She felt the heat radiate from his hand and wished she could grab it — anything that would make her feel less like a corpse with each passing second.

“How do you know to do this?”

“There was a training over the summer at the shop — I don’t remember all of it. I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to lift their legs too? But I think she could have hit her head.”

Yeah, my head hurts.

“Charlie, what’s happening?!” Virgil asked.

And just like that, the paralysis left. Lexi gasped for air, unable to fill her need for it; she vaguely heard Jeanette groaning. She tried sitting up, but a hand pressed against her shoulder lightly. Although she was relieved she could move again, her body tensed when she realized it was Zeke, who was kneeling beside her. Where was—

Jeannette? Virgil?

“Don’t move yet,” Zeke said. “Give it a second.”

She laid back down, her teeth chattering before she was fully on the ground. From the corner of her eye, she saw them on her other side and turned to face them, curling into a ball.

“What’s wrong?” Zeke asked behind her.

“‘S so c-cold,” she muttered, grasping at the fabric of her hoodie. Her entire body was trembling, adding truth to her words. There was no comfort in grabbing her hoodie, no warmth. How long would it take for her to build up some heat? What if she pulled the collar of her hoodie over her nose and breathed inside?

Her question was answered almost immediately, when a warm weight nestled comfortably around her. Lexi’s eyes fluttered half-open to find that Zeke had draped his snowsuit jacket over her.

“Does that help?” he asked.

She managed to give a curt nod and gripped the inside of the jacket, dying to soak up the remnants of his body heat. Virgil was checking in on Jeanette beside her who, unlike her, was able to speak coherently.

“Why aren’t you . . . ?” Zeke started. He didn’t need to finish the question to know what he was trying to ask; Jeanette wasn’t freezing out of her skin like Lexi was.

“An-n-nemic,” Lexi managed.

“Huh?” Zeke said.

“I’m . . . anemic.”

Aaand today had to be the day I barely had anything to eat. 

Food and sunlight, those were the two things she needed in that instance.

“What the hell is that?” She barely heard Zeke ask.

“Charlie, can you look up what that is on that computer we wired?” Virgil asked. His voice was closer and Lexi’s eyes fluttered, seeing that he was kneeling next to her.

“Yes. But we should probably also—” Charlie said.

“Charlie, let’s just give them a moment to—” Virgil tried to say.

Charlie continued as if he hadn’t heard Virgil. “—ask what they remember, it would help us get a better understanding how our intervention altered their—”

“Charlie, don’t,” Zeke snapped. “Now’s not the time for that shit.”

The worst of the cold was ebbing away, but her clarity went with it; she had the low-energy jitters. 

Ohhh, shit. With each blink, she fought harder to open her eyes again.

“Ugh, my bones feel like they got jump-scared,” Jeanette groaned, seemingly stirring beside her. 

Oh, come on. Lexi was vaguely aware that she needed to try and maintain appearances. If Jeanette was getting up, she should be able to get up, too. Rolling to her side, she tried pushing herself up with a shaky arm. A hand reached to her and she looked up to find Virgil, staring at her in concern. When did he get there?

She couldn’t be bothered to hide the fatigue in her eyes.

“Just take it slow,” he said.

Oof, I must really look like shit, huh? 

“Right.”

Jeanette was already on her feet, making Lexi feel a dull pang of jealousy. The desire to just . . .  sleep on the floor was becoming more enticing.

“Do you need help?” Virgil asked, his voice cutting through the haziness forming around her.

Lexi nodded weakly. “Please.”

“Okay, so anemia,” Charlie said, his voice accompanied by keyboard clacking. Virgil held his hand out to help her up and when Lexi took it, she felt his arm tense up. “It’s a condition where the blood doesn’t have enough iron, making it difficult to carry healthy red blood cells through the body. Symptoms include fatigue, weakness, shortness of breath, pale skin, dizziness and cold hands or feet.”

His words were blending together, Lexi was unable to pick them apart.

“That lines up,” Virgil said. “Her hand is freezing.”

Charlie was adding something else, but Lexi didn’t care to register it. All she could focus on was staying straight up—

Stay up, do not do this right now.

Virgil kept a firm grip on Lexi’s arm. Her head hung to the side lazily. “Does that sound good? Burgers and some OJ?”

“Huh?” Burgers. Meat — iron. “Yeah.”

“Are you good to walk, or do you need Zeke to carry you?” Virgil asked. His voice sounded so—

Far away. Like, it was coming through a tunnel.

“I just . . . need a second.” Lexi felt herself start to waver. “I’m so sleepy.”

Then the whole world turned black.

Back to Masterlist

Next part . . .

[iinitialfern]

The Bookworm and The Biker

6: Plan B to the Plan A

When Charlie showed up to the basement on his own, Zeke knew something had happened. He and Virgil always arrived together on A-Days, thanks to their Home Ec class. Turns out he was right. Chester was the target of something similar to ‘The Incident’ and Virgil wanted to use the first run of the machine to help him.

Zeke scoffed to himself.

Of course, he does.

Not that it was a bad idea. He wasn’t particularly fond of Chester, but hearing that the kid was essentially stripped down and forced to beg for his clothes made Zeke’s blood boil. Virgil finally appeared and dropped a pile of clothes on the diving board they’d installed to jump into the vortex. Once Zeke saw what he brought, he recognized that helping Chester became more of a stretch.

There was only one pair of pants — bright pink, with the word Juicy across the backside in rhinestones.

What. The. Fuck? Zeke rubbed his forehead, sighing heavily. “Are you sure you wanna do this now with . . . that?” 

The options sucked. There was a mess of long-sleeves, sweaters and a few scarves, no doubt meant for them to layer for the unplanned jump. They needed to come up with a better plan.

“If it turns out to be a disaster, we could come up with a Plan B to the Plan A,” Virgil shrugged.

Zeke raised his eyebrow. He didn’t need to state how that wasn’t a good strategy.

Virgil sighed. “Look, we can’t just leave him with the memory of that happening for any longer than he needs to. I’d rather he get made fun of for wearing pink sweatpants than for being half-naked and jumping around for his clothes.”

Normally Zeke would push back, but for some reason, he didn’t want to. He let out a breath.

Goddammit.

“I’ll dump out my tool bag so we can take the clothes in that.”

At least there weren’t any metal shavings in that one. The only thing out of the pile that fit him was a faded purple sweater that looked itchy. Thankfully, the long-sleeve he was already wearing would keep him from actually touching it. He only hoped that between those two things, he wouldn’t feel too cold through the jump. He grabbed an awful orange scarf, his brazing goggles, and was ready to go.

Charlie was quickly attempting to wire a remote control hookup, and let out a frustration groan. He stood from the far side of the machine holding a pair of electrician’s pliers and a wrench. “This remote-control hookup isn’t going to work!”

“What do you mean?” Virgil asked.

“This is no good!” Charlie barely seemed to register the question. Zeke had picked up on that little habit of his early on. Whenever he was in the zone, he usually had a conversation with himself and had to be given time until he finished saying his piece. “We have to be able to make adjustments while we’re back in time.”

Zeke leaned on the diving board next to Virgil, who had the bag in front of him ready to go with the spare clothes. His mind raced to find a solution until Virgil threw one out.

“Well, it sounds like one of us is gonna have to hang back.”

Zeke couldn’t think of a better plan, so that one would have to do. The question then became: who should stay? Virgil came up with a way to decide instantly.

“. . . Not it!”

He’d said it so suddenly that Zeke looked down at him, surprised, and found that Virgil was grinning playfully.

Fuck it.

“Not it!” Zeke said.

“Not it! Awww! Dang it!” The tools Charlie held clattered as he dropped them on the machine in frustration. “That’s not fair. I invented the machine.”

“Okay. Re-do . . . Not it!”

“Not it!”

“Not — Daah! Double dang it!” Charlie lamented.

Zeke shared a glance with Virgil as they both laughed. It was fun to mess around with him whenever the opportunity presented itself.

“Not it!” came a familiar voice from the entrance. Zeke froze, not because Jeanette had somehow found her way down there, but because her presence added a whole new variable to their controlled environment. It was made worse by the fact that she wasn’t alone.

The girl that stood next to her was taller with insanely long, black hair. The way her arms were crossed looked like she was giving herself a hug. Zeke could understand why. The basement was cooler than up above, especially in the late afternoon when the sun was at its peak. It was a relief for him since he ran pretty hot, but for her? Didn’t seem like it.

“Lexi?” Virgil said in disbelief beside him.

Zeke’s brows furrowed and he glanced at the girl. She looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“Virgil.”

Jeanette’s gaze bounced between them and she hopped enthusiastically. “Chickadee, you know Goldfinch?!”

“Yeah, we, um. We had a class last year.”

“I thought something happened!” Virgil said. “It’s nice to see you again, with Jeanette of all people.”

Lexi gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Yep.”

Zeke’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. He wasn’t sure what the backstory was, but he could confidently say that her apparent grievances would complicate shit around there.

“What are you guys doing here?” Virgil asked.

“Oh!” Jeanette stepped forward, unfolding a paper she pulled out from her patched bag. “We were looking for a club to join and we saw yours — The Back to the Future Fan Club.”

“Oh, right.” Virgil shot him and Charlie an uneasy side-glance.

“I love that movie,” Jeanette continued. “Even though I never really saw it. But I totally love the idea of time travel! I mean, it’s just sooo . . . science-fictiony?”

“Hmm . . .” Virgil brought a hand up to his chin. “Actually guys, your timing is very interesting.”

Zeke knew he wanted to enlist their help to operate the machine when they jumped into the vortex. Not a bad option—he caught himself. What the hell was going on with him? This was, what? The fourth time he thought Virgil actually had a good idea in the span of a day? If he told himself at the beginning of the year that he was going to repeatedly agree to Virgil's ideas, he would’ve scoffed.

“No, it isn’t,” Charlie quickly said, breaking Zeke out of his train of thought as he walked over to them. “Virgil, what are you doing?”

“Uh, give us a sec.” Zeke held up a finger toward the girls before joining the huddle.

“Listen, Charlie—” Virgil started.

“No, absolutely not.”

“Charlie! It only makes sense if you—”

“—it’s Jeanette, Virgil!”

“—they can can turn on the time machine—”

“Shh!” Charlie turned to check that the girls didn’t hear that part, prompting Virgil — and consequently, Zeke as well — to acknowledge them with what he hoped were unassuming smiles.

Lexi frowned slightly, but Jeanette returned the smile with a little wave. “Hi.”

So, they did not hear anything. When they turned back to their huddle, Charlie didn’t even bother trying to keep his voice down.

“No,” he flat out stated.

“You’re being unreasonable—” Virgil tried to get through to him.

“No, no—”

“It makes sense Charlie!” Virgil added.

But Charlie didn’t want to hear it. He kept saying no, and he said it louder until he flat out screamed it.

“You’re wrong!” he yelled at Virgil.

Virgil’s frustration got the better of him and he smacked Charlie’s arm to get him to listen. Before Zeke knew it, the pair engaged in a slapping match that he had to end.

“Hey, hey! No hitting!”

“Uh . . . should we go?” Lexi cut in, jabbing her thumb over her shoulder.

“No!” Zeke and Virgil said at the same time.

Virgil then cleared his throat. “We could use your help, actually.”

Jeanette was already in, Zeke could tell, but Lexi? Her expression was harder to read. She sure as shit didn’t look thrilled, but she stayed.

That was the beginning of the oncoming disaster.

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