Traveler, L.E. DeLano [book series for 12 year olds .TXT] 📗

for the best part.” He opens his mouth, smiling widely.

I suck my breath in, choking on a laugh. “You’re glowing!” His teeth and tongue are shining like neon.

“Should have brought you here at night,” he remarks. “The effects last for hours.”

I bring my hand up to my mouth self-consciously. “How am I going to explain this? When we get back?”

Finn answers around another spoonful. “You won’t have to. You’ll be back as your other self. She didn’t eat this stuff.”

“In that case, maybe I’ll have two.”

He raises his brows. “I don’t think the other you would appreciate it.”

I look down at myself. My clothes detract a lot from the rest of me because they’re pretty loud and flamboyant, but it’s clear I weigh more here. I’m not obese or anything, but I am definitely overweight.

“Are you making a remark about my—our—weight?”

“Not like you think. I just know that this Jessa used to weigh more. A lot more. She’s been working really hard to get in shape.”

He’s right. The memories of all the early morning workouts and the ways I’ve cut back come to me. Now I feel bad. I really shouldn’t sabotage everything I’ve been working toward over here.

“Guess I’ll stick with one.”

I take another spoonful, sighing in contentment as it melts on my tongue.

“So…,” I muse.

“So…?” He licks his spoon.

“You know me here.” The memories are trickling in as I access them. “But we’re not together.”

“I know you everywhere.” he replies, “and we’re not officially together yet because I only just got to know you.”

The memories are getting clearer now. Finn used to work here, and in a complete change of events, I told him that he was a Traveler.

“So just because I know I’m a Traveler in one reality doesn’t mean I know it in another?” I ask. “I mean, I knew before you over here. We don’t all become aware at the same moment?”

“No. What are you, Skynet?” he smirks.

“That,” I say, pointing my spoon at him, “was a solid nerd joke. Ten points to Gryffindor.”

He looks at me blankly.

“No Harry Potter, huh?”

He shrugs, still clueless. “No Terminator, either. I just happened to catch it on TV once, when I was traveling.”

“So you’re not from here?”

“Here?” He glances around at the shining chrome and sparkling chandeliers of glittery Mugsy’s.

“There,” I qualify. “Back where I’m from. You’re not from my reality.”

“No.” He looks uncomfortable.

“Do you know me, where you’re from?”

“I did.”

I let that hang in the air for a minute before I bite my lip and ask.

“Did I move away?”

He holds my eyes.

“No.”

“When—” I clear my throat. “When did it happen?” I can’t bring myself to ask how it happened. I get the feeling he was there.

“Three years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, and I really am. I can see the hurt in his eyes. Whoever we were to each other, we were obviously close.

“It’s okay,” he says. “Not like I really lost you, after all. We’re Travelers. We’re always around somewhere.”

He gives me a stiff shrug, but it doesn’t quite cover the pain in his voice. I can’t help myself. I reach across the table for his hand. He rubs his thumb across the back of my knuckles, and the feel of his hand on mine is incredibly familiar.

“That’s got to be weird, though. Seeing a different me every time.”

“You get used to it.”

He says it, but something in his voice tells me you don’t, really.

“What if ‘other me’ kills somebody or OD’s on drugs or something?” I ask.

“It’s possible,” he concurs, “but not likely. You’re still you, after all.”

“Not over here, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.” He leans in, lowering his voice. “That’s why you’re a Traveler. You’re still you, no matter where you are. You’re just you, reacting to different circumstances.” His fingers tighten on mine. “The things that make you fundamentally you won’t change, Jessa.”

“What if I had a hard life? Grew up on the streets? Hung out with murderers?”

“You’d still be you.”

That makes me feel better. “So, that’s why I can do this? Because none of it will change me?”

“I didn’t say that,” Finn replies. “You can’t help but be shaped by the events around you, to some degree. But as a Traveler, you can recognize that they’re all just random particles that swirl around you and might become part of a bigger plan. It’s all transient. Maybe we’re a little smarter, or braver … maybe just more resilient. I don’t know. But we’re this way for a reason.”

“This is still wildly beyond comprehension,” I sigh. “It really is.”

“Don’t sweat it,” he tells me, scraping out the bottom of his bowl with his spoon. “Mario’s got it all under control. He’ll guide you along until you get the hang of it. I would imagine he’ll give you your first official job soon.”

I hold up a hand. “Whoa. Oh, no. Not yet. I’m not ready for a job yet. I haven’t even agreed to sign up for this,” I remind him.

“You’re already signed up for this, Jessa,” he points out. “And you’ve been seeing other realities for a while—you just didn’t realize it. Now you can consciously travel. That’s the only difference. I can help a little with some of it, teach you how to shift in dim light, or into water, or when your image is clouded or rippling. It just takes practice. Lots of practice.”

“I haven’t given an official answer about any of this,” I protest.

“Jessa…”

I’ve had enough. I’m not ready to commit to this. “I want to go home,” I say firmly. “Now.”

“Come on…”

“Now, Finn.”

He sits back in the booth. “So go ahead.” He shrugs. “Go back.”

“You’re not coming?”

He crosses his arms. “No. Figure it out yourself. You know how.”

I glance over at the restroom door, but it’s closed and occupied.

“Great,” I huff.

“You don’t have to have a mirror, you know,” he says, raising a brow. “Any reflective surface will work, so long as you can see yourself.”

I glance around, and the polished chrome wall next to me in the booth catches my eye.