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

yet. And I doubt our counterparts would appreciate slamming into an icy pond.

No, definitely not, I sign. Let’s stick with easy.

We crouch down at the water’s edge, and he breaks through the thin ice. The water is crystal clear, and I’m easily able to see myself in the surface. I reach out, putting tentative fingers to the water as I stare at the other me, my mind filling with images of chandeliers and chrome and sparkling everything.

I push on the surface, and the water is so cold, it makes my fingers numb. I concentrate as hard as I can with my fingers freezing off, and my hand pushes down … right into the water, soaking my sleeve.

I draw back, making a startled sound as I shake the water off my frozen hand.

Don’t get distracted, Finn signs. You have to tune out the conditions around you and focus on where you want to go.

Can’t we just go back home and find a decent mirror?

Finn shakes his head. You need to learn this. Someday, you may need to travel quickly, or under harsh conditions. Keep your focus, and you’ll be fine.

I rub my hands together, trying to get them warm, and I try again, gazing at my reflection in the water and looking closely as my fingertips barely graze the surface. It still takes two more tries and an achingly cold hand before things begin to morph before my eyes.

This time, instead of the easy give of water, it feels thicker, tighter. One strong push and I am through.

Whoa. So this is where I live over here. My room is a technicolor, glittering nightmare. Everything is in neon shades of yellow and pink, and I have what looks like four shimmering disco balls instead of light fixtures, and all four of them are spinning at different speeds. It makes me want to throw up. If Danny were here, he’d be crouched in a corner with his eyes shut.

I am suddenly filled with a wave of homesickness so strong it brings tears to my eyes and they spill over, sliding down my cheeks. I miss my Danny, singing along with Disney movies. I miss his goofy sense of humor and even the way he announces it like the town crier every time he farts. I miss climbing into my mom’s bed at night, after Danny goes to sleep. I know she’s tired, but she never tells me to leave. It’s the only time we have really that’s just for us, and we lie there and I talk about my day and we laugh and she lets me fall asleep there, if I want to. And when she turns out the light, she smooths my hair back and kisses my forehead, even though I’m seventeen. I pretend I’m asleep when she does it, but I’m really not.

“You okay?” Finn says, coming up behind me.

I nod, wiping my cheeks with the backs of my hands. “Just homesick.” I give a watery laugh. “It feels so weird to hear. And talk.”

“A big mouthful of glitter mousse might help the situation,” he says.

“Lead the way.” I slide my hand into his, and we walk down the hammered chrome staircase with the eye-burning fuchsia carpet and out through the multicolored front room with the rotating chrome fireplace.

I’m relieved to see that the street looks nearly normal. The exteriors of the houses are a lot more flamboyant, and the cars look like something out of a 1950s sci-fi movie about the future, but we’re able to find our way to Mugsy’s without too much trouble.

We get our mousse and slide into the booth. I don’t even bother waiting till I’ve sat down—I pull a huge dollop off with my finger and cram it in my mouth.

I roll my eyes in ecstasy, not bothering to say how good this is. Finn knows. And he’s right; I do feel a little better. I wish I could bring some of this back for my mom and my brother. I’m not sure if Danny would try it because it looks strange, but he’d love it if he did.

“You want a refill?” Finn asks, pointing to my nearly empty bowl.

“I do, but I’m also debating the merits of a cupcake.” I hope other me can forgive me for sabotaging her diet this once. I need it.

“Why don’t I go get both, and we can share them?” Finn suggests.

“It’s obvious to me why I like you.” I grin.

“Be right back.”

Finn makes his way to the counter, and I spend a moment looking at the outrageous posters on the wall. Apparently, clowns are a major thing in this reality, and they all look demented in the posters. I cannot suppress a shudder.

My fingers are sticky from the glitter mousse, so I walk back to the bathroom to wash them before I add a layer of frosting. I’ve just finished drying my hands and I’m opening the door when it’s suddenly shoved in from the other side. My mind barely has time to register the intruder before I’m pushed back and spun around, falling into the polished chrome wall.

I let out a sound of protest because I’m surprised, but my eyes are on the sparkling, gloved hand with all its bracelets and jewelry that comes down to hold my palm flat against the wall. My startled eyes lock on my reflection next to it. Before I can get my bearings, I feel a mighty push from behind, and then the grip on my arm breaks.

I am through. And I am all alone.

36

Walking on the Moon

The landscape around me is an endless sea of gray. It’s unrelenting. Everywhere you look, there is almost nothing to break up the monotony. If my lungs weren’t frantically sucking in air, I’d think I landed on the surface of the moon.

I guess I just met the other Traveler. And I think it’s a woman. A very strong woman, apparently.

Where is Finn? Does she have him? I glance around frantically, but neither of