Linear; Part of The Half-Breeds series

Linear

By Zachary Smith

Text copyright © 2016 Zachary Smith

All Rights Reserved

Smashwords Edition

For a beautiful country, and my second home, New Zealand.

Thank you for the warm welcome and allowing me the privilege to stay for the amount of time I did.

You ignited a spark within me I didn’t know I had, and the memories I made will be treasured forever.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

After-Author Scene

Chapter 1

2nd May

With a double shot flat white in hand, I pass the usual suspects I’ve come to expect on my morning commute to college. Mainly men and women dressed in their neatly ironed suits, walking in sync with each other towards the CBD (the Central Business District). Then, there’re the fashionably dressed teenagers – myself included, sporting my new flame red curls – walking in the opposite direction as we make our way to the glass building atop the hill; our main campus.

Inside, I find one of my oldest friends, Jamie, sinking into a lime-coloured beanbag. Pushing her freshly cut honey bangs from her eyes, she greets me with a smile, as she does most mornings. Finally, she exhales, effortlessly offering out her arms for a hug – of which I have to do all the work. I see you went with the red, she adds.

What do you think? I ask, with a quick twirl and flick of the hair.

Sweet as! she gushes.

Most days, Jamie and I have class at the same time – a happy coincidence – so I normally meet her in the common room, a large open area with many different levels, sectioned for study and chill-out, to catch up with beforehand. Especially today of all days – a Monday – where we have the whole weekend to go over. First topic: boys. Neither of us have one. Moving on. Topic two: a family event I had to spend up in Auckland and the reason we were torn apart. It was nothing special, kind of boring. Topic three; college, assignments and all things learning. Bringing us to the final, but always hot topic; whether I’d time-hopped.

You see, like most teenage girls, I talk the usual talk; boys, fashion, social media, and celebrities (with social media). But unlike most teenage girls – or any I’ve ever encountered – I have a special gift, an ability, and have done since I was thirteen. The power to rewind time. But there are limits, for I do not have full control over my power and can’t simply jump back whenever I feel like it, and then it’s only by minutes or maybe hours – if I’m lucky. Of course, this has helped me a lot since my power manifested, as hours and minutes can change a person's life in seconds.

Puppy eyes wide, Jamie hangs on my every word, having always been intrigued and quite envious of my special status. "I had a drink in hand, cranberry juice… and I hit the deck. I’m talking full disclosure to the floor, throwing the glass as I rolled, covering my cousin and her wedding dress… it was awful!"

Face planting her palms, Jamie shakes her head in dismay. You egg! And then…

Then, I hopped back to a moment just before it all happened; so I took a different route and stayed well away from my cousin for the rest of the night.

Time-hops allow my life to play out normally until a mishap or problem should arise, then I’m transported back a few minutes to relive the exact moment, only, this time, I know what’s about to happen and can prevent it. Handy, to say the least, but it doesn’t erase those moments from my memory because I have actually lived them. Hurtful comments, divulged secrets and many disappointed glares have been thrown my way, only for time to rewind and reset anew, allowing everyone else the luxury to forget, but me.

Hurrying through the hallways, Jamie breaks away to her classroom. Have fun in bio, she says with a wave. Leaving me with the impossible task of somehow making it to the other side of the campus in record time – I knew I shouldn’t have had that second coffee.

Ducking and weaving through the other students with my bag rustling from behind, I take a glance at my watch. I’m making good time so far and should just make it. Spurred onwards, I power upstairs, down more hallways and across open study areas, until wham! Having been distracted momentarily in my haste, I hadn’t seen my lecturer stood in the doorway and slammed into him head first. Exam papers flutter in a cloud of white before fanning to the coffee stained ground where I find myself. Opposite, Mr Tau erratically pats his scolding body in a fit, cursing my stupidity. Pull your head out of the sky, Kristen, he yells in front of a class full of sniggering students.

Never have I seen him like this before. Mr Tau is the favourite of all my teachers; he’s the kindest and the most helpful. He’s never once raised his voice, not to anyone. Eyes welling up from sheer shock, I apologise over and over, only for him to sternly dismiss my advances. Just sit down, he fumes, fading into the distance.

"Have fun in bio," says Jamie with a wave.

Breathing heavily, I swallow hard and regain my bearings. A quick glance at the watch tells me I’ve been given a second chance to get to class. Cautiously stepping through the classroom door, I’m greeted by Mr Tau with a jolly smile as he pushes his thick black framed glasses back up his nose. Good morning, Miss Monroe, he says, planting his steaming coffee mug on the desk.

The lesson is a blur and I found myself unable to concentrate. Having noticed, Mr Tau offered to help, which I declined, stating I think I’ve got it. When in truth, I couldn’t look passed the harshly disappointed scowls he’d directed at the clumsy fool who wasn’t looking where they were going… me! He doesn’t remember it, why would he? It never happened, not for him, nor the other students… it’s a time only I’ll remember.

An evening run helps clears away the lingering cobwebs of the day, helping me readjust my timeline and forget the memories of a time that never happened. Passing the many high-rise buildings, I make my way to the harbour and travel a good chunk of it. My home, the city of Wellington, is the capital of New Zealand; the southernmost capital in the world. It’s nicknamed windy Wellington, and rightly so, as I find myself powering through strong gusts that flick my flaming hair into a mattered mess.

You’re home early? my dad questions, as I lumber through the front door.

Cut my run short, I reply, freeing my pained feet from my trainers.

My dad, Kaleb, has raised me in a small bungalow since my mother passed away when I was a toddler. I don’t remember her much, nor does my dad speak of her, not since her untimely death. Suicide, apparently. But he’s always refused such a fate, stuck in the belief that she was happy, loved and would never have wanted to leave our little family unit. What do I believe? I’ve never put too much thought into it, what’s the point? I can either believe my mother killed herself to get away from us, or that she was murdered… both endings are unhappy ones, so I try and pretend neither happened.

Stretching his tribal tattooed arm across the dining table, my dad reaches for the tomato sauce before covering his plate in the red sludge – just like every other night. And although we serve dinner in the dining room, we normally fill our plates before making our way to the living room, to eat in front of the TV. Tonight’s feast; steak and kumara – sweet potato – chips. Chitchat is kept to a minimum, just the odd question about college and how it’s going before my dad becomes too engrossed in one of his favourite shows. Which I don’t mind too much, as I’ve a heap of coursework to complete and this way I’m able to finish before him and retire to my cramped bedroom to make a start.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3rd May

The sound of my alarm pulls me from my slumber.