When she remembers visiting Dad in his high-rise building each holidays, she thinks about how walking down Adelaide Terrace felt like walking through a canyon; how she was small anyway, but felt ... [+]
Isabelle
We burst into the museum, and the tour guide launched into his speech the second we crossed the threshold. He spotted me right away and rolled his eyes, like I'd already ruined his morning. I hadn't even said anything loud yet. But I didn't care; this was my zone. History. I couldn't resist, I started pointing things out, explaining what I knew as we passed each section. A few classmates were clearly annoyed, but whatever, they were lucky I was narrating. Without me, they'd probably walk past a Spartan sword and call it a shovel.
Once we finished in the main rooms and halls, we were split into pairs. Lucky me, I was paired with the one guy who never talked. I'm convinced all he ever does is read; he even had a book with him in a museum. Who does that, or walks and reads without hitting a pillar? I have no idea, but he barely looked up the entire time.
Rowan
The museum was quiet until we walked in. While everyone else whispered, our group talked nonstop, mostly because of one girl, Isabelle Frank. Nicest person you'll ever meet, but she's a lot. People who can't handle her call her Hurricane Girl or, my favorite, Crazy Brain, a play on Crazy Train. I lingered at the back, reading the book I brought. I found it easier to get lost in stories than in people.
The guide walked us through the front exhibits, then split us into pairs. Of course, I got Isabelle—just my luck. We wandered into the next section, looking at artifacts while she zigzagged around and narrated everything she saw. I read and nodded when it seemed appropriate. I wouldn't have been surprised if she started explaining why the bathrooms were at the end of the hallway instead of the entrance.
She suddenly stopped and looked at me. "Am I bothering you?" Her eyebrows scrunched like she couldn't tell what my deal was.
"Huh?" I blinked at her for a second before answering. "No. Not at all."
She sighed, crossing her arms. "You think I'm annoying, don't you? You're too good for me or something?"
I chose my next words carefully. I'm not the smartest guy out there, but even I could tell she was like a bomb waiting for someone to pull the pin.
"No, you're fine, I'm just trying to get through this as fast as I can."
Yeah, I shouldn't have said that. Foot, meet mouth. Her face twisted somewhere between crying and yelling
"Oh," she forced an awkward smile.
Then she spun around and continued walking quietly, mumbling to herself. I couldn't tell exactly what she was saying; I only caught a few things about me ignoring her. She stopped at a large spherical object with blue glowing cracks and ancient carvings. Most likely a prop, I thought. Isabelle tilted her head slightly as if something was off.
Isabelle
That's new, of all the times I've been here, I've never seen an artifact like this...
A thought hit me so hard I snapped back to reality. I suddenly knew exactly what I should've said to Rowan earlier. I spun around and set my hand on the pedestal, careful not to knock the weird orb off. Of course, he was already buried in his book again,
"You wouldn't last a day as me." I think I said it a little too loudly because other people looked over.
His face twitched. He lowered his book and leaned in close, bracing one hand on the pedestal
"I wouldn't last a day as you? You wouldn't last a day as me," His whisper made me shudder
That weird orb suddenly lit up behind me, like a camera flash on steroids. I felt lightheaded, and the floor seemed to tilt. The air hummed, sharp like static, then total darkness.
Rowan
An alarm was screaming in my ear. I fumbled around until I grabbed a phone. Not mine. I sat up. My hands were smaller. Feminine. The bed was pink. The whole room was pink. I found a mirror and froze. Isabelle. I was Isabelle. My head buzzed, thoughts piling over each other. Think. What did we do? What could've— the memory hit me—the orb. I need to get to the museum before I have to talk to anyone. How hard can that be? I avoid people all the time. I checked the phone screen. The day restarted, and we still have the field trip. I'll see her there.
I tore through her closet and shoved on a gray hoodie. I ran down the stairs and looked around. Nobody. I cautiously opened the door and slipped out. As I hurried down the street, I kept waiting to wake up. Maybe she'd punched me and knocked me out or something. Maybe this was a coma dream. But when I caught my reflection in a window, Isabelle's wide eyes stared back. I knew this was real. And if I were here... she was out there. As me. I had to find her—me—whatever! But first, the bus. If I missed it, I was left with finding another way.
As soon as I found the bus stop, I frantically stumbled onto the bus. The bus driver rolled his eyes at me as soon as I got on. Classmates chatted among themselves while I kept my head down, trying to avoid talking to anyone. But their voices seeped into my brain, and I could hear every insult and snicker.
"Yo, Hurricane Girl," someone said, snickering, "what's the matter? Lose your megaphone?"
Everyone laughed. I clenched Isabelle's phone in my hand so hard my knuckles popped. Something snapped inside me. I stood up, staring him in the eyes. I almost stopped myself because I knew he wouldn't listen, but it erupted out of me like hot lava.
"You have no idea what it's like to feel too much," I blurted. "To say one wrong thing and get eye-rolls, to act loud so no one sees you're scared of being ignored. Maybe if you ever actually listened to me, you would understand me better!"
Everyone stared. Even the bus driver glanced back in the mirror. I think I said what she was meaning to say this whole time. I dropped back into the seat, heat still burning through me. That's when I felt someone staring. I looked up, ready to snap again, and froze. It was me. My own face, standing in the aisle, pale and wide-eyed.
Isabelle
I stood there, frozen. It was the moment of silence after that I finally realized what I had been missing all along. He stayed quiet because no one ever listened; I filled the silence because I was scared of what people might say if I didn't. And with that, I chose to stay silent, not because I forced myself to, but because I didn't have to say anything. I just sat down. Maybe the orb didn't curse us. Maybe it just made us listen. I looked over and my face smiled back. I chuckled, not at the absurdity, but because I finally understood him.
When the bus halted, we all piled in. For the first time, I walked next to Rowan not as a stranger, but as someone who finally saw him. The light in the museum as we came through the doors was almost blinding. Once inside, I looked to my side and saw Rowan, and he looked back at me, smiled, and returned his gaze forward. The tour guide split us into groups of two, and just like before, I was with Rowan.
He smiled and took a small book from his pocket. "Here."
"You get to tell me about everything this time." I winked at him, and he laughed under his breath.
This time, we walked more slowly. We didn't rush; we wanted to see everything.