Not a Bestseller

All Talk and No Explanations

I put the bracelet in a plastic water bottle where I knew it would be safe. If you realize what's wrong with this scenario, congratulations. You have the ability to think.

When I woke up the next morning, Tiny Person decided to perform the most elaborate morning routine ever.

First, I stole my mother's comb and ran it through my head until it had ten percent more order than usual. It took three rounds of clothes to find something that didn't make me look like an overstretched pasta noodle. The red baggy shirt made me skinnier, but the tight orange one was a big show-off of nothing. Same with pants. My shoes were borrowed from my father. Why I wanted my height to shoot up so much that I hit my head on the door, I'll never know.

One lame excuse to my parents later, I was out the door with the container in hand. My legs became Jell-O. Would she even be there?

She had to be. This was Julia we were talking about. It would take an alien invasion to keep her inside the house on a morning like this. The world looked like a Bob Ross painting.

"Good morning," some random person said to me who has nothing to do with the plot.

He was in one of those crazy wheelchairs that makes a kid think of their grandfather as a personal carnival ride, complete with a control pad on the right arm rest. The image stuck with me. Even this guy was out on a walk that wasn't really a walk. Julia would have to be here.

I really hoped she hadn't bluffed about her daily walks by the fountain.

The old fountain wasn't as special now, with all its broken, useless parts scattered and mossy water lying inside. I leaned against it and peered at the paved walkway, up the surrounding buildings, and out towards the empty streets.

I glanced at my watch.

Five thirty.

A.M.

What the heck was I thinking? Who in their right-mind would be out on a walk at five thirty? And on a weekend? I guess Tiny Person had been in Left Brain headquarters.

"Yo, kid!"

My ribcage jabbed. The man looked like a ninja with a longer beard. He had a Sherlock Holmes trench coat with a ski mask hat. He popped up from his seat and teleported to my side.

When he saw me, he frowned. "Sorry. Thought you were someone else."

My breaths froze.

"You just look...familiar," he said.

I tried to nod. Or move. Or run or something. It was like I'd come face to face with Medusa. I was as stone as the fountain.

The man straightened his spine. His neck cracked. "Well, uh, listen kid. See no evil, hear no evil. Unless you buy what I'm selling."

"What do you sell?"

"Nice try, Kid." I recognized the huffs of breath, although it made him smell like a dumpster. "Go on, get out of here."

I didn't move. The confusion made me nauseous.

He looked at me like a pawn on a chessboard. "You shouldn't be hanging around here. You could get hurt."

I don't know how, but I was going to react. I was going to say something. This was my broken fountain, not his.

That's when my eyes came into focus on the person crossing the street. My heart did a little Fortnite dance as her features became more distinct. Every hair made a strict line towards the back of her head, but her ponytail bounced like a spring. I leaned forward. Dark lenses stood in the way of her eyes. Sunglasses? Julia wearing sunglasses?