The Burned Rogue Book

The Burned Rogue Book

Ale Gonzalez

Chapter One: Atlas

My story is true. My name is Jennabel. Perhaps I should have started with that. So if my story is true, why am I telling you my name? Would it be more dangerous? The answer is no. That is my mortal name. That’s all that matters.

Now. I’d start the story in the middle of the action, but…that is not how stories are told. That is not how life happens. It goes from beginning to end, straight, with no stopping. It is just one long sequence of events that leaves you breathless when you finish. We’re starting with the imperative beginning.

So listen. If you are one of us, you know where to go. If you are not, go ahead and keep reading. You are all the lucky ones.

It starts in high school. Junior year.

“Jennabel, come up to the board and derive the equation.” Mr. Kreusch.

Physics, of course. Mass, gravity, centripetal forces, tangential forces…all that good stuff. You know, the cryptic lovechild of numbers and Greek. To be honest, I wasn’t good at physics. I just faked it and somehow got A’s on the tests. No cheating. True story.

Anyways, I got up to the board and saw this crazy equation with a free-body diagram next to it. I started with that. Sum the forces in the x direction. Sum the forces in the y. Easy so far. Weight equals mass times gravity. Something like that.

I started faking my way through the problem, writing stuff down that looked right. The only class I—excuse the term—bullshit my way through is this one. Everything else, I’m golden. I just hoped Mr. Kreusch, wouldn’t notice.

And then, by some beautiful divine intervention—there it was. An angel of mercy. At least, for the moment.

“Excuse me, Mr. Kreusch, can I speak to you for a moment?” A lady from outside the class.

“Sure. Excuse me for one moment, guys.” Kreusch left the class to go talk to the lady, and I beckoned to my best friend, Sam (Samantha) Martin.

“Sam!” I hissed. She stood up, rushed to the board, and erased a bit of my equation. She wrote in my handwriting the rest of the derivation and walked back to her seat just as Mr. Kreusch was walking back in.

“Very well, Jennabel. You get it?” he smiled. He was the kind of teacher that made me want to know physics, to uncover its secrets. Unfortunately, that’s not how my brain functions.

“Uh, yeah. Here,” I said, and I stepped aside so people could see. There was soft laughter from the back of the class and I had to suppress a smile of my own.

“Awesome. You can go back to your seat.”

I nodded, and as I was walking back, I noticed a guy near the entrance of the classroom. Mr. Kreusch went over to him and started speaking softly to him. I had never seen him before, and I got excited. New kid. Fresh bait.

He was tall and well built, with dark curly hair.

I looked to Sam, who also seemed to be checking him out. We made eye contact and I raised my eyebrows. She blushed, and I just shook my head, holding back laughter.

“Alright, guys,” Mr. Kreusch said. “New student. Atlas Zimmermann. Be nice. Atlas, if you have any questions, go ahead and ask.”

I raised my eyebrows. Atlas Zimmermann? What a name.

He walked quietly to the only open desk, one in the second to last row. Alas, not near Sam or me. Pity.

We continued on with the lesson in centripetal force without further interruption. He was quiet, as most new kids are, and, to be honest, I almost forgot he was there.