NINE TIME MACHINES: Do you want to undo your entire life on planet earth?

CHAPTER 28

Stocatta Embassy is on Lillian Street, right next to the exit that leads to the Cave Beach stretch. I continue on Florence Street and turn left down Granderson then stop by the high school. If I want, I can take any of two corners. Fleece Street, between the school and library, will put me above the embassy; but the next corner, Maxx Street, is dead in front of it. I decide to tackle my future head on. But just as I'm about to exit Maxx Street and ascend the embassy's seven wide steps I hang back in fear, my loose hair draping me like a nun's habit. What if I'm not what they want? What if I have the perfect qualifications but still don't qualify? Even worse, what if there's a hundred of me trying to apply for the same job? I make my mind go blank and climb with shaky feet.

Surprisingly, the room is smaller than expected with a tight space leading to the counter. There are hopefuls sitting to my right. All of them stare me down. But at least it's not like at the hospital where they seemed to want to shrug their diseases off on me. I creep my way to the counter. My peripheral vision captures the young man on the left but for some ungodly reason I focus directly on the girl.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, I want to know how to migrate to Stocatta."

"You can't migrate to Stocatta," she says in a callous tone and smirks.

It might have hurt less had a wasp stung me. Her words were loud enough to sail across the room. But they had the total opposite effect of Tessa's shampoo. I wonder if there's an opening for her job. Perhaps someone needs to remind her of what it feels like to be poor.

"Er, I'm just here asking for a friend." I smile nervously. "Do you have any brochures or something, so I can take the right information back? I wouldn't want to disappoint her."

She rummages through her desk disinterested. Moments later she hands me a few white pages.

"Thanks," I say uncomfortably and walk out. So much for going to Stocatta. Perhaps the website should've warned me that their guard dogs were hungry.

I descend the seven steps and stand on Lillian Street like a jilted lover in a barren land. What next? Where do I go from here? Do I head home and open The Third Trial like the past twenty-four hours never happened? Zero. But reading does sound like a plan for a nice sunny morning. And I know just the place. All I've got to do is return this horrible book and get another one. I check my purse to see if I have my library card. Yes, as always. Where else would it be? I left it at home, said no readaholic ever. But is this how my life is going to be forever and ever? When do I get to jump into the book and really start living? Oh, God! When! Inhale. Exhale. I want to live again.