Chapter 11

Chris sat there, stunned, my words hanging in the air between us. The silence felt heavy, his slow, deliberate blinks the only movement as his eyes stayed locked on mine.

Then, out of nowhere, a quiet laugh escaped him, muffled by his hand as he tried to hold it in—aware of the crowded classroom around us. He leaned back in his chair, draping one arm casually over the backrest, a smirk forming on his lips.

"Is that really it?" he asked, his tone light, almost teasing, as if the reason I'd been crying was laughably trivial.

I bit the inside of my cheek, fighting the urge to snap back. How could he possibly understand? What am I supposed to do when I am stuck in the past—when my mom is my age and walking the same halls I me?

"You don't get it..." I muttered, barely above a whisper, my voice heavy with frustration. He'd never get it.

His smirk widened into something mischievous, his earlier concern vanishing completely. "Maybe I don't." He replied, leaning forward slightly, his eyes glinting with amusement.

I rolled my eyes, the fight draining out of me as quickly as it came. What was the point in being angry at him? He didn't understand, and honestly, why would he? Who would believe me anyway? To everyone else, I was just another girl with a sad story—a loner, practically an orphan. Or that's just what they assume without actually saying it.

"Perhaps you could explain it?" he pressed, leaning in closer now, his face inches from mine. His tone was playful, but his proximity made my heart race in ways I didn't want to acknowledge.

"Whatever. Forget it!" I snapped, pulling back abruptly and turning my face away from him.

For a fleeting moment, something flickered in his eyes—a softness, almost like... concern once again. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that familiar smirk as he straightened in his chair.

"You're no fun, princess." He said, his voice low and teasing.

Princess. That constantly nickname made my stomach twist. It was like he was mocking me everytime he used it, though I couldn't tell if it was annoyance or something else entirely.

I let out a sharp breath and turned away fully, opening my notebook with more force than necessary. There was no use arguing with him. No one could help me, and there was no way out of this mess.

I pressed my pen to the paper, my hand shaking slightly as I tried to focus on the words before me. Maybe it was time to stop fighting and let fate decide what happened to me.

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After class, I find myself trailing behind Jake as we walk to his house together. I keep my distance, just a few steps back, not wanting to get too close. I didn't really have a choice—I promised his mom I'd come back.

But my thoughts are stuck on what the principal said to me, playing on repeat in my mind. How could I possibly arrange a meeting with my parents when they aren't even my parents yet? I haven't even met my dad in the past...

The crunch of my shoes dragging across the rocky path blends into the chaos of my thoughts. What was I supposed to do? Should I just stop going to school altogether? Maybe the principal would forget about it if I disappeared...

"Damn you, Chris..." I mutter under my breath, clenching my teeth in frustration. None of this would have happened if it weren't for him. He was the one who challenged me, and of course, I had to rise to the occasion. Why did I have to be so competitive? So sure of myself?

My stomach churns as the memory of Mr. Johnson's furious face comes back to me—his eye swollen with that glaring red bump. All because of me.

Lost in my thoughts, I barely register Jake's voice cutting through the air.

"Hurry up, or you'll be left behind."

I snap out of it, just as I accidentally walk straight into his back.

"Ow..." I groan, rubbing my forehead where it collided with him.

When I look up, Jake is standing still, staring down at me with a dark, unreadable glare. His eyes are sharp, irritated, but there's something else there too—something that makes my chest tighten.

I cross my arms and look away with a stubborn sulk. "What's it to you?"

He doesn't answer right away. Instead, he just keeps staring down at me, his expression a mix of confusion and annoyance, as if he's trying to figure out what to do with me. Finally, he turns back around and starts walking up ahead again, his voice cold and sharp.

"My mom has chosen to care for you and for the life of me, I can't figure out what the hell she was thinking." His words hit like a slap, his tone dripping with irritation. "I'm only walking with you because of her."

I frown, pouting slightly at his words, but I can't argue. It makes sense. He's just doing this for his mom. Turns out he'd do anything for her, huh?

I quicken my pace to catch up, now walking beside him instead of behind. My heart still feels heavy, the weight of my situation pressing down on me. Jake glances down at me for a moment—just a brief flicker of something that almost looks like concern.

But I quickly brush the thought away. Who am I kidding? He doesn't care. Especially not about me.

I drop my gaze to the ground, watching my feet scrape across the rocky path. My mind is still searching for a way out of this mess, desperate for some kind of plan. But no matter how hard I think, nothing comes.

I'm completely screwed.

As soon as I step into Jake's house, Eslie rushes toward us like a whirlwind.

"You're back!" she beams, her face lighting up with excitement as she looks up at me.

I nod, patting her head gently like she's a little puppy. "Yeah..."

Without hesitation, she grabs my hand, her energy practically pulling me forward.

"Come on! My dad's back from his business trip!" she exclaims, her excitement radiating. She pushes me past Jake, who barely spares us a glance, looking as indifferent as ever.

"Look at the pretty thing my dad brought back!" Eslie continues, basically bouncing. "You have to see it!"

"Okay, okay..." I mumble as she drags me down the hall, her grip firm. "Let's slow down a bit..."

She turns a corner abruptly and releases my hand. "See! Look!"

I follow her finger as she points toward the wall, her enthusiasm making me chuckle softly. She's absolutely beaming, her joy contagious.

But when my eyes land on the object she's pointing to, my smile fades instantly, replaced by a sharp intake of breath. My stomach twists.

That...

Eslie notices my sudden change in expression and tugs on my sleeve, tilting her head in concern. "Is something wrong?"

I stare at her, words failing me for a moment as I can't hide the bewildered expression on my face. "That... clock..."

I turn back to the wall, my heart racing. There's no mistaking it. That clock is identical to the one we have back home in the future—the very clock that brought me here in the first place. The very reason i'm even standing here, in this timeline.

Eslie frowns, clearly confused by my off putting reaction. "What about it? Isn't it pretty?"

My voice catches in my throat, my thoughts scrambling for an explanation. "It's just... it's just that..."

She looks up at me, her expression shifting into one of turmoil and slight hurt. "But what?"

I can't stop staring at the clock, my mind spinning. My chest feels tight, my pulse thundering in my ears. How is this possible? I didn't think more of these ugly clocks existed, and yet here it is—right here in Jake's house, decades in the past. Just seeing that very same clock again is making me feel uneasy.

I take a shaky breath, still not breaking my gaze. "It's just that... I have the same one back home..."

Eslie's eyes suddenly light up with excitement. "Really?—"

"That's impossible." a sharp voice cuts through the air, echoing in the room.

I whirl around to see a tall man in a sleek suit standing in the doorway. He looks so much like Jake it's unsettling—same dark hair, same piercing glare.

"The lab only developed this clock today." he says, his tone calm but stern.

Eslie turns to him, wide-eyed. "Daddy?" She hesitates, then clings to his arm with a bright smile while looking at me. "Oh yeah! Daddy's a scientist!"

My eyes widen slightly, my mind reeling. "A scientist...?"

The man glances down at Eslie, his expression softening. "Oh, honey..." He chuckles lightly, a smile tugging at his lips. "I told you. Daddy just runs experiments, that's all."

Eslie pouts, clinging tighter to his arm. "Saying you're a scientist is way cooler!"

I glance back at the clock, my confusion deepening. This doesn't make sense. Could my mom have bought one of these later on in life when they did develop more? Did they mass-produce them? Did she perhaps win this same clock in an auction? My head feels like it's going to explode.

"I'm Mr. Lee." The man suddenly says, now standing in front of me with his hand extended for a handshake. His smile is warm and friendly, a stark contrast to the intimidating presence he had just moments ago. "I hear you go to school with my son."

I nod hesitantly, forcing myself to take his hand. "N-nice to meet you..."

His grip is firm but not overbearing, and for some reason, his kindness catches me off guard. Maybe I was just intimidated by how abruptly he appeared with that deep voice & dark aura exactly like Jake's.

"We'll talk more later." He says with a nod, releasing my hand. "For now, make yourself at home. I'll help my wife in the kitchen."

I'm taken aback by his kindness for some reason but I smile back. "Y-yeah...thanks."

He nods once and with that, he turns and walks away, disappearing into the other room. I let out a long breath I didn't realize I was holding.

"Hey, Juno!" Eslie calls, breaking me out of my thoughts. She bounces over to me, her eyes bright. "Do you want to help me with my homework?"

I take a step back, unsure how to respond. "Oh... uh..."

"Please?" She looks up at me with wide, pleading eyes, the kind that make it impossible to say no.

I sigh, trying to think of an excuse. "I'm... not really that smart..."

She pouts, grabbing my shirt now. "Come on! It's easy stuff!"

I raise an eyebrow at her. "If it's so easy, why do you need help?"

She paused for a moment at my words and then grips her hands on my shirt tighter. "Because it's hard for a ten-year-old like me!" She whines dramatically.

I sigh again, giving in. "Alright, fine. Let's see it."

It doesn't hurt to see what her homework looks like first.

Eslie's face lights up, and she runs off to grab her homework. I watch her go, shaking my head. What did I get myself into? Helping a ten-year-old with her schoolwork... in the past?

But the thought lingers. It's strange to think that in my time, she's way older than me. I can't even imagine it. The idea alone feels impossible.

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I help Eslie with her homework, and though I was nervous, I quickly realize there's no reason to be. It's as easy as she said. I'm just not the best when it comes to schoolwork at my age.

"See? We get this answer because you subtracted the 5." I explain, going over some of her responses.

Her eyes light up. "Ohhh! So that's it..."

I can't help but giggle at her realization. She seems so much more confident now that she understands what she's doing.

"Juno?"

I look up to find Mrs. Lee peeking around the corner.

I glance back at Eslie, pointing to a few remaining questions. "Here, show me your answers for these. I'll be right back."

Eslie nods eagerly, grabbing her pencil. "Okay!"

I step away and meet Mrs. Lee behind the corner. "Is everything okay?"

She looks at me with deep sympathy, her eyebrows furrowing. Her expression isn't even trying to hide the sorrow she feels. She stares at me for a moment as if preparing to mourn some great loss with me.

"Mrs. Lee—"

"Jake told me." She interrupts, pulling me into a hug. I notice her eyes are already teary before she wraps her arms around me.

I'm left completely stunned, my mind a whirlwind of confusion. "Huh?"

She pulls back, wiping her tears. "I'll go to your school as your guardian."

I'm speechless. The words hit me so suddenly, I don't know how to respond. My shock is written all over my face, and I'm even more confused that Jake, of all people, was the one who mentioned it. I didn't think he was paying attention to anything Chris & I said earlier...

"You... don't have to..." I manage to say, but she immediately shakes her head.

"No." She says firmly. "It's final."

It seems she's not taking no for an answer. I can't help but smile softly at her overwhelming kindness. "Then... thank you."

She gently rubs my shoulders, her eyes still filled with the same sympathy. "Don't worry about it, dear."

I'm still in disbelief over how kind she's being. It feels surreal, like I should question it, but she looks at me so earnestly, like she genuinely wants to help.

She sighs softly, offering one last comforting smile. "Just know that you can always come to me for anything."

I nod, unable to say anything more. If I do, I'm afraid my voice will break, and I might just start crying for no reason at all. I need to... find Jake. Why would he do this for me? He doesn't know anything about why I was so upset with my parents coming to school. But he didn't hesitate. He told his mom without a second thought.

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After finishing up with Eslie's homework, I find Jake on the balcony. Through the glass window, I can see him playing his guitar. The door's shut, so I can't hear the sound, but I watch as he pauses every so often, scribbling notes on a sheet of paper in front of him. I take a deep breath and approach the door.

I slide it open slowly, and immediately, he stops playing. But he doesn't turn around. "What do you want?" His voice is as sharp and distant as usual.

I freeze, my eyes widening. "How did you know it was me?!"

I'm certain he wouldn't speak that way to anyone else, especially not his family.

He sighs, sets his guitar down, and reaches for his water bottle, twisting the cap off. "You'd be surprised how much you can see  through that mirror."

His words catch me off guard, and my gaze shifts to the large mirror across from him. It reflects the full view of the door. The full view of me walking in. I feel like an idiot for not noticing it sooner.

I let out a slow breath and walk in, sitting down on the chair next to him. "I wanted to talk to you."

He rolls his eyes and puts the water bottle down, focusing again on his guitar. His fingers hover over the strings as he speaks in a tone that makes it clear he's already done with this conversation. "Say what you need to say in three seconds or get lost."

A slight pout tugs at my lips. He's still as cold as ever. But... something's different now. I think back to our conversation last night, when he opened up to me. I'm starting to see things from his side, to understand why he acts the way he does. I shouldn't be quick to judge his attitude.

"I just—"

"One. Two. Three. Time's up." His voice is almost mocking.

Or maybe I don't need to understand him at all. I groan, frustration bubbling inside me. "That was not three seconds!"

He glances up at me, his gaze sharp and unyielding with a slight grin. "Too bad."

His dismissive behaviour is driving me crazy. Why can't he just listen to me for once? "Why are you such a difficult person!" The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them.

His eyes widen just a fraction while he looks down. For the briefest moment, I see something in his expression—like I've stirred up some old memory. He sets his guitar down and glares over at me, his face hardening again.

I instantly regret what I've said. I feel a knot in my stomach due to guilt. "I'm... I'm sorry—"

"What do you want to say?" He interrupts, his tone unchanged, but his gaze is fixed on me, now more intense than before.

Something in the way he's looking at me makes my heart race. It's not like before. I wasn't expecting his full attention, and now it's making me anxious. I take a shallow breath. "I just..."

His eyes narrow, impatience creeping in. "Spit it out or get lost."

I let out a resigned sigh. No more stalling. I sit up straighter, looking him in the eye with as much confidence as I can muster. "Why did you tell your mom about my situation?"

The question hangs in the air, and my nerves spike. I quickly glance down, trying to steady myself. But when I look back up, his gaze is unbroken, sharp as ever.

He's silent for a long moment, and the quiet gnaws at me. I can feel my body tense, as if I'm about to hold my breath forever. Finally, he speaks.

"Because you looked too pathetic for your own good."

His words hit me like a mocking slap. My face falls, turning sour instantly as frustration bubbles to the surface. "Hey!" I huff, playfully tapping his shoulder with my fist. I should have known I wouldn't get a proper sentimental answer out of him.

He chuckles, the sound unexpectedly warm. It's a low laugh, but there's a lightness in it, something I've never heard from him before. The heavy, dark aura around him seems to lift just for a second.

He glances back at his guitar, getting back into position while still chuckling. "You're the one who asked a dumb question."

I'm left momentarily speechless. I'm not used to seeing him so relaxed, so... almost happy. I watch his face, still processing, then brush a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "Then can I ask you something else?"

He looks back at me, his grin fading into a puzzled frown. His eyes meet mine, still sleepy and indifferent, but now there's a subtle shift in his expression. The slight breeze blows through his hair, moving it away from his eyes and he stares at me, waiting for my question. His silence feels like an invitation, and my nerves kick up again.

I bite my lip and lean in a little, studying his features before speaking.

"Do you smoke?"

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