Slowly, the devastating reality sets in—I’m completely and utterly screwed. If this school is truly a time machine, I have no idea where to even begin looking for the control panels.
Only after the last students vanish around the corner do I step out of the shadows. This time, I don’t even bother trying to hide. Like before, everyone notices me, but no one engages. They seem to forget about me immediately, as if I slip from their minds like water off a duck’s back.
Time still keeps shifting at every turn, but now the jumps are smaller, confined within the span of my school years.
It is quite a surreal experience, wandering through your own past. It’s striking how different people are when they think they’re unobserved. Teachers, in particular, seem far more relaxed when they’re not in the classroom—chatting, joking, and laughing with each other in good-natured banter. Inexplicably, Perkins turns out to be the funniest of them all, which is weird in a very unsettling way.
Williams is everywhere, speaking to teachers and guards with far more authority than I ever imagined possible. I'm desperate to know what he's saying to them, but when I try to eavesdrop on his conversation with Miss Bleach, he suddenly turns and looks me straight in the eye. Not like the others, who only half acknowledge my presence—he really sees me. I hold my breath, convinced he'll expose me, but instead, he gives a small smile and says, louder than necessary, “Let’s take a walk, Miss. The walls have ears.” Miss Bleach looks surprised but doesn’t object. I’m left bewildered. What’s his role? Why is he the only one who can see me?
Meanwhile, I keep hopscotching through time, undisturbed and unnoticed, observing others as they live their lives. I know it's wrong in so many ways, but I just can’t resist the temptation. I even witness spoiled-rich-kid James making a pass at the equally spoiled-rich-girl Jessica. In stark contrast to his usual braggadocio, he appears embarrassingly insecure—and for good reason. Jessica gives him a cold, merciless look before turning away, parading off with her ponytail performing a ferocious victory dance atop her head, rejoining a pack of girls, with equally fierce, dancing ponytails, moving like a Roman assault formation around the corner, leaving him behind in complete disarray. I might have felt sorry for him if he weren’t such a complete and utter asshole. His daddy can’t help him now. Good character-building.
Remarkably often, I see Slug, but he resembles in nothing the slow-moving boy I thought I knew so well. Fast and smoothly, he navigates his way through the crowded corridors with surprising speed, and he would arrive everywhere in no time if it weren’t distracted every few meters by something ordinary eyes don’t notice, mostly little insects: spiders, beetles, caterpillars, ants, flies—a complete universe of minuscule, living, crawling creatures.
In contrast to Slug, Shadow rarely shows herself. I only catch fleeting glimpses, and during her first week, I don't see her at all. It must have been an incredibly lonely and unhappy time for her.
The first time I see Gnat, he’s completely hidden by a group of cheering and shouting students, tossing his schoolbag far beyond his reach. With some effort, I push my way to the front, and when I finally see him, my heart skips a beat. He looks demoralized and defeated, which only fuels the group’s euphoria and malicious delight. He’s staring at the ground, tears in his eyes. Gnat? Crying? No sharp remarks? No cursing? This isn’t the Gnat I know. I want my Gnat back. My Gnat would fight back, give them hell, and then… it happens after all. One of the students presses the wrong button.
“Your daddy can’t help you here, can he? They put daddy behind bars, where he belongs,” shouts a girl. At that exact moment, I see something shift in his eyes. He straightens his back, takes a deep breath, lifts his head, and, with a surprisingly well-timed movement, snatches his backpack out of the air. Then he starts cursing—softly at first, but gradually louder and louder until the swear words flow out of him in a constant stream.
This is the moment when Gnat transforms into the Gnat I know. The moment he decides that he will never be bullied again, no matter the consequences. I hear the soft crackle of electricity and see sparks flying, though only I know that’s real.
Stunned, the students around him fall silent. They stare with wide-open eyes at the small boy who, by now, has not only exhausted every curse word he knew but also the ones he improvised on the spot. With heaving breaths and fire-spitting eyes, he glares at them all with total contempt, daring anyone to challenge him. For a moment, the silence is almost tangible. Then a roar builds, slowly rising to a deafening, jubilant cheer, as if they’ve just witnessed an unexpected natural phenomenon.
“WHOOOOOOAAAAAAAA!!!”
“Little puppy is fighting back,” shouts a girl excited.
“Our baby has grown teeth,” a booming voice adds laughing. And, although the group still doesn’t look too impressed, the jokes miss their earlier venom. One thing is sure. Gnat will not be bullied again, ever.
A few last jokes follow him inside, but when the door of the English classroom closes behind him with a loud bang, the group falls apart. I know that only minutes from now, he will be rolling over the ground, fighting... with me.
Suddenly, I feel filthy. This was way too private, too personal—I wasn’t supposed to see this. Damn it, Tinderstick, I scold myself. Get a grip! This is not the time to dwell on the ethics of privacy. I need to save myself. But since I still have no clue how to get back to my own time, the only thing I can do is keep wandering through the corridors, skipping in tiny jumps through time with every turn.
More than I care to, I see myself—an angry, irritable, and unlikable person who seems to push people away on purpose. It amazes me how vast the gap is between how I feel and how I appear. Inside, I feel insecure and vulnerable, but how would anyone know that when I behave so overtly antisocial? No one has any reason to be kind to me—none at all. I live a self-fulfilling prophecy, and it's not a pleasant one. A potent mixture of gratitude and shame washes over me when I think of Gnat, Slug, and Shadow. Despite how obnoxiously I’ve treated them, they still consider me a friend. How is that even possible? If I get back... when I get back, I have to do better.
Deep in thought, I turn the next corner, and immediately, I sense that something is very wrong.