Capsule

by Mel Torrefranca

  She’d thought about finding Peter and Kat to clarify whether they knew about Capsule or not, but she’d figured it would be a smarter use of her thirty-four minute lunch break to investigate book club on her own. Why? Well—first, she had no clue where they were, and finding them in a sea of nearly three thousand high schoolers dispersed throughout campus would be nearly impossible. Second, she’d spent the entirety of world history class drowning in her own curiosity of what this level entailed and couldn’t wait any longer to find out. What would she have to face? A monster? An obstacle course?

  Jackie pressed the phone tighter against her ear, Jay’s voice interrupting a long ring.

  “Is everything okay?” Jay answered the phone with an unnatural urgency, which Jackie couldn’t blame him for. It wasn’t a normal occurrence for her to call her brother during school, or at all, for that matter.

  Jackie escaped through the exit of the history building and squinted under the beaming sun. Luckily the outdoor hall wasn’t too crowded as most students spent lunch inside classrooms or at the school cafeteria scrolling through their social media feeds.

  “I’m fine.” Jackie walked along the side of the brick history building, which was honestly more paper than brick, ripped posters and cheesy quotes covering nearly every inch of the wall. She searched the collage for a club list. Surely there had to be one paper hidden among the mess that held information as to where book club was located. “By—uh—by any chance, do you remember Kat disappearing?”

  Doesn’t hurt to ask.

  “Kat? Like, Kat Pike?” Jay paused, and Jackie could hear the distant slamming of basketballs from his end of the line. He was in the school gym. Of course. “Well, what do you mean? Did something happen to her?”

  Jackie stopped at the side of the English building, a grin entering her face at the absurdity of it all. Even her brother, who’d been broken down senseless after Peter and Kat’s disappearance, didn’t remember a hint of it. As though the moment were timed perfectly—as though it were fate—a tangerine paper labeled Book Club called to her from its hiding spot half-tucked behind an advertisement for the yearbook.

  “Jackie?” Jay asked. “Is Kat okay?”

  “Guess it’s just a rumor. Bye.” Jackie ended the call and slipped the phone into her back pocket. The flyer stated that book club took place at Room 43.

  Jackie headed further down the concrete walkway until she met the language wing, which was identical to the other buildings besides a wooden plaque over the entrance labeled Language. She pressed her hands against the door, entered the hall, and approached Room 43.

  Standing at the classroom door, her arm refused to reach for the handle. Most clubs at Brookwood met during lunch, so it wouldn’t be a stretch to assume they had a meeting today, and the last thing she wanted to do was walk in on a group of nerds in the middle of a reading session.

  “Are you going inside or not?”

  Jackie turned around to face Peter Moon. For a moment his eyes widened, perhaps realizing she was the same girl who had called his name in the hall earlier this morning. He had a book in his right hand and a face frozen in time, so unnaturally stiff Jackie decided the unapproachable person he presented himself to be was completely intentional.

  “We’re in book club together.”

  That’s what the short-haired girl had told Jackie four days after Peter and Kat had disappeared. April 6th, 2021.

  The game had brought Jackie to the exact location Peter was heading to, a coincidence that meant one of two things—either Capsule had intended for them to work together, or Peter really did know something about the game.

  Jackie pulled the phone out of her back pocket, opened Capsule, and held the screen toward him. “Does this look familiar to you?”

  Peter leaned forward. “What am I looking at here?”

  “This app.” Jackie pointed to the first block of text, where Peter’s and Kat’s names were mentioned. “You’re in it.”

  He raised his chin to reveal a half-sincere grin. “And you made this?”

  He can see it!

  Jackie shook her phone. “How would I make this?”

  “Well you’re on your phone in class all the time, so I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve dipped your toes in app development.” Peter read the first line of text aloud. “The subjects Peter Moon and Kat Pike will meet their demise at the end of the countdown. Oh, so it threatens our lives too? Creative concept, I applaud you for that.”

  “Bro, can you just listen for a sec?” Jackie pushed her phone screen closer to him. “I’ve searched all over the internet, and this Capsule app doesn’t exist.”

  Peter glanced at the door handle behind her. “Look, as much as your app intrigues me, I think it’d be better if you leave me alone. I’m not really in the mood for playing some silly RPG game with you.”

  “Wasn’t asking you to.”

  “Then I’m not writing your history research paper.” He gestured for Jackie to step aside from the door to Room 43, but she stood planted. “And if that’s not it either, I think I know the real reason why you won’t leave me alone today.”

  “You do?” Jackie lowered her phone.

  “Yeah, and I’m flattered, but I’m not ready for a relationship right now.” He reached for the doorknob, and this time, Jackie stepped aside. “I get it—shy girls have a thing for guys like me. You know, slightly above average in the looks department. Overly critical, cold, and hard to win over—but also really intelligent. Hence the book in my hand and the fact that I’m standing at Room 43.”

  “It’s kind of weird that you’d assume—”

  “So what’s this really about then?” He opened the door a crack, lowering his voice at the sight of a cluster of students. “Actually, no. Don’t answer that. I’m leading the discussion today, and I’d like to live out my full glory in discussing the morals behind Lou’s betrayal, so I’d rather you try that weird timer threat on someone else.” Peter swung the door open completely and disappeared into Room 43.

  The wind ruffled Jackie’s hair as the door slammed shut in front of her. Does he know about the game or not? If he did, he certainly wasn’t taking it seriously enough. Jackie’s fingers met the door’s cold handle. You got this. Just go inside. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It’s just a game.

  Detaching herself from reality did the trick. Jackie entered the room, opening her eyes to meet a circle of students. Their heads jolted in her direction.

  The desks had been pushed out toward the edge of the room, forming an empty space in the center for a circle of chairs. Students sat facing each other, identical books in hand. Jackie recognized the short-haired girl who she’d seen rubbing the notes off Peter’s locker. The girl glanced at Peter for a brief moment, a grin smacking her face as she looked away.

  The club advisor spoke with a voice made of soft cream. “Hi, do we have a new face today?”

  But what really attracted Jackie’s attention was inside the circle.

  Jackie turned to Peter, who had stopped halfway to the group of chairs, his jaw too heavy for him to close. He swung his backpack off his shoulders and dropped it onto a pile of the other club members’ belongings.

  Hovering inside the circle of students was a giant aluminum capsule. The two-foot long object hovered a few feet above the carpet, but cast no shadow beneath it. The capsule was static, merely pasted within Jackie’s vision.

  “What the…” Peter stepped forward and pointed at the capsule. “What is that thing?”

  The other club members looked for what Peter was pointing at, but their eyes never landed on the same destination. Some gazed through the window while others stared at the students a few feet in front of Peter’s fingers, but none seemed to take notice of the capsule.

  “Is no one seeing this?” Peter’s voice was shakier than earlier, and it made Jackie smile.

/>   Karma.

  The short-haired girl closed the book in her hands, giving Peter her full attention. “Seeing what?”

  Jackie passed Peter at his right. She ignored the curious eyes in her direction and squeezed between two chairs.

  It’s just a game, she reminded herself. It’s just a game.

  “What are you doing?” Peter raised his voice. “Hey, don’t touch it. We don’t know if it…”

  Peter trailed off as Jackie’s hands met the mysterious object.

  The capsule wasn’t cold like Jackie had expected it to be. It lacked temperature. The air simply pressed back against Jackie’s palms. Her strange stance in the center of the circle and Peter’s unnatural dialogue left the students with raised brows, but Jackie didn’t care. She’d been knocked out of reality. Capsule had given her a controller, and now all she could do was play.

  Jackie tried to move the capsule from its place in the air, but it wouldn’t budge. Only after a few failed attempts did she notice a split running horizontally through the middle, right where the two colors of a gelatin capsule would meet. A crease. She wrapped one hand around the top, one around the bottom, and gave it a firm twist.

  The capsule popped open, slipping from her grip.

  LEVEL ONE

  PETER MOON WAS in bed, one of the many blankets tucked to his chin to keep him safe from the unknown air of night. The others melted off the sides of his mattress, threatening to completely slip away. His face was noticeably chubbier, and despite the chaos of blankets encasing him, something about the way he rested looked as though he were having a pleasant dream.

  A mess. Posters on the ceiling. Knick-knacks and gadgets he’d received as gifts taking up more space on the bookshelves than books themselves. Dirty clothes piled in heaps over the area rug, and his desk displayed a scattered art piece of unfinished math homework, a few droplets of coke, and a scarlet notebook he hadn’t bothered to write anything destructive in yet.

  Footsteps filled the hallway. The door swung open to reveal Nicholas Moon. He grinned at his now fifteen-year-old nephew before glancing over his shoulder and into the hallway behind him. Nicholas lowered his chin and whispered, “Ready?”

  Trailing behind Nicholas was Grace. She wrapped her arms around her uncle’s leg with a giggle, attempting to stop him from entering Peter’s room.

  Mr. Moon followed behind Nicholas and Grace, his hands wrapped around a Nikon DSLR, which he pointed at Peter’s bed. Mrs. Moon leaned over his shoulder, watching the viewfinder with an open-mouth smile.

  Nicholas flicked the lights on. The little parade marched deeper into Peter’s disorganized room.

  “Happy birthday to you,” they sang in unison. “Happy birthday to you!”

  Peter’s eyes snapped open. He grinned at the scene before pulling the sheets over his head. “Stop!”

  “Happy birthday to Peter.” The group laughed, and Grace jumped onto Peter’s bed to shout the final line. “Happy birthday to you!”

  “You ready for some pancakes?” Nicholas stepped closer to the curled figure of Peter.

  Peter flipped onto his side, wrapping the sheets tighter around himself. “Can Dad turn off the camera first?”

  “But it’s your birthday,” Mr. Moon said.

  “You haven’t been in one of our videos in months.” Mrs. Moon peeled the sheets from Peter’s grip, and he wailed as though she were ripping off his skin. “Oh, stop with the drama. People want an update on our boy.”

  Peter sat up, the sheets falling to reveal the Pikachu art on his maroon pajama shirt. He pouted at his uncle for support.

  “Oh Brother, just turn it off.” Nicholas nudged Mr. Moon in the arm. “The kid needs some time off the interwebs.”

  “Alright, Grandpa. We’ll be downstairs then.” Mr. Moon flicked off the camera and pointed at Peter before leaving the room. “Get ready. Your favorite breakfast is waiting for you.”

  Mrs. Moon gestured to the door. “Come on, Grace.”

  Grace whined as she hopped off the bed, and Nicholas waited until Mrs. Moon shut the door behind them before commencing his lecture. “Look at this place.” He gestured to the room with a half-joking, half-disappointed laugh. “What did I tell you about cleaning your room? Clean room, clean mind. Clean mind, clean soul.”

  It wasn’t often that Uncle Nicholas came to visit. He spent six month of every year in Korea visiting family or traveling for humanitarian projects, and during the time he spent in California he was usually busy with freelance photography work. Both Peter’s dad and Nicholas loved cameras, but unlike his brother, Nicholas didn’t feel the need to record everything. Photography was for work and work alone. The man knew his boundaries.

  Peter crossed his arms. “All they care about are their stupid YouTube videos.”

  “That’s not true.” Nicholas sat on the edge of Peter’s bed. “Everyone has a different way of storing memories. Think of your little sister. She’s kept every single Christmas card and school Valentine’s Day candy she’s received since kindergarten. Your great-grandfather would scrapbook everything. And my mom still loves daily journaling.”

  Peter’s frown loosened. “Then what do you do?”

  “Poetry.” He shrugged. “I’m a softie, what can I say?”

  “Well, I don’t do anything like that.” Peter uncrossed his arms and shook his head. “I’m not really sure how I store my memories.”

  “Well…” Nicholas lifted his chin to reveal his downturned lips and unusually wide eyes. “I’m guessing it’s not with video.”

  After a moment of processing his statement, Peter broke into laughter. Nicholas joined in, their humor uniting to dissolve the tension in the room.

  “I’m really not sure if they’re doing this for the memories though.” Peter grabbed his phone from the nightstand and pulled up his parents’ YouTube channel, his humor fading. Moon Monkeys. Over 12,000 subscribers. Peter scrolled to the most recent video titled Grace Moon’s First Piano Recital.

  “Last week they told us they wanted to get ice cream in celebration of my sister’s first recital, but the real reason we went was because they wanted to spend the next week scrolling through comments about how cute their daughter is. I’m not jealous of Grace or anything. They’d do the same to me if I allowed that camera near my face, but there’s something about this obsession with YouTube that gets on my nerves.”

  “Jeez kid. You’re only a freshman in high school. Hang on to your cheerful spirit as long as you can.” Nicholas leaned back and rested his shoulders on a pile of unevenly-layered blankets. “But I do see why that would bother you. Everything’s about sharing memories now. Creating moments for the sole purpose of hearing what others will think of them. But you can’t change that—it’s built into the system. The only thing you have control over is yourself.” He peeked at his analog watch and stood. “Let’s head down before those pancakes get cold.”

  Peter pried the blankets off his legs and slipped out of bed. “You’re really gonna wear that tie?”

  His uncle had a red and blue striped tie hanging from his neck. He was dressed better for a business meeting than a coffee date.

  “You’re trying too hard.”

  “You’re right.” Nicholas frowned at himself in Peter’s bedroom mirror, removed the tie, and frowned at himself some more. “I really am trying too hard.”

  Nicholas hadn’t had much luck in the dating department. Practically every week he went on a new date, and he never met with the same person twice. Sometimes a few would ghost him, and on a special day someone might clearly communicate their disinterest. The rest, however, which accounted for the majority, Nicholas would forget about by the time they’d text him the next day. And yet every time, he was nervous for the next date. Nervous he might meet the one.

  “Why do you try so hard if you always end up rejecting them anyway?” Peter crammed his
feet into a pair of fluffy slippers. “You know, if you keep searching for perfection, you’re never gonna find it.”

  “Maybe, but I do find it hard to believe a high school kid is giving me relationship advice.” Nicholas rolled up the tie and tucked it into his front pocket. “Why do you think I have a date?”

  “You told me that you only have dates on Saturdays.” Peter pointed at his uncle’s head. “And today’s Saturday. Plus you have gel in your hair.”

  “You’re quite the detective.” Nicholas opened the top few buttons of his white shirt and ran a hand through his hair, unsticking the stiff figure he’d molded the strands into. “But that’s not why I’m dressed up today. After breakfast I’m heading on a trip.”

  Peter dropped his arm. “Where to?”

  “Not sure yet. Planning to let the world guide me on this one.” Nicholas turned away from the mirror, and for a moment his face fell off-balance from its usual symmetrical figure, his right side drooping lower than the left. He set a hand on the doorknob. “Come on, let’s eat.”

  19:27:21

  “HOLY SHIT, WHAT’S wrong?”

  The smashing of basketballs drilled through Kat’s brain. She leaned forward, her head spinning, pressing her palms against the sweaty gym floor as though she could penetrate the polished wood.

  “Kat?” A warm hand met her shoulder. “Are you okay?”

  Kat boosted herself back to her feet, the unwelcome hand on her shoulder falling in the process. What was she supposed to say? That she remembered something she never remembered happening before? That she remembered something she wasn’t supposed to remember? Kat dusted the dirt off her blue mom jeans and readjusted the crooked glasses on her nose.

  Peter Moon. The boy she’d argued with in the hall this morning. The idiot who ran that stupid blog and tore students from Brookwood down as a twice-a-week hobby. Why did she know that his uncle’s name was Nicholas, or that his little sister’s name was Grace? Why did she know that his birthday was on April 2nd?