‘Is six p.m. an absolute deadline?’ Max wondered. ‘There’s no wiggle room?’
‘Yes!’ Mum and Dad snapped at once. ‘No wiggle room.’
‘I’m sure it was cerulean blue, he wanted,’ Mum said. ‘I’m sending it like this.’
‘I swear it was candy-apple red!’ Dad reached for the mouse. Mum slapped his hand away.
My heart began a low, slow hammer.
‘It was neither,’ I said quietly. ‘Your client wanted cherry pink.’
Mum and Dad were now wrestling each other for the mouse.
‘Cerulean blue!’
‘Candy-apple red!’
‘Cerulean blue!’
I placed my hands firmly on their shoulders.
‘Look at me,’ I said in a voice like a calm school principal. They looked at me. ‘It was cherry pink.’
They glanced at each other. They glanced at me.
Mum reached for the mouse. The scowling tiger turned pink.
The cursor flew across the screen. Email. Attachment. Send.
‘Six o’clock,’ my brother declared.
There was a long pause.
Ding, said Mum’s computer.
‘Confirmation,’ she said. ‘They got the order.’
She put her head down on the table.
Dad pulled out a chair and slumped into it. ‘And we’re sure it’s cherry pink?’ he asked me quietly.
Mum straightened up again. ‘This is the world premiere.’ She looked a bit dazed. ‘If the logo on the screen doesn’t match the logo on the program, I just …’ She turned her dazed expression on me. ‘Are you sure?’
I nodded.
My parents glanced at each other now, like, why did we just trust her?
Of course, I wasn’t sure at all. My heart was skidding around like my brother that time on new rollerblades.
I did know I’d heard Mum say that the client wanted cherry pink, right before they started arguing. I’d thought of my lip gloss when she said it.
But I’d heard it in a booth at the Time Travel Agency™.
And everybody knows the Time Travel Agency™ is a scam.
Sure, I’d been right about my brother’s essay and my sister’s locker key, but maybe those were wild coincidences? And if I had been wrong about those two things? No big deal. I’d only have lost some dignity.
Whereas, if I was wrong about this, my parents could lose their biggest client. Their reputation. Their business.
Dum-de-dum, I hummed to myself. I always hum when I’m nervous.
‘She’s humming,’ Mum said.
‘She hums when she’s nervous,’ Dad agreed.
‘What have we done?’ Mum whispered.
A telephone rang.
It was Dad’s. He pulled it out of his pocket and looked at the screen. ‘It’s him,’ he said. ‘Told you he was an early riser.’
We all watched as he put the phone to his ear.
‘Ely!’ he said. ‘Must be the middle of the night in New York!’
There was a pause. Dad nodded along.
‘Jetlag, right? It’s a killer … Yes, yes. You’re all set … Yep. We changed the logo colour just like you asked. Yep, to …’ He paused, looked around at us, gave a huge, terrified wince. ‘Cherry pink.’
There was a moment of intense suspense in which not a person in that kitchen breathed.
Then Dad’s face broke into a mighty grin. ‘You bet! And you were right! Cherry pink looks awesome!’
I sank down to the kitchen floor in relief.
‘You bet! Have a great trip home!’ Dad said. ‘Bye! Don’t call us! We’ll call you!’ And he shot the air with two imaginary cowboy guns.
We all cheered and applauded loudly. Then Dad checked that he’d actually hung up, and confirmed that he had, so we cheered again. They wanted to know how I’d known it was cherry pink and I just shrugged and said I’d overheard, which is true. So we ate our tacos, going over the whole thing many times, the way you do after a crisis has been averted.
Even Max joined in the celebrations and, after dinner was finished and the clearing up was done, he said quite happily, ‘Better go home now.’
My brother looked across at him.
‘Dude!’ Max said.
‘Dude,’ Sebastian echoed. Then a number of extremely complicated expressions crossed my brother’s face. My parents and I watched him. Despite Seb’s mild genius with schoolwork, he can be a little slow at life. But he usually gets there in the end.
‘I wonder,’ Sebastian said softly, ‘why you had my essay on your USB.’
‘Right?’ Max tried, stumbling a little as he grabbed his bag. ‘I wonder, too. Crazy!’
Sebastian gave him a long, hard look.
‘See myself out, then?’
My brother nodded. ‘You do that.’
We listened to Max’s steps in the hall. The front door opened and closed. Sebastian drummed his fingers on the benchtop thoughtfully.
None of us spoke. He straightened up his shoulders, raised his eyebrows at us, tried for a small smile, and left the room.
(That’s another family thing. We don’t always spell out the obvious.)
However, I would now like to conclude this competition entry by spelling out the obvious to you.
Remember I said that choosing me for the prize would be a win-win?
Here is how it’s a win for you.
You can publish this entry. (Please change the names though, to protect privacy.) I mean, look at it! It proves that time travel is real! This is just what you need to silence all the doubters! And make the Time Travel Agency™ legit!
The fact is, there is no question that I visited the past today. People say that there are two explanations for the ‘illusion’ of time travel that you guys offer. First, they say you use high-tech effects. But I changed my destination at the last minute! No way you could have rushed through the technology to reproduce my home and family within the half-second that I gave you!
And second, they say it’s all in the subconscious: that people are just imagining their time travel.
Well, with the greatest respect to my subconscious, it is just not that sharp! No way it could have reproduced, with pinpoint accuracy, the events that occurred around my home while I was in my bedroom kissing a boy!
Generally, I have an extremely scatty, dreamy, absent-minded subconscious! It collects absolutely no details. It’s probably not even listening right now! Which is why I can get away with insulting it like this.
So. The only explanation for the events I have outlined here is time travel.
Congratulations. To you and to Professor Raskdfjsa. (Shrug, she will say in reply.)
You have done it. You have invented time travel.
And this competition entry is the proof.
As for me and why I need to win?
Well, when we returned to school after the excursion today, Ms Watson said that, next week, we will have to do presentations on our journeys to the seventeenth century. For obvious reasons, I am not in a position to do such a presentation. Therefore, could I win the competition quite quickly please, and come back to the Time Travel Agency™ in the next couple of days so I can actually visit the seventeenth century and get my presentation sorted?
Sure, I could do some research and invent the whole thing. But would that be fair to my history class?
No.
And thus I bring this competition entry to a close. As promised, I have offered you a sound and noble reason with educational overtones. And I have taken considerable time to do it.
It is now 11.35 p.m. and I’ve been writing this since dinner. Mum and Dad are arguing in the stairway right now. I smile wisely, listening to them. Certain things, I think, cannot be changed. They simply are. This is the great, sad lesson I have learned today.
Farewell, my past. You, I cannot change.
Farewell, Noah Brackman and your voice.
I don’t know why he kissed me. Maybe he couldn’t figure out how to get
out of my room after we’d finished the chemistry assignment? And that seemed the only way?
Anyway, although I have learned a terrible lesson, and most likely will never trust anybody again, I’ll be okay! And it’s good news that my brother knows the truth about his false friend, and my sister has her locker key, and my parents did not lose their business!
They are shouting quite loudly outside my door right now, my parents. ‘But again!’ my mother is saying. ‘You did it again, that’s the thing. I keep telling you not to do it!’
‘I do it automatically!’ Dad said. ‘He knew it was a joke!’
‘You cannot say to our biggest client, Don’t call us! We’ll call you! Clients can call you! Anytime they want! That’s what you say to clients! Call us anytime!’
Ha.
That’s what they’re arguing about. The way Dad finished his phone call with the client and shot the air with the guns and so on. Well, what are you going to do? You can’t really blame Dad. It’s a family thing, like I said. We all do it to each other so often that sometimes we forget and do it to people outside the family. My friends at school have asked me to please not do it to them as they find it pretty weird and disconcerting. The point is, that —
Oh.
Do you know what I just —
The strangest thing just —
Okay, wait, I just —
I’m having trouble getting my head clear here.
But the strangest thing just happened. A memory came swooping across my brain. It was like a sheet flying off a clothesline in the wind and splashing over your face.
Here is the memory.
I am running down the stairs with Noah Brackman.
He has just kissed me.
We haven’t said anything to each other. Just smiled at each other.
He’s running late for work.
We stop at the door. I’m still smiling.
‘Well, bye,’ Noah says.
‘Don’t call us! We’ll call you!’ I say to Noah. And I shoot the air with cowboy guns.
Noah blinks.
He smiles again, nods slowly, then runs down my front steps.
Idiot, I think to myself, looking up at my hands in the air. And I go inside again, mortified about having played cowboys.
But I didn’t just shoot the air.
I also said to Noah, Don’t call us! We’ll call you.
How exactly did that sound to him?
No. I’m being ridiculous, right? Reaching for slivers of hope? Like, maybe he hasn’t spoken to me because I told him not to call me?
I’ve visited the scene of the kiss! I saw the way he acted! His eyes flew everywhere. He fidgeted. He wanted to get out of there!
Like I said before, he was never interested in the first place.
Unless.
Well, this sounds —
I mean, I was pretty nervous myself. That’s why I did the weird, ‘Don’t call us!’ shooting thing. I didn’t have a clue what to say to a boy who had just kissed me. I was all atremble.
What if Noah was nervous, too?
And now that I think back, those darting eyes and fidgeting hands, they could have been nerves? And the way he looks around thoughtfully all the time? He could be shy. He could be waiting for me to call him!
The reason he hasn’t spoken to me could be that he thinks I’M NOT INTERESTED IN HIM!
Wait.
Just wait here a moment.
Okay, I’m back.
I just sent a text to Noah. Hiya, when can I see you again?
I can’t believe I just did that.
I honestly cannot believe it.
I have just made myself ridiculous.
I blame you, Time Travel Agency™.
That is the most humiliating thing I have ever done. He is probably looking at it right now and shaking his head with contempt. He is deleting it. He is shuddering at the idea —
Hang on.
Okay. He just replied.
I’m going to look.
This is what he said: Thought you were never going to call. Tomorrow arvo? Coffee? xxx
I believe I may be crying.
Thank you, Time Travel Agency™. I will love you forever.
(But I still need to win the five (5) free journeys. Thanks.)
And that concludes my entry.
About the Authors
Danielle Binks is an editor, book blogger, literary agent, and youth literature advocate. The short story in a #LoveOzYA anthology is her first book publication, and marks her as an emerging voice in the Australian YA landscape.
Visit daniellebinks.com to find out more.
Amie Kaufman is the New York Times and internationally bestselling co-author of Illuminae and These Broken Stars. Her multiple award-winning books are slated for publication in over thirty countries, though none of them have made it to space yet. Amie did get to work as a storytelling consultant with NASA, though, which was as awesome as it sounds.
Visit amiekaufman.com to find out more.
Melissa Keil has lived in Minnesota, London and the Middle East, and now resides in her hometown of Melbourne. Her YA novels, Life in Outer Space and The Incredible Adventures of Cinnamon Girl have both been shortlisted for the CBCA Book of the Year and the Gold Inky awards.
Visit melissakeil.com to find out more.
Will Kostakis is the award-winning author of The First Third and The Sidekicks, but his real claims to fame are a Twitter spat with Guy Sebastian, and that time a member of Destiny’s Child said his name.
Visit willkostakis.com to find out more.
Ellie Marney is a teacher and author of the Every series (Every Breath, Every Word, Every Move), a highly-awarded YA crime trilogy. She advocates for and promotes Australian YA literature through #LoveOzYA, hosts an online book club — #LoveOzYA book club — and is a Stella Prize Schools Ambassador. She lives near Castlemaine, Victoria, with her partner and four sons.
Visit elliemarney.com to find out more.
Jaclyn Moriarty grew up in Sydney, lived in the US, the UK and Canada, and now lives in Sydney again. She is the prizewinning, best-selling author of the Ashbury-Brookfield books (including Feeling Sorry for Celia and Finding Cassie Crazy) and the Colours of Madeleine trilogy (A Corner of White, The Cracks in the Kingdom and A Tangle of Gold).
Visit jaclynmoriarty.com to find out more.
Michael Pryor has published more than thirty novels and fifty something short stories. He is one of the co-publishers of Aurealis, a premier Fantasy and SF magazine. He has been shortlisted for the Aurealis Award seven times, and seven of his books have been CBCA Notable books.
Visit michaelpryor.com.au to find out more.
Alice Pung is a Melbourne author whose award-winning books include Unpolished Gem, Her Father’s Daughter and Laurinda. She also wrote the Marly books for the Our Australian Girl series, and edited Growing Up Asian in Australia and My First Lesson.
Visit alicepung.com to find out more.
Gabrielle Tozer is the award-winning author of contemporary YA novels The Intern, Faking It and Remind Me How This Ends. Her first picture book, Peas and Quiet (illustrated by Sue deGennaro), hits shelves in 2017.
Visit gabrielletozer.com to find out more.
Lili Wilkinson is the award-winning author of ten YA novels, including Pink, Green Valentine and The Boundless Sublime. After studying Creative Arts at the University of Melbourne, Lili established the insideadog.com.au website, the Inky Awards and the Inkys Creative Reading Prize at the Centre for Youth Literature, State Library of Victoria. She has a PhD in Creative Writing, and lives in Melbourne with her husband, son, dog and three chickens.
Visit liliwilkinson.com.au to find out more.
Copyright
HarperCollinsPublishers
First published in Australia in 2017
by HarperCollinsPublishers Australia Pty Limited
ABN 36 009 913 517
harpercollins.com.au
Introduction Copyright © Danielle Binks 2017
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Last Night at the Mount Solemn Observatory Copyright © Danielle Binks 2017
One Small Step … Copyright © Amie Kaufman 2017
Sundays Copyright © Melissa Keil 2017
I Can See the Ending Copyright © Will Kostakis 2017
Missing Persons Copyright © Ellie Marney 2017
Competition Entry #349 Copyright © Jaclyn Moriarty 2017
First Casualty Copyright © Michael Pryor 2017
In a Heartbeat Copyright © Alice Pung 2017
The Feeling From Over Here Copyright © Gabrielle Tozer 2017
Oona Underground Copyright © Lili Wilkinson 2017
The rights of Danielle Binks, Amie Kaufman, Melissa Keil, Will Kostakis, Ellie Marney, Jaclyn Moriarty, Michael Pryor, Alice Pung, Gabrielle Tozer and Lili Wilkinson to be identified as the authors of this work have been asserted by them under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.
This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
HarperCollinsPublishers
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A CiP record is available from the National Library of Australia.
Cover and internal illustrations by Kate Pullen of The Letterettes
Begin End Begin: A #LoveOzYa Anthology Page 26