Read So Totally for Free Online

video games in front of a television comforted me a lot—this, I was used to. Some things hadn’t changed. I bet Kevin would die if he saw Halo .
    The room was set up like a mini-apartment. A little kitchenette to the right of the door didn’t appear to have more than a small fridge and microwave (which was huge, I mean huge ). The rest of the room was living room. It felt very grown-up. Not like my room at home. I still had all my stuffed animals on my bed and crayon marks on my dresser.
    “There’s Coke in the fridge,” Nate yelled over his shoulder.
    Yes, caffeine . “Want one, Paul?” I was already pulling one out for myself.
    He shook his head and took a seat behind the hulking computer. “I hate New Coke. It tastes like crap.”
    “New Coke?” Sure enough, the label on the can claimed it was new and improved. I took a sip. “Oh yuck.”
    “I like it,” Nate said.
    “It’s too sweet.” I shuddered.
    “Nate stocked up on it,” Paul said.
    “Why?”
    He sent me a look that said Carrington=Alien. “In case they stop making it.”
    “Oh.” That couldn’t be right. I drank Coke all the time.
    “They went back to the old formula.”
    The computer was taking forever to boot up.
    “Old formula?”
    Paul looked at me weirdly again. Notice I hadn’t mentioned his Adam’s apple? I was totally getting over that.
    He pushed his glasses up his nose. “Were you out of the country last year? Everybody in the world, except for Nate, hated the new stuff…so they went back to the old and are calling it ‘Classic.’”
    Weird. Who knew that even cola led such a complicated life?
    Paul picked up the phone and placed it on some kind of modem or something on the desk. Great. Dial-up. I pulled up a chair next to him; this was going to take a while.
    Nate and Kevin joined us around the desk.
    “So, are you changing her grades?” Nate asked.
    Paul shook his head. “We’re enrolling her.”
    Nate had leaned over me a little to look at the screen. He bent his neck to ask me, “Why?”
    Our faces were very close and I was caged in by one of his arms. I prayed to God for a non-booger day. “Long story.”
    “First, Middle, Last,” Paul asked.
    “Carrington Krystal Morris.”
    Nate, so close I could feel his breath in my ear, said, “Like Dynasty ?”
    “Coincidence,” I blurted. Mom had named me after her favorite character on Dynasty . For those of you whose parents are not stuck in the ‘80s or addicted to soap channels on cable— Dynasty was about a rich family who defy explanation. Lots of catfights and intrigue. Krystal Carrington was the main character, but Mom thought it would be too weird to name me exactly after her.
    Reversing the order made perfect sense.
    “Date of birth.”
    “October 05, 199—I mean,” Crap. I detest math. “1970.” That was close.
    “What kind of transcripts do you want?”
    “Let’s just do B ’s straight across.” The key was not to draw too much attention to myself—but if I ended up stuck here, I had college to think about. B ’s were solid.
    We filled out the rest of the database, and Paul was just finishing when I nonchalantly threw out, “So…what do you guys know about time travel?”
    “Yes! I knew it!” Kevin shot up from his chair and pointed to Paul. “You owe me twenty bucks.”
    Nate and I exchanged confused glances.
    “Paul guessed alien, but I said time traveler.”
    Nate unfolded himself from the chair. “What are you talking about?”
    “We knew it was something. She’s not like the other girls.” To me, he added, “Future, right?”
    “You think I’m from the future?” Did I stick out that much?
    He had the sense to blush a little. “Well, Paul thought you were a hot alien.” As if that were a good argument.
    Crap. Crap. Crap. “I need to go.”
    Nate grabbed my arm. “I don’t think so.” He led me back to the love seat. “What the hell is going on?”
    As I lowered, I said, “I’m in the Witness Protection