The year was 2030, but the air in the hallways of St. Jude's High still smelled of the same floor wax and teenage anxiety that had defined schools.
The afternoon sun shine through the tall windows, casting long, orange shapes across the classroom.
Max sat on the edge of a dark wood desk. His black hair was messy, and he stared at a tiny bit of dust in the air.
He was daydreaming about being far away in a forest with silver trees.
The heavy thud of sneakers hitting the floor shattered his daydream.
"Hey, Max! Move it or lose it, man!"
Victor burst into the room like a physical manifestation of kinetic energy.
His blue eyes were bright with competitive fire, and his black hair was already damp with sweat. He looked every bit the star athlete he was destined to be.
"Let's go, play football!" Victor shouted, sliding to a halt in front of Max.
"The Northside team is already on the field. They're talking trash about us, Max. We have to beat them this time. I need my best winger."
Max looked up, his expression unreadable.
Max looked up. His face did not show how he felt, but he felt very bad inside.
Victor was more than just a friend on his team. They had played together since they were babies and told each other about their secrets. They were closer than brothers.
Victor's grin didn't just fade, it collapsed.
He dropped his sports bag, the heavy thud echoing in the empty classroom.
"You've got to be kidding me. Again? Max, it's been two weeks."
"I have urgent work at home," Max lied. The words felt like lead in his mouth.
"Urgent work?" Victor stepped closer, his brow furrowing.
"What work? Your mom called my mom yesterday asking if you were over at our place because you haven't been home until dinner. Don't give me that 'chores' crap. What is actually going on with you?"
"It's just family stuff, Victor. Private stuff."
"Wtf, Max!" Victor's voice rose, vibrating with a mix of anger and genuine hurt. "This began to happen every day.
You're avoiding the team. You're avoiding me. We're supposed to be a duo. Are you lying to me right now? Just tell me the truth. Is it because of that fight we had over the summer? Because I'm over it, man."
Max felt a lump form in his throat. Seeing Victor's blue eyes cloud over with doubt was worse than any physical injury. He jumped off the table, grabbing Victor's shoulder.
"No, Victor! I would not lie to you. You are my only best friend. You are the only one who understands me. Things are just hard right now. I promise."
Victor looked at Max's hand on his shoulder, then back at his friend's face. He wanted to believe him. He needed to. The silence stretched between them, heavy with the things Max wasn't saying.
"Fine," Victor said quietly and sadly. "But you must play next time. If you miss the big game, the coach will not let you play for a long time. And I will not be able to help you then."
"I know. I'll be there next time. I promise," Max said.
Victor did not say goodbye. He picked up his bag, looked at Max sadly one last time, and walked slowly out of the class room. Victor walked into the bright hallway and was gone. Max was left standing alone in the class room.
"Sorry, Victor," Max whispered to the empty air. "You wouldn't understand. No one does."
Max didn't go home. He didn't have "urgent work." Instead, he wound his way through the bustling city streets, avoiding the eyes of his classmates. He felt like a ghost haunting his own life.
Max did not go home. He did not really have work to do. He walked through the busy city and tried to hide from his school friends. He felt like he did not belong anywhere.
He stopped at a tiny shop called The Dusty Tome. It was a very old-fashioned place.
In the year 2030, most people read books using special glasses or computers in their brains. Max pushed the door open, and a bell made a rusty sound.
Max walked past the new books and the books about jobs. He went straight to the back of the store. The air there smelled like old paper.
He picked up a book with a gold dragon on the cover. It was a storybook about a magic world.
He held the book tight and took it to the front. The man working there was named Mr. Henderson. He was very old. He looked at Max and said, "Again, Max? You have been here three times this month. You are a smart boy. You go to a good school."
"I just like the story," Max said. He reached for his money.
"Stories are for kids and lazy people," Mr. Henderson said. He looked a little worried.
"You should read history books. Learn about the real world. Learn about the men who built this city. It will help you become a important person. A good person."
Max stayed quiet and waited. He did not say anything.
"History books help you get a good job and more money," the old man said. He pointed his finger.
"These stories about magic and monsters are silly. They will ruin your life. They fill your head with things that are not real. They make you too soft for the hard world."
Max did not care. He did not want a big job or lots of money. He paid for the book, grabbed it, and walked out while the old man was still talking.
Outside, the world felt gray and sad. Fast electric cars drove by. Bright signs showed things Max did not want to buy. Everyone was in a hurry, but Max did not feel like he belonged with them.
Max opened the first page of the book as he walked. "In the beginning, there was the Flame, and from the Flame, the First Mage drew the breath of life..."
His heart raced. This was where he belonged. Not in a classroom, not on a football field, but in a world where a magic could summon a storm and a sword could slay a monster.
He wished so hard that he could just step into the book and never return.
Max reached the corner of two busy streets. He was still reading his book. In the story, the hero was fighting a monster with a lion's head and a snake for a tail.
The monster roared and tried to bite. Its tail moved fast to hit him with poison.
"Max! Max, Wait!"
A voice called out from across the street. Max looked up and saw Victor. Victor was still in his sports clothes and was breathing hard from running.
Victor looked angry and sad. He stepped into the street and waved his arms. "I knew you were here!" Victor yelled. "We need to talk! No more lies!"
Max felt very bad. He stepped into the street to meet Victor. He wanted to fix their friendship.
"Victor, wait!" Max shouted.
Max walked into the street. He did not hear the car tires or see the black car coming. The driver was not looking at the road.
The car hit Max hard. It was fast and painful. Max was thrown through the air. His favorite book flew out of his hands and landed in a dirty puddle.
Everything went quiet. Max could not hear the people screaming or Victor calling his name.
Max lay on the cold ground and looked up at the gray sky. He did not think about school or his family. He only looked at his book nearby. It was covered in water and blood.
I really wanted to see how the story ended, he thought.
Then, everything went black.