By All Means, Fear [AJR]

Chapter 2

Everything felt off. But nothing felt different. It was like i wasn't me, but i was in the right place. It wasn't the first time i had felt this way. In fact, i almost always felt this way.

"Stevenson Charles Johnson!" Franchesca shouted. "Wake up! Your breakfast is getting cold!" Amity yanked my blanket and sat me up. "What?" i asked, half-asleep.

Franchesca handed me a mug of champurrado, and i took it from her, sipping the sweet, cinnamony drink. "Thanks," i told her. "It's amazing." Amity smiled. "We worked pretty hard on it," she told me. "You're welcome," Franchesca added.

"Why are you doing this?" i asked. "We-ell, we wanted to say happy birthday, and Mom and Dad got stuck in London for the next three weeks, so we figured we'd celebrate," Amity told me.

Happy birthday? My birthday was in September. It was August. I knew it was. Today was Jack's birthday.

"Could you give me a minute?" i asked, handing Franchesca the empty champurrado mug, and they leave me alone, locking the door behind them.

I scramble out of bed and look out my window. Autumn leaves grew and fell on trees, and onto the the crowded streets and sidewalks of New York City.

I checked my phone. September 29th. My birthday. I checked the time. 9 A.M. Five minutes before is when someone had given me champurrado every one of my birthdays since i was four.

How was this possible?

I looked out to see Shawn outside in clothes he'd only ever worn in the spring. And i knew where he was headed.

"Fran? Amity? Can we go to Central Park?" i asked.

"No problem, love!" Amity replied.

About ten minutes later, we walk outside to Central Park, and i see Shawn and Tom under a tree, talking. Shawn was wearing his spring clothes, and Tom was in winter gear.

"Hey," Shawn said when he saw me. Tom looked me up and down. "Your birthday, too?" he guessed. "Yeah," i mustered. "Something like that."

"It's weird," Tom said. "I go to bed August fifteenth, and suddenly, it's December twenty-sixth! How did i wake up in a different season!?" He buried his head in his hands, and Shawn set a hand on his shoulder.

"We'll get out of this," Dan's voice told us. We all turned to him, and none of us could help it. We all burst out laughing. He was dressed in pink and orange, the two colors he hated most.

"It's not funny," he snapped, crossing his arms. "And i thought i was dressed weirdest," Tom said. "Apparently not," Shawn wheezed.

"I'm guessing it's June fifth for you?" i ask Dan. He nods. "September twenty-ninth?" I sigh. "Somehow."

Dan turns to Tom, studying his outfit. "I can see why you're in winter gear," he says. "Do you see snow?" Shawn asks. Tom nods. "It's pure white," he says.

"What the fuck is going on?" Jack demanded.