Life Time

Have you ever had that feeling that you love someone, and that maybe, just maybe, they love you back?

Have you ever been wrong?

I certainly have, but that's beside the point.

The world changes. And with it, so do the people. Life goes on, people change, we adapt. People live, people die. People love, hate, or could even care less. But the world I live in is most likely completely different from the one you're in now, sitting in and reading this. Why, you ask?

Because in my world, no one dies.

However, life for me is virtually the same as life for you. I go to school, have friends and a family, I live and learn, make mistakes, etcetera. The problem is, I can't die, get sick, or injured.

Let me explain.

One and a half years ago, the government, in league with an unknown medical institution, found the cure for cancer. Great, right? Yes, and no. They decided that since some forms of cancer can't be detected until it is too late, that everyone would be forced to be inoculated with the cure. The problem was that the cure not only cured cancer, it cured everything. It made people feel as if they were never more alive. It made people feel invincible. When I was inoculated, I was sixteen, and I still am. Will be for the rest of eternity. At least, in terms of looks, I'm sixteen. In reality, I'm seventeen.

In other words, babies that were inoculated are still babies, and will always be babies. I suppose you could say that the life I live now is somewhat of a Neverland.

"Alea, what is the answer to question seven?" Mrs. Trice, my math teacher, asks me. I'm at school, now.

"Three over negative six."

"Very good. And, Casey, before I forget, did you ever make up that test you missed on Wednesday? I think not..."

Mrs. Trice drones on. Math class is never fun for me, and it never has been exactly a walk in the park, either.

The desks in the classroom are arranged in rows and columns, and it just so happens that nobody I know sits near me. I pretty much just come into the room, sit down, and pay attention quietly. The only person in my class that does anything lively is this kid who is seated a few desks away from me. His name's Joe. I know, simple name. He's actually pretty funny and athletic, considering he plays both baseball and basketball.

Anyway, Joe livens up the class with the occasional joke or sarcastic remark to Mrs. Trice. I've never spoken to him, and I probably should, since he's in three of my classes all in a row. I'm too nervous. I'll explain later, it's a bit complicated.

Just as Mrs. Trice is scolding Casey, a girl I know, about not taking a test, the bell rings and everyone gets up to leave. I smile faintly to my teacher as I exit the room. There are five minutes between each class, so this gives me time to say hello to anyone I might meet in the hall. I go to the top of one hall and wait for my friends Caroline and Kelly. We talk briefly about today's gym class, and how lifting weights is pointless. The warning bell rings, and I run to my next class: biology.

Joe is in this class, too. He sits across from me, and we occasionally have one or two-line conversations. As my biology teacher, Dr. Gallo, talks about cells and photosynthesis, I casually sneak peeks at Joe.

He's fairly attractive, I must say. I've never really noticed before until now, and you'll understand why Joe is so important later. He's taller than me, thin and athletic, with fair skin and dark brown hair that he always has combed neatly. He has blue-green eyes and his face always seems to have an expression as if he just finished laughing.