Owen woke up to his mother calling him and immediately pushed himself upright, looking around quickly for ray guns or white rabbits or something.
Unfortunately, there was nothing but a cleaned-up children’s section.
No. No no no! Had he dreamed all of that? Did that mean that he really was still stuck in real life? AGH!
“Owen?” his mother shouted again. “What’s taking you so long?”
“Sorry, I was just reading!” he shouted back to her, then grabbed his Kiel Gnomenfoot book and ran to the front of the library, getting more and more depressed with every step. No! It had to be real! If it was real, then that meant there was more to life than boring classes and boring chores after school and boring everything else. Bethany jumping into books was the opposite of boring, and therefore it had to be real, if life was going to be fair at all!
Owen spent that night staring at the ceiling, waiting to sleep and not even feeling a sliver tired. Would Bethany be in school tomorrow? Would she deny it all? Had he just made it all up? And if not, how did she do it? What did she do in books . . . just explore, or did she mostly go for eating fictional candy? Who had she met? Did she have autographs?
Sometime during the night he must have fallen asleep, because his alarm pulled him out of dreams of Bethany introducing him to Aslan the lion as the people of Narnia cheered. Owen slapped the alarm off, then leaped out of bed, wide awake despite getting almost no sleep.
His mother asked him if everything was okay as he almost choked on his breakfast, and then he raced out the door, easily twenty minutes early for the bus. When it finally came, Owen sat alone in the very first seat, his legs shaking from nervousness and excitement the entire way.
He pushed his way off the bus as fast as he could and speed-walked to class, so he wouldn’t get in trouble for running. Once there, he took his seat and waited, the first one to show up.
Other kids filed in, none looking that happy to be there, and more than a few gave him an odd look as he sat at his desk, grinning in anticipation. He couldn’t help it, though. Bethany would be there soon, and then he’d get his answers. It had to be real. It just made so much more sense than math and school and chores!
Mr. Barberry stepped in, and the bell rang a second later with no sign of Bethany. Owen almost slapped his desk in frustration. Where was—
And then Bethany slid in the door, right behind Mr. Barberry. She edged along the side of the room and quickly took her seat, sitting down just as Mr. Barberry turned around to start class, completely missing the fact that she was late.
Owen glanced over his shoulder at her as subtly as he could, but Bethany had her eyes locked on the front of the room, where Mr. Barberry had started talking about geography.
Owen groaned. So, what, he’d have to wait till lunch now to talk to her? Life was both boring and very, very cruel.
What followed were the worst three hours that Owen had ever experienced, like Christmas Eve, the night before vacation, and waiting for the new Kiel Gnomenfoot to come out all rolled into one. Minute by minute rolled by, and Owen was so frustrated, he didn’t even bother daydreaming. Instead, he threw looks back at Bethany, who seemed to be paying more attention to Mr. Barberry than anyone had ever before, in all of history.
Finally the lunch bell rang, and Owen had to hold himself down, letting the rest of the class leave before him. Bethany seemed to be waiting too, but seeing that he wasn’t going anywhere, she quickly got up and left, ignoring him when he called out her name as she passed.
Owen paused, psyched himself up, then walked out directly behind her, following her to the cafeteria. She sat down alone at a table with her paper bag lunch, and he sat down right across from her, completely lunchless.
“Hi!” he said, grinning widely.
She sighed loud enough to be sure he heard and gave him a dirty look. “What?”
“What are you reading?” he asked, pointing at the book next to her lunch tray.
She flipped the book over even as he asked about it. “None of your business.”
“Is it any good?”
She made an annoyed growling noise. “Owen. Tell me what you want.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Are you going to blackmail me or something? Turn me in to the library police? All unless I jump you into a book and steal you a time machine or something?”
That threw him. “Blackmail? . . . A time machine? Where would you get that?”
She glared at him. “From The Time Machine. It’s a book, and the title kinda gives it away.”
“Oh right!” he said. “But no, I just came over here because, honestly, I thought I might have imagined the whole thing. But you saying it happened makes me feel so much better.” He grinned again.
She stared at him, openmouthed, then rolled her eyes. “This is what I get for not letting you talk first.”
“So how does it work?” Owen whispered, looking around to make sure no one else was watching or listening.
“How does what work?” she asked, looking tired of this whole conversation.
“You doing . . . whatever it is that you do? With the finger waving in Wonderland? And bringing us into War of the Worlds?”
She glanced around. “Can we not talk about this here, in the middle of the cafeteria? Everyone’s staring at us.”
Owen glanced in the direction she nodded in, but saw no one looking at them. He turned back and realized she’d been about to make a run for it. “Nice try!” he said, standing up too. “We can go somewhere else, but you’re not running away into a book or something. Not without me!”
“Is that a threat?” she demanded, giving him a cold glare.
“No?” he said, his confusion making his smile fade. “I just . . . You can’t know how amazing this is, how it makes up for everything. I knew that there was something like this out there, because if there wasn’t, then life is just dental floss and vegetables and word problems. That can’t be everything. Deep down, I think we all know there has to be more. So for books to be real? To know they’re out there, all my favorite characters? That would make it all worth it!”
She stared at him for a moment, then shook her head. “I’m an idiot for even talking to you. But if I tell you about it, will you promise to never tell anyone else?”
Owen crossed his heart, and she rolled her eyes again. “Not good enough?” he asked. “How about, I solemnly swear that I am up to no good—”
“Don’t Marauder’s Map me,” she told him. “I’ll talk to you at the library tonight. Until then, you don’t speak to me, look at me, or even know I exist. Now leave me alone.”
Owen beamed and stood up to go get food, too excited to eat but knowing he’d better, since he might need his strength. There’d have to be dragons, whatever story they’d visit tonight. And magic. And spaceships, and aliens who weren’t allergic to human colds, and flying squirrels, and volcanoes, and superspies, probably, and everything else he couldn’t even imagine right now.
All this time, his favorite books hadn’t been lying. All you had to do was wait long enough, last through enough boring lessons on fractions, live through enough chores and homework and evil stepmothers, and eventually you found something . . . better. A fairy godmother, a dying alien with a power ring, or a doorway to a magical world.
And Owen’s doorway just happened to be a girl named Bethany.
The rest of the day went by in a blur, mostly because Owen didn’t even bother trying to pay attention. Instead, he went through all his favorite books in his head, trying to pinpoint which one they should go into first.
Obviously, Harry Potter would be near the top of the list. Not even to Hogwarts, just to Ollivanders for a wand. That’d be perfect. Next, The Lightning Thief. And The Graveyard Book, and a trip to Fablehaven, and—
And then Owen stopped short, right in the middle of the sidewalk as he walked home from the bus. What was he thinking? What was everyone at school talking about? The seventh Kiel Gnomenfoot book, out next week. And why? Because they all wanted to find out if the Magister had lived, and if not, to see Kiel get revenge on Dr. Verity.
But what if . . . what if someone saved the Magister from Dr. Verity? What if Bethany brought Owen into the book right at the moment when Dr. Verity attacked, and Owen stopped him?
He would be a hero. A hero in a book. A hero in a book that everyone read.
Owen’s mouth dropped open, and pure joy exploded in his chest. This would be huge. Bigger than saving Dumbledore, since Dumbledore came back anyway as a ghost or whatever. The Magister was like everyone’s favorite character after Kiel. It might even change how the books ended!
That was it. None of the tourist, autograph type stuff. Clearly, Owen had been pulled out of his boring world for exactly this reason. It was meant to be. Fate or something. He’d been chosen, and it was time to save the greatest wizard ever, the Magister.
And all Owen had to do to make it happen was convince Bethany to take him.