Free OCDaniel by Wesley King

curiosity was overwhelming. He had to find out what the computer did.
    He tentatively reached out, then flicked the switch. The computer screen turned on, and red and green lights lit up the servers. A message popped up on the screen:
    INITIATE SPATIAL SHIFT? Y / N
    Daniel stared at the screen, green letters against the black. His hand moved without him. His finger found the Y . He wanted to know what the computer would do now. How dangerous could a computer in his attic really be? He pressed the key.
    INITIALIZING.
    And that was it. He stood there for a few minutes, waiting for something to happen. But the computer remained silent, and Daniel finally just gave up. He snuck back out of the attic, disappointed. It was an old computer, and nothing more.
    Or so he’d thought. As he stood there with his back pressed to the front door now, he realized he hadn’t switched it back.
    Daniel raced upstairs, pulled the trapdoor down, and scrambled up the ladder. He raced over to the computer. The screen said:
    PROCESS COMPLETE.
    Daniel sat down and pressed N . Nothing. He pressed escape. Another message popped up.
    PROCESS CANNOT BE REVERSED FROM THIS STATION.
    â€œWhat process?” he whispered. He scrambled through the papers on the desk. In desperation he flicked off the switch. The screen turned off. But it was too late.
    A paper slipped out and fell onto the floor. It read:
    Station #9
    Please oversee SAT for 03/05/14–03/05/15. Contact HQ if you have any issues.
    Regards,
    Charles Oliver
    214-054-2012
    Daniel put down the paper. He needed to make a call.
    I closed my notebook, hoping no one had noticed. I didn’t write often at school, but sometimes when I was bored, I continued writing in a notebook that I kept hidden. It probably wouldn’t have helped anyone to read it anyway—my handwriting looked like Egyptian hieroglyphics.
    It was English class, so I felt like I was kind of participating. We were talking about Lord of the Flies , which I’d read before.
    As soon as I stopped writing, I found myself thinking about Sara again. I still wasn’t sure if I was going to meet her. I mean, I really did have football practice, and my dad always said it was bad to skip things, even if no one would notice.
    But she had asked me to help find her dad. How could I just ignore that?
    â€œYou all right?” Max whispered.
    â€œYeah,” I said. “Just thinking.”
    â€œAbout play-offs? Two weeks, man.”
    I snorted. “Yeah. Exactly.”
    He nodded. “Me too. Portsmith is good. The best we’ve played this season. It’s going to be close.”
    â€œWe really need to work on your conception of sarcasm.”
    He smiled and turned back to the front. “Raya feels bad, you know.”
    I straightened. “What do you mean?”
    â€œShe didn’t say it, but I can tell. She was looking at you when you went in this morning.”
    I glanced at her, taking notes as Mr. Keats talked.
    â€œWhy would she feel bad?”
    â€œProbably because she knows you like her.”
    I looked at him, scandalized. “You didn’t.”
    â€œDidn’t have to. You light up like a firework when she looks at you.”
    â€œGreat,” I muttered. “As if I wasn’t embarrassed enough.”
    â€œI have something that will make you feel better.”
    â€œWhat?”
    Max grinned. “Taj told me he tried to kiss her good night.”
    â€œHow does that make me feel better?”
    He shrugged. “She said no and gave him a hug.”
    The smile blossomed before I could stop it.
    Max laughed. “Feel better?”
    â€œA little.”
    Â Â â€¢Â Â â€¢Â Â â€¢Â Â 
    I found Sara waiting inside by the front doors, alone. After taking a quick look in either direction, I hurried over to meet her. She looked strangely solemn, staring out at the parking lot and twirling her dark hair around a finger.
    â€œHey,” I