"Look, Percy. I'm not trying to sound rude, but you...you really need a lot of work."
I held in a sigh of exasperation, deciding it would be best to remain quiet. Callie and I were currently on our way from the Caldwell's, back to her own residence. Riding in her infernal contraption wasn't quite as nerve-wracking as before, but I still felt rather queasy. When Nora Caldwell announced that food had been prepared for us to eat, she most certainly had not been saying this in jest. Nothing looked remotely recognizable on the table Mrs. Caldwell had displayed her feast.
Callie had become exasperated after a moment of my staring at what I presumed to be food and quickly compiled a plate for me. I proceeded to eat what Callie called a hot dog, potato salad, and these crisps she called Lays. Needless to say, my stomach was not at all pleased.
It was nearing eight o'clock in the evening, and the sun had already begun to set. Mrs. Caldwell insisted that we were welcome to stay as long as we liked, but after three or so hours of attempted conversation with strangers from another century, Callie decided that was enough. I privately agreed with her, and tried not to make it so obvious that I was eager to escape.
If there was one thing I garnered from my rather unwanted evening with Callie and the Caldwell family, it was that blending in, as Callie called it, was going to be no simple task. I had no desire to learn, and it was fairly obvious Callie had no desire to teach me.
She spared me a cursory glance as she maneuvered the automobile onto a different street far too quickly for my liking. "Yeah?"
I grit my teeth, bracing myself against the door to try and keep some semblance of balance. "Is it your intention to have me stay with you during the...duration of my time here?"
As troublesome as the thought of staying with Callie for the foreseeable future was, I would rather not find an alternate residence unless absolutely necessary. It had been difficult enough convincing Callie that I was telling the gospel truth, that I really had been thrown into the future. Even then I wasn't entirely sure she believed me. Ian and his younger brother certainly did not.
I heard Callie mutter something under her breath, and then she sighed heavily. "Honestly, Percy, this isn't the most ideal situation."
"Yes, I'm well aware."
"But...yes. It makes the most sense for you to stay with me."
I waited for her to continue speaking, but she remained decidedly tight-lipped, keeping her gaze fixed forward.
"Why is that, if you don't mind my asking?" I inquired after an expanse of uneasy silence.
Callie sighed again. "Both my brothers moved out a few years ago and my dad is an airline pilot. He's usually only home two or three times a week. It's pretty much just me most of the time."
"Ah. Of course." I did not find this so agreeable, Callie being alone most of the time. A young lady such as herself frequently left alone? Surely that was unacceptable. "But...what is an airline pilot?"
I did not see why my question would've amused Callie so, but she laughed loudly. "Sorry, I forgot. Of course you wouldn't know about airplanes."
"We've got a lot of more Googling to do, Percy."
Callie lived in what she called an apartment, in a complex called Royalwood Pines. She informed me that their residence was on the third floor, and rather than taking me in an elevator, she opted for the stairs.
YOU ARE READING
Wrong Time Right PlaceGeneral Fiction
1887, London: Percy Townsend doesn't want to be married and doesn't want to follow in his father's footsteps and take over as head of the family business. 2014, Denver: Callie Emerson just wants to make it through her senior year of high school ali...