"This shouldn't be happening... it shouldn't..." I kept muttering to myself as I walked towards the campus gates. I was still in my school uniform — albeit grimy after my adventure — so the guard let me pass without question.

I must also be smelling of sweat, I realized, suddenly conscious about my appearance. Several minutes ago I had tried chasing the boy as he snatched my book again and darted through the streets. Without success, of course.

Truth is, he's starting to scare me. Heck, I don't even know his name! But leading (okay, tricking) me into this Time Shaft, and knowing I'll end up at this moment in time... and, furthermore, knowing the significance of this moment... something was definitely off.

"Hey, Erik!"

Uh-oh. I turned towards the voice, and saw a tall, chubby guy walking up to me. His white polo was unbuttoned at the front, obscuring the blue-and-orange school logo stitched on his pocket. His red backpack was slung carelessly over one shoulder. He walked with a heavy limp, but was grinning as he reached me.

"Heya Chuck, how's the foot?"

Chuck looked confused for a moment. "What, you don't think this will heal in one afternoon, do you?"

Right, I forgot. This was around the time he injured his foot in PE class, chasing after a rogue basketball. He would still have a bit of that limp six months later.

This whole time travel thing is confusing, I grumbled internally as I reached for the phone in my pocket. The home screen displayed 7:24 PM. It failed to adjust itself to this alien timezone.

Chuck was mumbling a bit about some homework I can no longer remember. Then, after a pause, he asked me if I was ready.

"For what?" I replied absentmindedly. Chuck waved a mocking hand in front of my face.

"Uhm, the dance? Students' Night? You know, the one my sister's been organizing for the past few weeks?"

"Dang, of course I'm ready!" I feigned excitement. I guess my voice reached such a high note that he was convinced. Actually, what I was feeling was panic. I hadn't made any plans as I strolled through the school gates, and it must be around half past five by now.

"Say, has Gian texted you in the past hour?", I asked. That's right, I was supposed to be looking for him.

Chuck didn't ask why, but he pulled out his phone to check. "Yeah, I think I remember him saying he's getting ready. About five minutes ago."

"Oh, that's... err... good. Say, I gotta go now. I just remembered something dad asked me to do," I don't make a good liar, but Chuck was too busy tapping away at his phone to notice.

"Just don't bail out on us later, 'kay?", he shouted as I sprinted towards the back of the school.

It happened at a few minutes past six, I recalled. I made a beeline for the school's back gate, and ran down the thin asphalted road that led to the shuttle stop. Thankfully, the mini-bus was right there, idling in wait for passengers.

As I got in, I glanced at the clock on the dashboard. It was 5:37. Dear God, I prayed as I took my seat, I hope the roads are clear!

Gian's house was just a three-minute walk from the shuttle's second stop, and I got there a few minutes before six. I jogged towards their gate, and peered through the peeling white paint of the wrought iron.

Gian was just walking out of the house, his perpetually slicked-back hair even shinier than usual. He straddled his motorcycle, and jammed its key in the ignition. It was a dark blue Yamaha underbone, which his dad gave him as a gift for winning a national news writing competition last year. Of course he was underaged so he did not have a license, but that didn't stop him from going around town on it on weekends. Tonight, he hoped the added cool factor of his bike would land him a date for the dance.

He saw me approach, and raised both a hand and an eyebrow in greeting. As soon as I got past the unlocked gate, he spoke up. "Don't tell me you're going in that pile of rags!"

"And don't tell me you're riding that to school! You could get caught, you know?"

"Meh, don't worry. The highway patrol changes shifts around this time, so I can squeeze through."

Dammit, think! I struggled as I laughed in response. He had already revved up the engine. "Not tonight you can't. There's been an armed robbery near Mabini Avenue, and there's talk about setting up roadblocks," I said on impulse.

"What?"

"Yeah, that's why I hurried here. I had a feeling you'll try picking up juniors on that bike, and I don't want you spending the night in jail!" Please, please believe, I thought hard.

"Aw, not cool! Even the side streets?"

"Even the side streets," I pressed on.

"That really sucks. Tonight, of all nights!"

"Yeah, I know! I mean you could try looking for blindspots, but I don't think the police will be taking chances." Was that a little too much?

Gian took a few seconds to decide before he got off the bike and rolled it back towards their shed. I breathed a sigh of relief. We then walked towards the shuttle station. He headed straight to school, while I went home for a bit to change clothes.

The rest of the night was pretty uneventful, though I had to stick close to Gian's conversations so he doesn't realize the robbery was a lie. But really, it's all good. At least there wasn't any of the gut-wrenching drama that we had on this same night, six months ago.

At around 2AM, the party started to break up. I decided it was time to rest, and walked towards the back of the school again. Outside the gate, a most interesting person was waiting for me.

"Did you make it?", the orphan boy asked me, his beaming face slightly annoying me despite my good mood.

I stopped just a few feet from him, facing him squarely. "Who are you?" I asked as dramatically as I can.

"My name is Karl," he answered nonchalantly. I'm not sure whether to be surprised or irritated. I was half-expecting him to evade the question.

"And?"

"And...? Oh yeah, well, I've been observing you for some time."

"Yes, you told me that. How did you know about tonight?"

He only smiled. "You have a lot of questions, don't you?"

Indeed I did. How he did know the Time Shaft would dump me here? How did he know I will survive the fall? That he will survive the fall? Has he tried it before? What does he mean by "observing"? Why me? What does he get out of this? The questions spilled one after the other, choking me.

"But I can't answer any of that," his smile grew wider.

"Why?" I blurted out.

"Because it will ruin the fun!" Karl thrust his hands up to the evening air, looking like there was nothing he enjoyed more in the world than these kinds of mind games. The night wind fluttered his thin, red-striped top and his patched black shorts, ruffling his unkempt hair.

With one last smile at me, the boy took off into the dark, his worn flip-flops pattering on the asphalt. I shook my head. I am so close to giving up looking for any sense in what's happening.

Six months ago, on this very same night, Gian suffered a near-fatal crash riding his motorcycle to the Students' Night. He was speeding through the highway without his helmet, and his crash left him in a coma for several weeks. For some time, the doctors weren't even sure whether he'd live.

Six months ago, on this very same night, I almost lost a dear friend. How the orphan boy knew it, I didn't know. And, tired as I was, I didn't really care. At least for now. I just have the feeling that I will meet the boy again. And I will, bit by bit, get my answers.