Chapter Text
“I can’t believe I was dumb enough to actually believe you were my friend!”
Wilbur awoke with a start.
He placed a hand on his chest to steady his racing heart. He doesn’t know why he keeps remembering it. The way his skin felt wrong just before he disappeared. The way his hands blew away like sand in the breeze. The way his family looked at him while his best friend, his father, ran from him. Their expressions etched into his mind.
One month.
It’s been one month since the time machine was stolen (which they never got back, by the way), Wilbur took Lewis to the future (which wasn’t the best move in hindsight), fought a dinosaur (that they ended up adopting), Wilbur’s family tried to adopt Lewis (because of course they did), and all that other stuff. The other stuff. The stuff Wilbur doesn’t like to think about. Like lying to Lewis. Like disappearing. Like breaking his best friend’s heart because Lewis had to be looked in the eyes and rejected by yet another family.
“Wilbur, honey! Twenty minutes until we leave! Don’t want to be late!”
His mother’s voice called from the hall. Despite this, Wilbur didn’t hurry. He could be late. He didn’t care. He felt a slight twinge of fear at the thought of going to school. At being without his family. Why does he need school anyway? This family was full of geniuses and inventors, galactic travelers and engineers. And stuntmen. And frogs. He could homeschool! He should homeschool. Not like he has friends at school to hang out with. His family had a reputation for being just south of mad and northeast of clinically insane.
“I heard his mom raises frogs from the dead,” one kid had said.
“His cousin went crazy and attacked some girl a few years ago,” said another.
Once in the second grade, Wilbur had bragged that his dad had built him a robot best friend, but it didn’t have the effect he was hoping for. They had just laughed and called it sad. Wilbur shook his head at the memory. They were wrong, anyway.
Speaking of which, his dad is supposed to hang out with him after school today. He was usually at work, and Wilbur would play in the lab or hang with one of his relatives instead. He smiled. Maybe they’d build something or play charge ball, or do something fun!
A sudden twinge of electricity through Wilbur’s hand caused him to drop his hairbrush. His fingers burned, his hand glitching slightly. Wilbur held his breath and shook his hand until it calmed down and his hand was normal again. A side effect of time travel, he assumed. He hated it.
“Hey, little buddy!”
Wilbur quickly moved his arm behind his back just in time for Carl to stick his head in the doorway. “Happy Friday!” He beamed. “Lefty got up early this morning just to make pancakes! You want ketchup on yours, right?”
“Oh! Yeah! I’ll be right there!”
The moment Carl left, Wilbur sighed and looked at his hand, now normal and no longer glitching.
He’d tell his dad. Eventually.
“Jeez!”
Fritz grabbed the handle on his door by the passenger seat. Tallulah frowned. “Dad, I just started the car. We’re not even off the ground yet.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to drive a normal car?” Fritz asked nervously. “Those are pretty safe. Or better yet, we can wait until tomorrow!”
“Ugh, where’s the fun in that?” Tallulah played with the steering wheel of the family car.
“And the freedom! Why drive a normal car when I can fly one anywhere I want? Everything is up in the sky now. The age to fly a car is 21, and I even waited an extra year like you wanted. And a week! My 22nd birthday was exactly one week ago. You let Laszlo fly a week after his 22nd birthday.”
“I know, I know… but…”
“But…?”
Tallulah paused with realization.
“Today is Friday the 13th, isn’t it.”
Her father’s pause all but confirmed it. Everyone knew that Fritz Robinson was a man of superstition. He’d run away from black cats, once refused to leave the house after Billie accidentally broke a mirror, and wore a helmet to Wilbur’s 13th birthday party.
Tallulah sighed. “We’re not gonna fall out of the sky-”
Fritz paled. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”
Tallulah unclicked her seatbelt and climbed out. “You want me to get Laszlo to teach me?”
Her father sighed.
“Yes, please.”