Chapter One: Un-Kin-ventional

Thirteen-year-old Corey Riffin strummed a chord on his electric guitar. The afternoon was quiet and steamy, a typical summer day in Peaceville, Illinois, and there was absolutely nothing going on. The blue-haired teen gazed around his garage, taking in the awesomeness of being bored for just a minute, and then sighed. Really loudly.

“There’s nothing to do,” he announced to his friends and bandmates, who were lounging around doing practically the same thing as Corey was. He flopped backwards and lay across the stage, letting his heavy guitar slide off of his shoulder and onto the floor. The thud caused Corey’s best friend Laney Penn to look in his direction.

“No kidding, Core,” she agreed, her fingers sliding up and down the neck of her bass. “I’m so bored my brain is turning into mush. Are we here to practice or what?”

“Yeah, but it’s too hot to do anything,” complained Kon Kujira, the band’s drummer. He was on the couch, mashing handfuls of chips into his mouth. “And my drums are still all sweaty from yesterday’s practice.”

Corey sighed again, letting his gaze creep back to Laney. She’d returned to her instrument and was plucking out a smooth bass line from one of the band's songs – Corey wasn’t sure whether it was one they had given lyrics yet or not. He watched her head bob in time to the music until her eyes shifted up to meet his.

It was kind of awkward…for multiple reasons. He felt a blush creeping up the back of his neck and was glad his lucky orange hat covered any of it Laney might have seen.

“What? Is there something in my hair?” Laney asked. She reached up and felt around her scalp for any unwanted objects. To diffuse the obvious tension, Corey laughed.

“Nope, you look all right, Lanes. Just listening to that wicked tune you were playing,” he said. Laney cocked an eyebrow, like she wasn’t sure she believed him, but returned to her playing. The low, deep chords seemed to meld perfectly with the summer air, like a background track in a movie.

Corey peeled himself off of the stage and walked over to see what Kin, Kon’s twin brother, was doing, Kin had a gift for the scientific, and inventing crazy machines was no exception. Today he was twisting wires into a device shaped like an oversize wristwatch. The smaller boy flinched as Corey’s shadow loomed over him. ‘I’m almost done, I’m almost done,” he panted. “Just a few more adjustments…”

Corey plucked the object out of his friend’s hands and examined it. “What does this thing do?” he asked, poking at tiny buttons that adorned the space where a watch face would normally go. “Is it some kind of upgraded time machine?”

Kin turned around, reaching for his shiny piece of tech. “It’s not done yet!” he explained, an indignant look on his face. “But it’s a teleportation device. Give it back so I can complete the finishing touches!”

Corey held the tiny machine up to the light. “Wicked! How does it work?”

“I haven’t tested it,” Kin said, yanking it out of Corey’s hands, “but it should take you wherever you want to go. When it’s done.” He looked pointedly at Corey, eyes beady behind his thick glasses, then returned to whatever nerdy stuff he had to do to complete the machine.

Kon, his bag of potato chips empty, clapped his hands together. “Maybe we’ll see our future selves again,” he said cheerfully, hopping down from the couch and stopping to peer over his brother’s shoulder.

Kin smiled. “Yeah, that’d be great!”

As the brothers bantered, Corey returned to the stage and picked up his guitar. Slinging the strap over his head, he began jamming along to Laney’s bass line, adding riffs and slides when they felt right. It sounded good.

Just then, a door slammed open above the garage. “WOULD YOU QUIET DOWN!?!?” an angry voice howled. “Mina can’t hear herself think when I tell her to!”

“Sis, I think you’ve used that one already,” Corey called, continuing to play along to the steady bass. He exchanged a wink with Laney, knowing what was coming next.

Without missing a beat, Corey's pink-haired older sister, stormed out onto the balcony. She had makeup half-plastered on the left side of her face, and wore a long, beribboned dress in such a hideous shade of magenta that Corey would have gladly gouged his eyes out rather than look at. To complete the look, the teen glowered at Corey with the intensity of a ten-power microscope. "What are you dorks thinking, making a noise like that while I get ready for my once-in-a-lifetime date with Nick Mallory?!?" she hissed, her one mascaraed eye twitching angrily.

"Absolutely nothing," Corey shot back, sharing another smile with Laney. "And you know why? Because as we do this, we are bored out of our skulls. Right, Lanes?"

Laney didn't answer, unless you count an impressive bass riff an answer to that question.

The older girl flipped her hair and huffed. "What-ever, Garbageband. Just keep it down while I am getting my beauty on, or you will be sorry!” the voice thundered. Stomping noises sounded on the floor, the door slammed shut, and the band was left alone.

There was a pause, then Laney turned wide-eyed to Corey, still picking the strings of her bass. "Wow, Core. I didn't know Trina finally managed to get a date with Nick Mallory."

"I didn't either," Corey said, and shrugged at the closed door. "But it doesn't give her license to interrupt our rehearsal like that."

Laney rolled her eyes. "What rehearsal?"

Corey grinned, closed his eyes, and let the music wash over him again. Sure, Trina was annoying, but it didn't take a genius to know that however badly she treated him, he would always have the band to pick him up again.

“Done!” Kin's voice said proudly. Corey’s eyes sprung open and he rushed over to snatch it from the littler boy's outstretched hand. The machine was smallish, silver, and seemed to be a watch until he looked at it more closely. It had dozens of buttons; none of them were the same color, and all of them probably meant something different. Corey shook it and pressed it against his nose to make sure that it was real.

“It’s…PERFECT,” Kon squealed. “Kin! Let’s test it!”

“I was thinking the same thing, twin of mine,” Kin said, a mischievous smile creeping across his face. “You guys up for a trial run of the newest Kin-vention?”

Corey’s face lit up. “You don’t have to tell me twice!” He rushed back to the stage, laid down his precious guitar, and grabbed Laney by the hand. “Come on, Lanes, we’ve got some adventuring to do!”

The short, red-headed bassist shrugged her instrument off of her shoulders and stood up, all thought of playing forgotten. “Hold up, Core. Don’t you think it could be dangerous? This thing hasn’t been tested, remember?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest.

“That’s why we’re testing it right now,” Corey said. He pushed Laney toward the twin brothers and the device in Kin’s hand. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

"Nope. Not gonna do it."

"Please?"

"Nope."

"Pleeeeeeeease?"

“Core…” Laney tapped her foot.

There was only one thing to do at a time like this: Corey pulled out the Bambi eyes.

“Ugh! Fine, I’ll come. But only because I can’t stand seeing you make that face,” Laney said, resignedly taking her place next to Kon. She made a point to ignore Corey when he pumped his fist and waggled his eyebrows at her, which was just a little bit disappointing.

“Okay, everyone, here’s what we do. I’m gonna wear the watch,” Kin said, holding up his wrist, where the teleporter gleamed. “You guys just have to hold on to me, and we’ll all teleport together. Ready?”

Everyone grabbed hold (Corey managed to get an arm) and Kin started to count down, but just as his index finger reached for the button, someone knocked on the garage door. Corey rolled his eyes. “Just a sec, guys,” he said. “Gotta get that.” He scampered over to the heavy garage door, reached down, and lifted it up with a good long shove. Standing before him was the impeccably dressed form of Peaceville’s resident celebrity, Nick Mallory.

“Well, hello there, Nick Mallory,” Corey said, giving the taller boy a little bow.

"Hey, Corey Riffin," Nick replied, holding out his hand for a patented Nick Mallory Fump™. "Nick sees you and the band are keeping it real in here. Nick digs that."

Corey glanced over his shoulder at the others. Laney was picking at some dust on her boot, Kon had produced another bag of chips, and Kin was gesturing at Nick with the watch hand, motioning for Corey to get him on out of here.

With a little laugh, the blue-haired guitarist turned back to Nick. "So, Nick," he said, "what brings you by the Riffin house today?"

“Nick is here to pick up Trina Riffin,” said Nick, examining his fingernails. “He has a date with her in about two minutes.”

“Oh, right! Uh…she’s still upstairs,” Corey said, jerking his thumb up at the door.

“Nick doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” Nick said.

“All right, buddy, just hold on a sec.” Corey dashed up the stairs two at a time and knocked on Trina’s door. “Trina? Hunky Nick Mallory is here waiting for you!”

The door immediately flew open, smashing heavily into Corey's face. “OMG! He is? Nick! Wait! I am totes right here!” Trina yelled, flouncing down into the garage. Her friend Mina Beff followed her, carrying three purses and a dress bag, and Corey was happy to slam the door closed behind them. As he did, he noticed that the normally calm-and-slightly-indifferent look that graced Nick Mallory's face slipped a couple of inches.

Trina ran up to Nick (completely ignoring Mina) and gave him a mushy smile. “Thanks so much for, like, asking me out and stuff,” she gushed. “I’ve been waiting for this day for my whole life!”

Nick blinked. “That’s cool, Trina Riffin,” he said, his face regaining its usual calm. “Come on. You and Nick have places to be.”

As Corey rejoined the other band members, he made a little wave in the departing groups’ direction. “Smell ya later, sis,” he said. “Have a good time on your date!”

Trina stopped in her tracks, causing Mina to tip forwards into Nick's jacket. Slowly, the pink-haired teen turned on her heel, then walked over to Corey, a sticky-sweet smile on her face. Too sweet, Corey thought.Dangerously sweet.

Soon, Trina was close enough to breathe acid into her little brother’s face. “Is that a threat, Corey? Cause I could, like, totally ruin your day and junk. Even if you don’t have a gig.”

“Nope!” Corey said nervously, backing away into the rest of the band and trying to ignore the feeling of Laney's nose poking into his arm. “Just wishing you the best of dates! No hidden meanings in there at all!” But Trina kept staring at him.

“I don’t believe you,” she said, taking another step forward and poking Corey in the chest. “Because every time I try to have some fun, you and your stupid band manage to ruin it. Well, that’s not going to happen anymore.”

Mina turned around, eyes wide. “Trina, come on,” she squeaked. “Nick is waiting.”

“I am ready to get my turn once and for all,” Trina said, her smile turning evil. “And I know just how to do it.”

Mina turned to Nick, dropping the purses. “Nick, do something!” she wailed.

Nick sighed. “Nick Mallory will take care of it,” he said, walking forward to grab Trina’s arm.

Kin desperately pushed a button on the teleportation machine.

The button was pink, and immediately a bright pink nebula shone around the entire group. They were all connected – the band all holding onto Kin, Trina’s arm smashed into Corey’s stomach, Nick attached Trina’s wrist and Mina latched onto the back of Nick’s shirt. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Kon blinked in slow motion. Corey opened his mouth as if to say something.

Then the nebula dissolved, and everyone dissolved along with it.

Author's Note

Hi, Twi and Lanes here! Just letting you know that this chapter has undergone significant revision since we posted it on ff.net.

If anyone thinks we should repost there with the new narrative, let us know. Thanks!

• TwiLanes