Remembrance (The Transcend Time Saga) Read Online Free Page B

hour, and despite wanting to read more, I had other homework assignments to complete. I placed the book on the floor next to me and took my sketchbook out of my bag. There was no better time to start filling it up than the present. I opened it to the first page and placed the tip of my pencil on the blank paper, beginning to draw.
    The scenes from the book remained in my mind, and by the time 5:15 rolled by, I was staring at a half-completed sketch of a girl with long blonde hair in a high-waisted flowing ballgown from what I assumed was the early 1800’s. Long satin gloves traveled up to her elbows, and a headpiece adorned her curls. Her hair flowed all the way down her back, just how I imagined mine might look if I grew it longer. She looked into a mirror, and it appeared like she was preparing to attend a ball much like the one described in the chapters that I’d just read in the book. It looked and felt so familiar—almost like I’d drawn it from memory.
    I traced my fingers upon the image as I examined it, wondering what inspired me to draw someone who looked more like me than the main character, Lizzy. Her name was the same as mine—except for the slight variation of spelling—which could possibly explain why I merged us together, but I still couldn’t quite make sense of it. She was the only figure on the paper besides the mirror, and I lifted the pencil again, beginning to sketch the background so it didn't look like she was floating randomly on the page.
    More time must have passed than I realized, and the sound of the door opening interrupted my thoughts. I looked up to see Jeremy stride into the room. He still wore his brown gym shorts and white jersey with the number 12 on the back below his last name that was spelled in all capital letters. His hair was a little darker than its normal dark blonde because of sweat, and his cheeks were still red from practice.
    I dropped my pencil in the crease of my sketchbook, disappointed to have to stop mid-way through the drawing. “Did you get co-captain?” I asked, trying not to get irritated about being interrupted while sketching. I could always finish when I got home from school.
    “You bet I did!” he answered pumping his fist in the air in excitement. He walked over and joined me on the beanbag, slinging his arm around my shoulders. He was still sweaty, but I tried to ignore it as I rested my head on his chest, noticing that his arms were firmer than they were in the beginning of summer because of his intense workouts. “It was pretty much a given that I would get it,” he continued, "but it’s good knowing it’s official.”
    “That’s awesome, Jere,” I said, looking up at him and smiling to show him I meant it. In that moment, he was back to the same Jeremy I knew growing up. Excitable, fun, and relaxed, he looked down at me with those blue eyes that were as familiar as the back of my hand. “I had a feeling you would get it.”
    “Thanks, Liz.” He leaned closer and rested his forehead against mine, the sweat from his hair matting on my skin. The slight movement caused the pencil to roll out of the crease of my sketchbook, and it fell to the floor. “What're you drawing?” he asked, moving his hand down to the book in my lap. Despite knowing that I didn't like anyone seeing my drawings before they were completed, he grabbed it before I could respond and lifted it out of my reach.
    “You don’t want to look at that…” I pleaded, reaching forward to try getting it back. I was unsuccessful. “It’s not even close to finished yet.”
    He ignored me and pulled it closer, examining the sketch. “This is different from your other stuff,” he said, squinting as he looked at it.
    “Different how?” I asked, even though I knew he was right.
    “You normally draw scenery.” He rotated the book in his hand, continuing to study the image. “Did you have some strange assignment to draw yourself in medieval clothes?”
    “It’s not medieval,”