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By A.E. Vander Kolk

Seventeen-year-old Raze N lives in New York Gritty, the average part of the city. He blends in with the rest of the students who attend the School of Thought, a place created to change the lives of others for the better through the city’s youth. Raze is a nice guy who is hardly ever wrong, unlike the other Ns. But what Raze does not know is that he is about to make history.

Dr. Kemf, second in command to the mayor, determines how the world functions. Simply put, he is the reason why people live safely every day. When he sends his assistant to Raze’s door to interview him about a potential lab, the teen unintentionally reveals his UTheory that people ruin everything and promptly sends her away. After his actions make the news, Raze learns that his theory has been submitted to Dr. Kemf who wants to meet him in Central Park. As a chain of events unfolds, Raze soon discovers that nothing is certain in an uncertain world.

In this young adult novel, a teen attempting to exist during a strange time in New York City is propelled down an adventurous path where one theory has the power to change everything.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LifeRich Publishing
• Release date: Dec 30, 2020
• ISBN: 9781489732095

A.E. Vander Kolk

This is A.E. Vander Kolk's second published book, capturing the hearts and minds of teenagers. The first book, We’ve Been There was written when she was 14 years old and received great reviews for taking on issues that most teen fiction does not address.

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Copyright © 2020 A.E. Vander Kolk.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

LifeRich Publishing is a registered trademark of The Reader’s Digest Association, Inc.

LifeRich Publishing

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-4897-3198-2 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-3199-9 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4897-3209-5 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020923141

LifeRich Publishing rev. date: 01/27/2021

CONTENTS

Introduction

Part 1

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Part 2

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Part 3

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Part 4

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Epilogue

INTRODUCTION

T he amount of chaos and atrocity that people of my kind predicted was only somewhat accurate. It’s sometimes disturbing to observe all the monstrosity occurring as this corrupt planet turns.

Okay, okay, I get it. I’m trying to find a positive aspect of this. Wait, hold on a minute. You don’t even know what I’m talking about. In fact, you don’t even know who I am. Well, this is awkward. I’m not really in the mood to tell you who I am, but I will describe myself a little bit: I guess I’m not really a person. I’m not too relevant to this story. But I do affect the story.

It doesn’t really matter what you’re doing, who you’re with, or where you are. All I ask is for your full attention. This could be confusing, offensive, awful, funny, adorable, depressing, action-packed, scary … I don’t know. I’m not you, and I will never be you. One thing I wish is that while you’re listening to this story, you’re not already living this. And if you are, I’m sorry because I am too late and your last hope is me. I hope I meet your standards.

PART 1

CHAPTER

1

A t least from my own experience, kids used to fix their eyes on the clock, waiting for that bell to ring. Clearly their energy had been caged in instead of being put to use. It was devastating to hear the echo of the sound of the end of school. Why? Because no kids would budge. It was almost as if each of their teachers spit on, stomped on, and shattered each kid’s brain.

I watched a particular classroom as each kid slowly got up from their LearnChair, as if they had just woken up from a fifty-year nap. So many kids are crammed together, worn out without barely even moving.

Raze N shook his head like a wet dog. His dirty-blond hair had unnatural, lighter-blond streaks in the front. Only he could really pull off his blue-gray eyes. With all the new dental improvements, Raze’s dentist probably fixed up his smile well. Tall and a little lanky, Raze was good-looking. He had turned sixteen over the summer. Like most attractive people, he could look older and younger than his actual age.

Raze blended in well with the rest of the School of Thought (SOT) in that he wore a bunch of colors that only somewhat matched. Raze found a FloorBoard (FB) on the sidewalk, which took him in the air through New York City. SOT was located in New York Pretty, but all kids—yes, every single kid—in New York attended SOT.

Because Raze didn’t live in the New York Pretty area, he was considered average. Someone couldn’t get much more average than Raze since he was an N. In New York City, boroughs really didn’t exist anymore. If one’s last letter were anywhere from A to I, they were in New York Pretty, living the luxury existence with higher-paying jobs and the newest technology and living styles.

Raze lived in New York Gritty, the average part of the city. They had okay living spaces, conditions, technology, everything. NYG was from J to R, and because N was in the smack middle of the house letters, the Ns were the most average people in the city. Unfortunately people were too stubborn to realize that Raze was above average, but I’ll come back to that later.

New York Pity was the third area of New York, from S to Z. One could probably assume the conditions of NYPI: filthy, stupid people, and fights. These were all just stereotypes, but some were somewhat accurate.

Raze N hovered through Times Square as he passed moving images of bands, shows, and the like, random, glitchy sounds blasted from the lifelike images around him. Colors flashed in his eyes as auto-tuned voices rang in his ears. Thank God for FBs. If he had to walk, Raze might have literally fallen asleep.

His blond hair flipped in the breeze as he inhaled the scent of rubber from all the lifelike images around him. Holograms of Wind Blowing East (WBE) appeared in front of Raze, as though personally inviting him to their show next month at Madison Square Garden. Raze passed right through the holograms.

Once Raze reached his apartment, he let himself in and went straight to the bathroom. His parents weren’t home. They were probably working on their new pitch, a table that makes food for its owners. They were never home.

Raze looked in the bathroom mirror. His eyes were red around the edges. This was becoming an unhealthy habit of his, but he couldn’t figure out why. He shrugged it off, sat on the couch in the other room, and turned on the arms to massage his shoulders. He carefully pulled out a hardcover book, flipping through the pages. Raze found the vintage aspects of the book appealing. But one page turned into one yawn; then two pages turned into two closed eyes.

The book lay carefully on his lap, but he still gripped it tight. Raze was fast asleep—slumber he needed but didn’t know he wanted.

CHAPTER

2

T here was no sudden movement of anything. The chair arms were massaging his back, the wind blew softly outside of the apartment, and no one was pounding facts into his little brain. The boy was asleep, the way he should be after a long day of work, for about five minutes.

Very shortly after he closed his eyes, Raze heard a knock on his door. He sighed and then went to answer it.

Hello, Mr. N. Before Raze stood a young woman with hot-pink, square glasses. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Her skin was darker; Raze assumed she was Indian. Hello, Mr. N, she repeated. I’d like to ask you a few questions for Dr. Kemf.

Sure thing. Just give me one sec. Raze then shut the door in her face and locked it.

Mr. N, please.

Raze let out a heavy sigh and then went back to the door and unlocked it.

This is a necessary survey, the woman said sternly.

Yeah, but I’m not my father, as you can probably tell. And Dr. Kemf keeps sending a million of you desperate people a week. He should have enough info by now.

"We don’t want your father’s data actually. I’m Lulu, Dr. Kemf’s actual assistant, and he asked to record your voice on the following questions."

Raze smiled slyly and shook his head. Why do you want my input anyway? I’m an N. Get data from Bs and Cs and stop interrupting us Ns who are trying to get some sleep!

Lulu straightened her glasses and blinked a few times. Lulu was a fragile creature, a very by-the-book type of girl. You’re sixteen though, according to my Pad’s chart, and we wanted your input about a possible creative lab for teens like yourself. It’d be located right outside of Times Square. Let me ask you: Are you creative?

I’m more creative than any of those As or Bs taking over the city. That’s for sure.

Wonderful! Lulu smiled.

Dr. Kemf must’ve been completely wasted when he hired Lulu. She clearly had no idea of the social norms.

You know, Lulu, you’d be hotter if you didn’t go around bugging people like this, Raze said, leaning against the doorway, and if you brushed your hair.

That wasn’t very nice. Lulu blinked a few times again. Anyway, what are your thoughts on this lab?

Raze scowled. Are you kidding me? My brain is already fried from school.

I don’t think that’s true, Raze.

Exercise, music, fashion, learning—they all used to be fun at one point, but Mayor AAA had to go and ruin it all. So unless this corrupt-ass system changes, I don’t want any lab!

If—

Hey, look, it’s simple: people ruin everything. I can’t believe I have to take a damn FB to school instead of my skateboard. Raze slammed the door. He knew Lulu wouldn’t try again.

Raze was a nice guy, but he was also hardly ever wrong, unlike the other Ns. But what Raze didn’t know was that he’d just made history.

CHAPTER

3

D r. Kemf wasn’t the mayor, but he might as well be. Mayor AAA, the mayor of New York City, was most superior—hence his three last letters. But Dr. Kemf was completely different. Sure, he did what Mayor AAA told him to do, but Dr. Kemf determined how the world functioned. When someone came up with a theory on their own (UTheory), a theory they’d formulated with other people’s help (DoubleTheory), or a theory taken from someone else (Restate Theory), Dr. Kemf confirmed if the theory were right or wrong. He was why people lived safely every day. Though some of his confirmations were questionable, Dr. Kemf’s research was undeniably thorough. He looked deep into books, politics, and ideas from years and years ago.

After Lulu’s visit, Raze had been left alone for about an hour. He studied for a few hours and then slept for a few more. He never did get around to reading his book since his parents came home early.

Raze had a brilliant mind, and he knew his HELPTRON didn’t have the answer to everything, no matter what Mayor AAA claimed. One day after school, Raze searched through his dad’s collection of papers and found some hidden books. Raze had no idea what the books were at first, and neither did his HELPTRON. The books actually helped Raze’s eyes for a while and soothed his pain. But as the school days went on, the red built up in his eyes again.

Raze stepped out of his apartment the next morning, got on an FB, and immediately got mobbed by flying Pads. They came at him from every angle, as if he were one of the members of WBE.

I’m just trying to get to school! Raze exclaimed. You got the wrong guy!

But no matter what he did, Raze couldn’t seem to get out of the Pad’s way. Finally he restarted his FB and flew out of the crowd of Pads. As soon as he got to school, everyone’s eyes were locked on Raze. He was getting a little scared, especially since all the Bs were acknowledging his presence for a reason he did not know of.

As soon as everyone sat in a LearnChair, the screen turned on, showing an old man dressed in a suit. Teachers nowadays were required to teach from their homes because it was more efficient. Yes, it was because the teachers needed a little slack after reusing the same presentation over and over again and from standing all day. Dr. Kemf required the students to attend a physical building because he proved to the mayor that the kids needed fresh air and new environments at this stage in life. Smart man, in my opinion.

Welcome, class, to the School of Thought, where we change lives for the better through our youth. Man, I cannot begin to tell you how tiring that phrase gets after years and years of hearing it every morning.

Today we will begin with current events.

The whole class turned to Raze, who scowled and asked, What the hell did I do?

You have guts, man, a chubby kid said from the front.

"I will be reading this report from the Today program, which aired this morning, the teacher said from behind the screen. Yesterday we received some shocking information from New York Gritty. Lulu, Dr. Kemf’s assistant, was going door to door yesterday afternoon, interviewing young kids from NYG about a possible lab Dr. Kemf was going to build later this year. One particular kid refused to share information with Lulu. She was unable to encourage this boy to provide his input after two denials because he is just below eighteen.

"This boy,