That, Isla has to see. But before we can commence with our experiment, my mother comes home and when the lasagne is ready, we eat it in the living room. Spending the day on a terrace caused my leg to swell a bit, so for now it has to stay up.

After dinner we go back to my temporary room and I pick up the first book I see. It's Jane Austen.

"And what, you just vanish? When you open the book?"

"Shh, don't talk so loud, my mum's next door." I sit on my bed. "I'm not sure if I actually disappear, because I can't see myself and it doesn't work when someone else is in the room."

"You can record yourself, have you tried that?"

Surprised I look at my friend. "No, that's a good idea. I'll try that sometime, not right now. Shall I get a dress? Or something smaller, that's easier."

Isla still watches me as if I'm about to pull a prank on her.

"You have to wait outside, or else it won't work. I'll call you when I'm back, won't take long, alright?"

With a shrug, she leaves the room. I hear her say something to my mother about getting something to drink and I open the book.

I appear in the same spot I was in two days ago. My eyes roam around the room, but except for Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, there's nobody there. Of course not. I jump up from the sofa, search the room and then suddenly flash back.

The door opens ajar and when Isla peaks around the corner I yell: "You have to wait outside, it won't work that way. The door has to remain shut."

She widens her eyes, makes a face and closes the door.

With a sigh I refocus on the letters and flash, there I go again. This time I grab the first thing I see and say the exit-words.

"Isla, you can come in."

The door opens right away and with a sullen look, Isla carries two glasses juice inside. She stiffens when she sees me standing in the middle of the room, with in my one hand the book and in the other a newspaper.

"Where did you get that?"

"From the book", I laugh triumphant.

The newspaper is a good catch, for not only did I not have one in my room earlier, but it's also a newspaper from Jane Austen's time. The year 1813 is in the upper right corner.

Slowly I see Isla's expression change. She can't really comprehend it yet, but the 'proof' I took couldn't possibly have been in my room. Unless she thinks I staged it all.

"I can get something else if you want. Whatever you choose. I've been in Charlie's chocolate factory."

"With all the candy?" Her eyes begin to shine and utterly relieved I burst out laughing.

"Wow." With the newspaper still in her hands, Isla plops down next to me on the bed. "This is freaky. But ... you never read, not even in front of others. Like you were allergic to books. That wasn't necessary, right?"

"No, true. But I didn't know that back then. I thought I would disappear in all books, even if I only read one word. Not until I had to read the little booklet you forced me to borrow," I grin, "did I find out it couldn't happen with others around. Man, the trouble I could have saved myself, had I known sooner."

Isla is still staring at the newspaper. "Hey, here is the message that Mr. Bingley rented Netherfield Park. Oh I can't wait to show this to the girls."

"No!" I cry at once. "You can't tell anyone. Promise me."

Isla is a little disappointed, but she obediently nods. "I promise. Too bad, but you're right. But ... you said Sorley can do it too?"

I feel my cheeks heat up. "Yeah, I met him in the booklet I took from the library. Oh, I owe you money for that, because I said I lost it, but it's actually here, of course."

"Oh, no matter. I thought it was strange for you. I really thought you would return it the same day."

I take the booklet out of the drawer of the ugly night stand and lightly brush my fingers over the linen. In a muffled tone I tell: "At first I thought he was part of the book. He was wearing period clothing and said he worked there. He's a paper walker too. It wasn't till later, when I hurt my hand, that things didn't seem to add up. And then I found out."

"You hurt your hand inside the book? That's possible? Kind of dangerous."

"Well, no, actually you can't. Do you know my leg isn't broken inside a book? The cast is still on, but the pain is gone. I fell down a horse once and it didn't hurt at all. But my hand did and that didn't make sense. It turned out he had brought the knife from home and with that knife I could hurt myself."

My smile disappears when I think back to that moment. "He left his book to get me bandages and that's how he lost a friend. You see, when you get out of the book, everybody in there forgets you even exist. You can get back into the story, but they no longer know you. Like everything reset."

"Aw, that is so sad."

I nod and then giggle: "At first I thought he was gay. He was so heartbroken about losing his friend and he read a lot and he's really handsome. Do you know what he did when I told him?"

"He denied it?"

"Yes, but he also kissed me."

"What?"

I place my hand over her mouth and bite my lip.

Now whispering Isla repeats: "What? Really? Sooo romantic. But ... that was inside the book?"

Nodding I say: "We meet each other in books. When we get into the same one, at the same time, we're there together."

"Wow."

"But it's not the same as the real thing", I mumble. I put the books in my hands aside and pull the newspaper from Isla's hands. Then I grab those hands and plead: "Isla, you have to help me, I want to go to him this summer and my parents can't know."

"Go to him? How?"

"Well, on a plane, of course. I have his address and plenty of money. Dad once mailed me a credit card I can use in case of an emergency. He didn't want mum to know, so I hid it. I don't have to use it, but it helps to have it with me. Will you help me?"

"Of course, but what do you want me to do? I can't come with you."

"No, you don't have to", I quickly say. "You only have to pretend I'm here. Just come stay here when mum goes away to that seminar. When ever she calls, you can simply say I'm out for the moment."

Isla is totally up for my secret plan. "How long will you stay there?"

"A week, I hope. I want it to be a surprise." The look in his eyes when I mentioned visiting, comes to mind and for a moment I doubt. What if he really doesn't want to see me?Oh well, worst case scenario is: I come straight back home. Yet I can't imagine that happening.

"Do you need a passport? An ID's probably not enough."

I tell her what I found out so far and a minute later our noses are behind my laptop.

"Hey, are you allowed to fly with your cast?"

"That's a good one, let me check." I type the query in Google.

"Oh, not with this cast, apparently. But we can fix that right before I leave. I'll get it wet, accidentally", I make hooks with my fingers, "and ask for a new one that I can fly with." I read what it says in the pdf-file: 'A splint, brace or removable cast.' To get it by that time shouldn't be a problem."

"When is your ma leaving?"

"In five weeks. I'll be nearly done with the cast then anyway, so it'll be fine."

We enjoy ourselves the rest of the evening with planning the exact route I have to take and check where I get the cheapest tickets. When I tell her about the note with my mothers signature, Isla pats my arm. "Leave that to me, I'm a master forger."

---

Because Sorley is unavailable the rest of the week – he doesn't even respond to texts – I'm bored out of my skull. Thursday afternoon Isla's boyfriend drives us to City Hall where I request a passport. Isla is indeed freakishly good in copying signatures and because I've needed copies of my parents passports before, those aren't a problem.

It's not until Saturday evening that I receive a sign of life from Sorley and not long after, we find ourselves side by side on a bench facing a large lake. Acting on impulse, I jump up and sling my arms around his neck. It's a bit tricky, because he's still sitting down. However he bursts out laughing, pulls me in his lap and all of a sudden he's kissing me.

A surge of warmth spreads through my body from my lips to the tips of my toes. I'm so glad everything is still okay between us, I mumble against his lips, when we part a little to breathe: "I've missed you."

He wipes my hair from my face and gives me a smile that makes my organs melt. "Me too." He kisses me again and then moves back to look at me.

"How was your family?" I ask.

"Fine, busy", he answers, a bit superficial. "And you? Read any books?"

I put the subject family in my line of 'forbidden subjects' and shake my head. "No, I didn't feel like it without you. I've been out with Isla." I don't tell him whereto, only mention the beach.

"Oh, I'm jealous, we don't have a beach."

"But you have mountains."

Because I'm still on his lap and the butterflies are having a contest for hardest flutterer, I look around to distract myself a little. We're in a park and all around us families are walking, children playing and couples lying down on rugs beneath shady trees. An elderly couple nearby, is staring dreamily in the distance. I think they are the main characters in this story. Perhaps we are sitting on their bench. That makes me happy. As if we can share in the permanence of their relationship, this way. Both Sorley and I don't have bright examples in that area.

The lake is large enough for boats to sail on, could we do that? Before I can voice my thought, Sorley calls my name. "Zara?"

I turn around and wait. His lips do that funny pout-thing again and block my thoughts, until the silence lasts a little too long and I look up. He's not looking in my eyes, but staring at a spot somewhere in the middle.

"Yes?" I encourage him softly.

As if he awakens from a deep trance, he briefly shakes his head and focuses his gaze.

"No, never mind. Do you want to walk around?"

Should I push the subject? I don't. I'm too afraid he'll leave and make me wait another week before I hear from him again. Or he'll stay away for good. I paste a smile on my face and nod.

"Pff, it feels so good to be able to walk without pain", I comment, when we stroll alongside the lake. The plaster still is a hindrance to my leg, but it makes so much difference that I don't feel the fracture.

"Mmm", Sorley hums besides me, as if he know exactly what I mean. How much would his back have bothered him after the accident? The idea is awful. He ended up in a hospital, maybe he was knocked unconscious and woke up there. And then not only he had to hear his parents died, but was also in so much pain.

Laughter and screams from children playing a little further down, suddenly seem a bit misplaced. I probably shouldn't think about it too much.

I look back, to the old couple that now sits on the bench and smile. That's how it's suppose to be, right? Growing old together and enjoying life. It strengthens my decision to go to America. If Sorley doesn't want to tell me what's wrong, I'll ask him in his face. When he can't escape.

We manage to get a hold of a small boat on the other side of the lake and after a while I admire his muscled arms when he rows. I'm already looking forward telling Isla about that.

Because we're not doing anything to advance the story, I have no idea what time it is when we say goodbye. This time it's Sorley that pulls me in his arms and with a blissful smile I get back in my room after saying the exit-words.

---

The days I spend with Sorley in books, fly past. The days one of us is unable, last forever. On Monday my mother works at home under the guise of motherly responsibility and on Wednesday Sorley texts he has to go shopping with his grandma. Apparently that takes a whole day in America.

Before I know it, summer vacation arrives and Isla spends about every day over. I tell her all about my adventures and because of the eight hour time difference, I don't start to get restless until two o'clock. Filming myself didn't yield any result. The forcefield creates some sort of interference, because the only thing we saw was me on my bed, then nothing, until the storage on my phone was full and the recording ended.

Together with her boyfriend we pick up my new passport and also the tickets and the ESTA arrived over the mail. So nice you can do almost everything online. In my mothers name, Isla writes a decent letter explaining the reason for my visit to America: a visit to friends, both addresses, a phone number – hers – and a signature. Hopefully I won't need it, but according to tips on the internet it is good to have it, being a minor.

I can get into so much trouble when someone ever finds out the note is forged. It's a good thing I could fill out the questionnaire for the ESTA completely truthful.

The tickets cost a fortune, but I'd rather not think about it. This is more important than saving money for when I do or don't need a room one day. I'll get a job next year, then I'll have it back in no time.

My flight leaves Saturday, after my mum is gone, and I have to transfer once in Atlanta. When we find out where that is, Isla swoons and yells: "It's near Florida. Oh I wish I could go with you and stay there when you continue."

"Near?" I measure the space between Atlanta in the state of Georgia and the state of Florida and move the map with a little effort until I can trace the same distance over the Netherlands. "It's more than this whole country. Not exactly nearby."

"Oh, well, it seemed closer. Wow hey, is it really a fourteen hour flight?"

"Yeah", I moan, hiding my face in my hands. Sorley, you'd better be worth it.

"What are you gonna do the whole time?"

"Sleep, I hope. And read, I'm taking my e-reader."

I made a list of what I have to take with me and Isla lends me her little suitcase. It's just small enough to take as carry-on. Saves me waiting in line and freaking out over the pick-up conveyor belt. At Sorley's place I can surely wash if I have to and the weather is the same as over here, so I can take summer clothing.

Because I don't want to risk anything, I plan a trip to the beach a week before the flight and there I get, totally accidental, my plaster wet. In the hospital I tell about my travel plans and after an X-ray, which shows the breach is healing nicely, I get a removable cast and a flyer with information.

When my mother sees that in stead of my earlier purple leg, I now have an army-pattern one with white Velcro strips, I explain this is much easier for taking a shower. And this way I won't get trouble at the beach again.

The closer the day of my journey gets, the more difficult I fall asleep at night and it is almost impossible to stay calm around Sorley. If he does suspect anything due to my restlessness, he's not showing it. He only asks, the night after I got my new cast, whether it could come off earlier, because I took it off before I went in the book.