I Only Wanted A Class In The Apocalypse Chapter 3 - Finally Getting A Chance

"Are you alright?"

Someone appeared to be shaking my body. Instinctively, I gradually pried open my eyes, with the glaring sunlight overwhelming me.

"Ouch," I attempted to rise, only for sharp pain to ravage my entire frame.

"Easy there," a different voice rang out, "you just collapsed out of nowhere without any notice. You okay, buddy?"

I spun around to identify the speaker using such outdated slang, then went rigid.

"What the hell is that?" I stood amid a bunch of high school kids, apparently. Yet that wasn't what stunned me—it was the massive statue rising far off.

Without thinking, I shoved through them and dashed toward the edge, halted by a low concrete barrier.

"At least say thanks!" An irritated yell echoed behind me, but I ignored it completely. I remained utterly stunned by the majestic, pale green statue looming miles distant.

"This… is the Statue of Liberty… How in the world is this statue still upright?"

I had always revered this statue, just like the other ancient wonders and iconic landmarks from old Earth.

That statue got obliterated! I'd stake my life that it was. I still remembered that poster in my tiny room showing the mighty statue smashed flat, its torch embedded in the island soil.

"What are you doing here? First time in New York?"

I glanced back to find a girl about my age. She sported glasses and clutched several books. She seemed like a diligent type, much like myself.

"Excuse me," I said, sensing she might be reliable enough to question, "I'm a bit disoriented. What day is it today?"

"Quit joking around," she chuckled sweetly, treating my query like a prank, "that's an outdated pickup line, but I'll overlook it," she added, "it's June fifth. Want the year too?"

"Yes, please," I couldn't grasp why she found my earnest question amusing. But right before she replied, my gaze shifted.

A second wave of profound shock slammed my mind! Impossible! Utterly impossible!! The surrounding world looked serene and vibrant, full of life and cheer—a realm I'd only heard tales of, never witnessed.

Her response verified my suspicions.

"It's the year two thousand thirty," she stated, then giggled, "what's next? The time maybe?"

"Yes, please," I stared at her with the same gravity as earlier. Yet she laughed it off once more. Two cute dimples formed on her cheeks, highlighting the tiny black mole near the right edge of her lips, enhancing her charm.

Before responding, she tossed her long brown hair dramatically, as if displaying it, "Two P.M. Good time for a drink?"

Words failed me! Two P.M.!! In two thousand thirty… This defied reality.

"Slap!" Abruptly, I smacked my own cheek, suspecting the old man had pulled some prank with that red orb.

"Ouch, that stings," but only genuine pain registered.

"Hahaha, totally normal—you just whacked yourself," she burst into laughter, eyeing me curiously like some extraterrestrial, "you seem foreign. Where you from? Here for the Expo? World Cup? Wait, you look like a high schooler like me. Here for the global student forum?"

I stared blankly, at a loss for words. I'd heard of all those events. They explained the influx of nationalities in the US right before the apocalypse.

Simultaneously, they were prime factors behind this nation facing the fiercest assaults ever!

And here I was, smack in New York, among the US cities that suffered the worst, by universal consensus.

Under two hours remained before the apocalypse struck! Unbelievable, yet I was trapped in this spot and era, moments before the cataclysm that shattered the world and erased the civilization of legends from my era.

From the apocalypse's onset, fresh rules and norms would dominate. 'What the heck did you do to me, old man?' I clenched my fists, realizing this wasn't amusing—not one bit.

Who in their right mind would endure those grim times again?

'Hold on!' A sudden epiphany struck, 'if I'm here, then maybe…' I whirled about, surging with unexpected excitement from who-knows-where, '…I can claim my own class now?!!! I can overhaul my bleak past and forge a brighter path?!!! One brimming with promise and hope?!!!'

This revelation rocked me to the core, a dream I'd harbored yet deemed unattainable.

"Hey! I'm talking to you," her sudden punch snapped me back.

"That hurts!" I yelped, clutching my arm, "why'd you hit me?"

"You ignored me," she declared, as if her words demanded utmost attention, "where you headed? Meeting a group? Your friends maybe?"

"Yes, friends…" My thoughts raced into action before I continued, "I need to reach Central Park in under two hours. Far?"

"Central Park… not too distant," she pivoted, gesturing ahead, "a subway nearby gets us there fast."

"Subway!" Internally, dread gripped me at that dreaded term. From my readings, subways drew massive crowds during the apocalypse, seen as secure shelters.

By then, it was obvious knowledge. Subways could endure the global catastrophes.

But soon after, those refuges became death traps! I couldn't go there, even for quicker transit to Central Park.

Uncertainty lingered if the old man's actions altered the apocalypse timeline I recalled. I wouldn't gamble my life.

"No, no subway, please," I blurted, "let's… hold up, you coming along?"

Her face lit up with a radiant grin as she replied:

"I need to attend the big overseas student gathering," she explained, then added, "fine, let's walk. We've got about four hours till it starts. We can chat and enjoy ourselves till then."

Ignoring my input, she strode off in a specific direction. 'This girl… got a bold personality,' I thought, before she abruptly spun back, offering her hand:

"Forgot to introduce myself. Isabella Rocher, pleased to meet you."

"Hi…" I faltered, my mind blanking momentarily. "No freaking way!" Shock forced the outburst.

"Excuse me?!" She stared at me like I was insane, mirroring my old glares at the old man.

"Oh, sorry about that," I muttered an apology, wrestling my turbulent thoughts. Isabella Rocher—that name evaded history books. Yet the old man rambled about it in his wild rants.

Peering intently, she matched his depiction perfectly: a fierce, potent young woman with piercing eyes and those signature glasses he mentioned.

Even the little nevus at her mouth's right corner matched! She embodied the old legend that madman shared years back.

'Hold on… Don't say… He wasn't fabricating it all! He wasn't nuts!!' Shockwaves rippled inside as I walked quietly beside her.