“I’m not mad.”
“You sound mad.”
“I’m disappointed.”
Another silence.
Then Ethan asked,
“Were you smart yesterday?”
I sat down on the floor beside my dorm bed.
“I guess.”
“Did the paper go back in time?”
“What?”
“Did the C+ make yesterday disappear?”
I smiled.
“No.”
“Then you’re still smart.”
I looked toward my desk.
The two broken pieces of the wooden ruler sat beside my laptop.
I’d brought them with me.
I had considered gluing them together.
Ethan made me promise I wouldn’t.
“You’re annoyingly good at this,” I said.
“I know.”
I laughed.
Then he asked, “Coming home this weekend?”
“I have studying.”
“Next weekend?”
“Maybe.”
“Claire.”
“What?”
“Don’t make me use the compass.”
I laughed.
“I’ll come Saturday.”
“Bring fries.”
“Buy your own fries.”
“You have college money.”
“That is absolutely not what college money means.”
“Saturday.”
“Saturday.”
And I came home.
Of course I did.
Years have passed since that night.
