Again, But Better(70)

I open my mouth and look up at Pilot. “I’m freaking out over here.”

He meets my eyes. “Understatement of the decade.”

The waiter returns. “Can I take your orders?”

I swallow and give him my Byron usual: burger and a milkshake.

“Byron burger and a chocolate milkshake,” Pilot adds solemnly. The waiter leaves with our orders.

I look up at Pilot again. “So, do you think—”

“I don’t know what I think.”

“Do you think—? I don’t really want to say it out loud.”

The smallest of smiles flickers across Pilot’s lips before they fall back into a blank expression.

He looks at the table. “That’s insane.”

“I agree.”

“It can’t be happening.”

“It can’t.”

“Do you think that’s what’s happening?”

“It feels like it might be.”

“But how could that happen?”

“I…” My brain struggles to put together a logical response, but the only explanations springing to mind are Harry Potter–related. “Mag … ic?”

“You think someone wizarded us back here?” he says in his high-pitched voice.

“You have a better theory?”

“Could we have gone through a wormhole?”

“Magic is more plausible than a wormhole,” I argue.

“Wormholes are scientific.”

“Magic is just science we don’t understand yet.”

“Shane, it’s magic; that’s why we can’t understand it.”

“Hogwarts could be real!”

“I can’t believe this is a serious conversation I’m having.” There’s a shade of humor in his voice, but he drops his head back into his hands.

The waiter returns with our milkshakes. I pull mine forward and take a sip: delicious. I savor it for a moment before engaging again. Pilot’s ignoring his own milkshake and now has his head pressed directly against the table.

“Could the elevator have been, like, a time machine?” I sound absurd.

“We didn’t tell it to go anywhere. It was stuck,” he mumbles into the faux wood.

“An involuntary time machine?”

Pilot stays silent.

“You should try the milkshake. It’s really good,” I encourage him.

He lifts his head from the table and takes a sip of the milkshake without making eye contact.

In a quiet voice, I add, “Do you think maybe we need to find our spirit guide?”

“Are you really thinking about 17 Again right now?”

“Were you thinking that too?”

“God, this is so bizarre.” His gaze falls back to the table. He’s not making eye contact with me for more than a few seconds at time. I direct my gaze at the table too. Table, do you know what’s going on? Tell us your secrets!

“Do you want to eat and then maybe look for someone who would maybe be our spirit guide?” I say as seriously as I can manage.

“That sounds like a ridiculous plan,” he deadpans, and takes another sip of his milkshake, “but okay.”

Our waiter returns right on cue with our burgers. My mind spins while we eat. I’ve thought about going back and doing study abroad again so many times. So many. But I never imagined what it’d be like if it actually happened. Does everything just start over from here? Will I be redoing my entire life from this point onward? A jittery feeling settles over me. This is horrifying, but also a little thrilling.

“Oh shit,” I blurt out suddenly.

“What?” Pilot responds with concern.

“I don’t have any money on me!” I whisper.

“Shit,” Pilot pats his pockets. His face relaxes as he pulls out a wallet. “My old wallet is just chilling in my pocket.”

I lean back against the seat. “Thank god.” The last thing I want to do right now is dine and dash.

“Maybe my old purse is back in the kitchen near my old computer? Jeez.” I press my head into my hands for a second. “This is so weird.”

When we’re finished with our burgers, we sit in silence until someone finally comes over with the check. It’s a redheaded lady this time. Wearing a waitress outfit.

I do a double take as she puts the check on our table and quickly retreats.

“Are you kidding me?” I yelp in disbelief. I spring from the table and fumble after her.

“What is it?” I hear Pilot call after me.

The woman has stopped at a table with two older people at the back of the room. The room is divided into two different tiers, and I almost go flying as I fall up the four steps into the second tier. But I save myself, twisting in an unstable circle, and jump to a standstill beside her.

“What is going on?” I blurt in disbelief. She doesn’t look at me, just continues talking to the table she’s waiting on.

Pilot stops short next to me. “Shane!”

I nudge him in the side and angle my head toward the waitress. He surveys her quizzically.

“I recommend the Byron Burger,” Potential Spirit Guide concludes before turning to look at me. I take in a breath to speak, but she beats me to the punch. “Now, dear, there was no need to run after me. I’ll be back at your table in a moment to speak with you two.”