After practice the next afternoon, I went over to Leo’s with Paul, to bring him in on the plan.

“I don’t know about this,” Leo said.

“It’s going to get people’s attention,” Paul pointed out.

“What makes you think we want people’s attention?”

We were sitting at Leo’s kitchen table, talking about the dance, with him and his girlfriend, Cerise. Cerise—who didn’t dump him from 37,000 feet here. She never moved away, because here, her family had nowhere to go. I could say that Cerise and Leo still being together was one good thing, but a dime in a barrel of shit didn’t change the nature of the barrel.

“The whole thing does sound a little risky . . . ,” Cerise said.

“It’s going to be fine,” I told them.

“Easy for you to say,” said Leo. “You’re not the ones gonna get shot at.”

I was about to deny the possibility, but I stopped myself. Even though we were in the same universe, my reality was not Leo’s reality. That was something he had always tried to get across to me.

Paul tried to hide his frustration. I put my hand on his and clasped it. I had to remember that Paul was three layers deep in this world. He had even less understanding of what it meant to be Black in America than he would have in my original world.

“We won’t put you or any of your friends in danger,” I told Leo and Cerise.

“You can’t promise that,” said Leo.

“No,” agreed Paul, “but I can put our decorations budget into hiring security instead.” Which he could definitely do, as he was in charge of finances.

“And what about when there are no rent-a-cops, and no witnesses?” Leo asked. “Like the next day, or the day after that?”

“You’re right,” I said. “The risk is on you, not on us.”

“Which is why anything we do needs to be on our terms,” Leo said. “Not some harebrained scheme cooked up by a bunch of white kids.”

And then, in the silence that followed, Cerise tried to temper Leo’s harsh judgment. “Of course, I do like a good dance,” she said.

He threw her a look. “Girl, how come you never got my back?”

“I do. Sometimes it just needs a nice scratch.” She ran her nails up his spine, and that brought him down like a puppy. “We’ll ask around,” Cerise said. “See if anyone’s interested. No promises.”

Leo’s mom arrived home with groceries, and while Paul and Cerise went to help her, I showed Leo the list of names I’d been making. He checked off the ones he knew. I was relieved by each check mark, and troubled by the ones left blank.

“Is this even gonna happen, Ash?” he asked. “Because if you do that thing you’re supposed to do . . .”