I remembered having them, just like I remembered my first period, just like I remembered having a penis, just like I remembered the first time I saw a real live one in this world, and remembered thinking it looked like a wrinkled old man with a big nose. If we guys knew what we girls thought about our junk, we’d be far less impressed with ourselves.

Knowing Layton wouldn’t leave, I steeled myself to go downstairs. But there were a few things I needed to do first.

I checked my texts to see who was in my list of friends. There was Katie, and a few girls from cheer. There were also the names of a few classmates I knew in this world, but not in the others. Hunter and my mom were there, but not my dad. The names I was looking for weren’t showing up, and anxiety began to blossom. Then finally Paul made an appearance in the list as I scrolled further down.

The last text from him was three weeks ago. Running late, the old text said. I won’t charge for any time I miss.

So he was back to being my math tutor. That bruise hurt more than the one in my side, but it was comforting to know that at least he was still here. I had no indication about Leo, though. As I said, Leo was not a texter. Was he still in jail in this world? Was he in this world at all?

One thing at a time, I told myself. I had to put one foot in front of the other, red toenails and all.

I got dressed. My wardrobe reflected who I was here. I was a little bit lacey and a little bit leathery. I had some things that sparkled, but not all that much. I liked pastels over bright colors, but, like Angela, lavender was the closest I got to pink. Each outfit brought back a memory—either of when I bought it or a time I had worn it. This gown I wore to my sweet sixteen. That blouse I wore on my first date with Layton. That skirt—no, I’m not going to think about that skirt. I’m not going to think about it at all.

I shut the closet door and took a few deep cleansing breaths. I’m a girl. So? I told myself. If this was it—if this is how I ended up leaving things—I would adapt. Because if there was anything I had learned in my wild interdimensional travels, it was that there was a playbook for everything. Besides, I was less troubled by how this left me than how it left others.