“I don’t know!”

Ben smiles. His favorite words.

I shake my head. “I have felt everything, everything on the human emotional spectrum in the past seven weeks. I can’t … I just—”

Ben pulls me farther into the corner as a group of people push through the tiny space. Someone turns up the music and turns down the lights. He has to shout over the Arctic Monkeys.

“Mae, I’d like to join your crew. Now, before you say, no, no, you’re a geophysicist, and we don’t need a geophysicist, hear me out. Every team needs a mission specialist. And I am specialized. I didn’t realize this until, well, until I met you, but I have been training long and hard to be your person.”

“My person?”

He couldn’t know. What Mom said to me at the yoga studio. Did you hear him, Mom? DID YOU HEAR THAT?

I stare at him. Stare and stare. How, HOW is this possible? It’s like … magic. This is completely unscientific.

He nods. “Your person. I believe that as a member of your crew, I can help you on your mission—which is, you know, life—not just with copious amounts of free caffeine and meditation instruction and other—er—fringe benefits, but because of … quantum mechanics.”

“Ben. Are you trying to convince me to be your … person … on the basis of quantum mechanics?”

Because, if so, I am a goner.

“Yes.”

Goner. Pilot down.

“So, you’re familiar with Werner Heisenberg?” he says.

Mom, my person. Did I find him, is he my person? Because my person would know who Heisenberg is. Tell Dad. Tell him to come quick and LISTEN TO THIS, OH MY GOD.

“Yes,” I say. “I’m a fan.”

I look everywhere but at Ben, because it is not safe, categorically NOT SAFE, to look at Ben.

“You seem distracted.”

“I’m not…” I look at him. Oh.

This is what it will feel like, I think, to have my hand on the parachute lever in a plane that’s going down, to be about to pull when I suddenly figure out what’s wrong and recover. I won’t need that parachute after all.

“There you are,” he murmurs.

“Here I am.”

Not in the future. Not in the past. I’m in the now.

It’s nice here. I might stay awhile.

“Tell me about Heisenberg,” I say.

“Okay.” His eyes catch the light above, fill with little sparks. “So you know how Heisenberg was dealing with the nature of reality and how the quantum world is the Wild West of reality since not all the usual rules apply and how basically he was all like, guess what, electrons only exist when they’re interacting with something else, right? And when nothing is disturbing the electron—trying to get it to go to a meditation class, for example—then it’s not in any place at all.”