I don’t get out of bed right away. I am in Ms. Silverthorn’s guest room, a snug nest of jewel-toned fabric. She has drawn the blackout blinds so I could rest, and only a sliver of light sneaks in. I could stay here forever, and maybe I will—after what happened, who knows what the rules will be?

Last night changed what I think happened to Chaz in the other timeline, the one in which I never landed here. I traveled across time to save him from loneliness, only to find that hate always finds a way. In the end, I just shared the blow.

But he’s alive. That’s not a small difference. So sharing the blow was everything.

He wasn’t alone because he had me; I wasn’t alone because he went to get Ernie and Ma Elena. We’re not alone now because Ms. Silverthorn said there was no chance we were going back to the dorm until we knew what happened to Gordo. Having a crew who knows you as you are and still stands by you—oh my god. I took it for granted, but I never will again.

Tap tap tap.

“Hold on a sec. Getting dressed.” I look at the wreckage of my prom outfit—no chance of me ever touching any of it again. Next to it, a pile of clothes has appeared.

I start laughing when I approach it. They’re Ernie’s. The sweet fool has brought me clean clothes to wear, but not my own. I am grateful no one from my time will see me wearing a T-shirt emblazoned with a Tetris screen and tan corduroy pants. (Or smell me, in my secondhand Brut.)

When I open the door, I’m surprised to see not Ms. Silverthorn but Chaz. And he has suffered the same fashion fate as me, which is even funnier because he has a good three inches on Ernie. His Ms. Pac Man shirt is actually cute, partly because it barely reaches his waist, so it almost counts as a crop top. There’s no ignoring the ugliness of the pale Wrangler jeans, loose at the waist and high-water length, which he has tried to fold to pretend they are pegged and ended up creating the capris of your nightmares.

“Some things belong in a closet,” I joke, and discover it hurts to speak. My jaw is so stiff and tight; I think I may have been gritting my teeth all night.

Chaz hugs me, and it’s not romantic—it’s a hug only your closest friends can deliver. We stand in the hallway a long time, just like that, and instead of missing my future world, I am grateful for the embrace I am in right now.