Leeza says she’s going to be a singer. “New wave, cool stuff, none of that rock crap. My parents don’t think it’s realistic and I’m like: Watch me. I’m only going to college to appease them, but if I get my break before I’m done …” She shrugs. “When have I ever conformed to expectations?”

Chaz ribs her. “You’re just going to drop out of every school you can.”

“And probably date all the wrong men, too.” She doesn’t look upset at this prospect. She turns to me. “When you tried to tell me to stay away from Andrew, I was working hard to really believe in him, but, you know, I think I just wanted to have an excuse to keep fooling around. Sue me; I liked it.”

Chaz and I both go “Ewwww” at the same time, and she fires back. “Not everyone is a bad kisser, boys!” (I so need to make sure I get her contact info before she leaves because there is no way I’m letting her live the rest of her life thinking the only problem with their affair was him not standing up for her.)

Ma Elena has reached her threshold. “Please, don’t say more!” Trying to get that image of her head, she points out that I never answered her question about the future.

Ten years from now or from my time? 1995 or 2030? I can’t say “I hope to exist” (though I do), and the careers that interest me (high end: Netflix series showrunner; low end: YouTube influencer) haven’t been invented. “Um. I guess … I hope you’ll remember me.”

“That’s not a career!” Mom will say that exact thing to me when I tell her I want to be an influencer in the future. “It’s sweet of you to say, but you must have plans.”

Who knows why I decide to just tell the truth … again. “Um. Here’s the thing. I keep trying to tell you all … I’m not Ms. Silverthorn’s nephew. I’m her student, in another time. I really did come here by accident from the future.”

Chaz has heard this before. “Yeah, yeah. We know.”

“I don’t know how to get back, but we’re hoping there’s like a time slip or something …” It occurs to me that today is Monday, and if the slip occurs at the same moment it did last week, I should really be out on the field and not here, and that maybe I’ve already missed my window.

“Like Connecticut Yankee?” Ma Elena gasps. “Is that why we’re reading it?” (Hmmm. Is it? Is this a causal loop thing?)

Chaz laughs. “Yes, Ms. Silverthorn has us reading it because it’s all true, and she wants the new time traveler in class to feel welcome.”