“What do you mean? He didn’t just live—he took off. He was a principal with Alvin Ailey for, I don’t know, a decade, and is one of the most sought-after choreographers in the country.”

My eyes fill with tears. Oh my god, he did it.

“Chaz and Ernie are ASA’s biggest donors.”

She says their names the way one says, say, Barack-and-Michelle, and I gasp. “They’re still together?”

“Despite me telling them, separately of course, that no one should marry their high school sweetheart. They have defied the odds and I couldn’t be happier to be wrong.

“Frankly, that whole experience you all went through … it made me rethink what’s possible. You were only the second student who had ever come out to me and it was so soon after Ernie, I didn’t know what to make of it.” (Ernie was the first?) “That week changed me permanently. I unlearned some old notions and educated myself about what you boys were going through. From then on, I worked on every faculty member who would listen—a number that didn’t rise all that quickly, at least in those first years. When people started using the term ‘ally,’ I thought, ‘That’s just what Luis said I was.’ It’s been a little mission, really.

“We were the first school in the county with a GSA and the first to have gay couples at prom. And all because of you.”

I almost fall off my chair. “But—I mean—in my time—”

“Your time?” She looks amused.

Oh god, this is as tricky as figuring out past versus present. “In the old version of this time, same-sex dates were banned. That’s what I was coming to see you about when the beam wiped me out.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t even imagine. Inclusion is literally on the school letterhead.”

“They said it wasn’t safe … because of what happened to Chaz.” This earns a blank look, and I explain what was supposed to have happened and would have if I hadn’t shown up. “After the tragedy, everyone acted like they had to protect us from it for the rest of all time. I mean, seriously, Mom never let it go.”

“Really? That’s not like her at all. We host the GSA pizza party at your house every year.”

“We?” This is too much. “You hang out with Mom?”

“Of course, we hang out. She’s one of the only people on earth who knows what happened.”

Now I’m dizzy again. “How does Mom know?”

“She was so upset by your sudden disappearance. Ernie broke down and told her.”

“And she believed it?”