Above us, the sky is crazy beautiful. I mean, Antic Springs isn’t a metropolis in my time, but it’s a lot more developed then than it is here in 1985, where there aren’t even streetlights. So I’m not used to seeing the stars I love quite this clearly. The contrast of brilliant white blinking against the deepest black makes the heavens feel more immediate. I’m half-convinced that if I reached out to touch the Big Dipper, I could.

“I saw Vin Weasel—”

“Who?”

“Vinnie. I saw Vinnie and some other kid sneaking back in. Does everybody do it?”

“No, most of these kids are too angelic or too scared of being caught. But, come on, we’re at like the most hormonal age we’ll ever be. They should be glad we let off steam before—”

“Before someone goes postal!” I complete her thought.

“What?” She laughs. Apparently, I am not completing her thought. “Is that a Connecticut thing?” (Honestly, I don’t know. It’s older than me for sure, and it’s something you just say.)

Leeza takes a drag on her cigarette and it’s long enough that I can so tell it’s a segue to something. I was hoping the sneaking out was just to be cool and to bond with a new friend, but maybe there’s an agenda.

“So you think Chaz is gay?” Her question is not casual.

That I wasn’t expecting. I’ve heard about the ’80s, how gay people were just starting to get a little freedom, then AIDS made everybody treat them like crap. (Later, being treated like crap won them sympathy, but that was in the ’90s, which this is not.) I don’t want to make his life harder—I just want him to be happy.

She lets me off the hook. “I mean, I wondered too.” Another drag and then a long plume of smoke. “I’m not sure he knows, though.”

“I’m pretty sure he knows,” I say quietly. We all know. Our bodies tell us things, sometimes really nakedly—an erection watching the lacrosse team—sometimes more subtly. “But knowing may be its own problem. Maybe he works really hard to not know.”

“Right? Like, what’s Tawny about?”

I pause to think about that for a minute. Maybe I shouldn’t be so knee-jerk. “He could be bi. Or pretty much gay, but really into Tawny specifically.” Other options start floating to mind. “Maybe he’s ace. Or we think he’s gay because he’s a little femme, but he’s really just genderqueer, and we’re boxing him with our cisnormative—”

“Stop!” She’s choking with laughter and expelling smoke. “You’re just teasing me now. Making up words.” Shaking her curls, she looks me in the eye. “I’ve been to Connecticut. Nobody talks like that.”

“Fine. You got me.” Why not go for it? “I’m from the future.”