“If it’s him you’re tethered to, then whenever you think of him or have an emotional response to something, you can travel to him. It’s like an express highway in time that leads to him. At any time in his existence. All you need to do is think about him, and”—Blake snaps—“you’re there.”

I try to remember anything about Michael that jumps out to me. He’s a bit broken but charming. He seems unmoored but smart and brave. He seems like the type of guy I could see doing great things in his life, if he works at it—but connected? Us?

“It feels like you jumped to that conclusion without enough evidence.”

“Spoken like a scientist.” Blake grins. “Try it. The next time you want to jump somewhere intentionally, focus on him, and see what happens. That’ll prove what you’re tethered to.

“A tether is also your default. It’s like…your lifeline. If you jump in a panic, and you need someplace safe to be, that’s your home base. It’s a rare thing, being bound to someone, but it can happen.”

“How rare?”

Blake shrugs. “The only person I know who was also tethered was Dave.” He hesitates again but recovers quickly. “But he was tethered to someone inside of our family.”

“Maybe I’m able to tether because he did, and I have his organ?”

Blake shrugs. “Maybe. Time travelers are obsessed with tethers, though. You’re unique for being able to do it.”

Questions brew inside of me. Blake knows a lot about time travel but has never managed a jump himself. It’s like he’s on the edge of the conversation, absorbing it all, but never inserting himself inside of it. Like how a moon orbits a planet.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any genetic connection to whomever you’re jumping to, would you? This Michael guy?”

I shake my head.

“You sure?”

“Considering he’s as white as snow, yeah, I’m sure.”

“That technically doesn’t—”

I arch a brow. “Are you about to school me on race theory right now?”

“Point taken.” A beat passes before Blake speaks again. “Maybe it’s something to do with your house?”

“It’s just a house,” I counter.

“You’d be surprised what type of energy some locations can hold. Ley lines are real, but that’s a conversation for another day.”

Blake walks around the desk and moves to stand close to me—like, really close.

“Stand up, will you?” he asks.

Without hesitation, like his voice is some sort of lure, I do. He smiles that boyish grin that I’m sure makes the girls at Hutcherson weak in the knees.

“You’ll forgive me for this.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know how people say, ‘Don’t think about elephants,’ and then that’s all you can think about?”

I nod slowly, hesitantly.

“Don’t think about Michael.”