He continues to slide his finger back and forth until it starts to tickle a little.
I giggle and slap his hand playfully. “What’re you doing? That tickles. Get to the point. Tell me that something important. I have something important to tell you too.”
His fingers stop, resting where they are, hitched to my underwear. He rubs his other hand down his face, shaking his head out at the same time. “You understand what I do for my job, right, Jules?”
I shrug. “Sure, you’re a coder or something, right? Freelance?”
“Something like that. I take jobs here and there. But more recently, I took a gig with a company that has been doing some really interesting research.”
“Research?”
“Yes, about . . . this will sound crazy, but research about the universe. More specifically, the multiverses.”
“Oh . . .” I whisper because I’m already mighty familiar with that kind of company.
“Anyway, I’ve been working on code for them to . . . find something. Locate something nearby. And other things all over the world.”
“What are you talking about? Find what? Locate what?” But from my own work, I already have an alarming idea of what he’s referring to.
Mack pulls his hand from my hip and rests his hands in his lap. “Portals.”
That catches my attention. “Portals? Like portals through the multiverse?”
He tilts his head. “Yes, how did you know?”
I shrug. “I might be a little familiar with the company you work for. In fact, I might work for them too.”
“Really? I had no idea you wrote code.”
“I don’t. I write copy. Which makes a hell of a lot more sense than what you’re talking about. How can you write code to find portals? How is it even possible?”
“It’s complicated. It’s kind of like The Matrix, actually. And I’ve been getting so close lately to answers, but I’ve been struggling. I’ve written so many goddamn lines of code at this point that I dream about it, see it on the back of my eyelids when I close my eyes. But no luck. There’s always a bug in the code. Every time.”
I can feel he’s leading up to something, so cautiously, I speak again. “Okay . . .”
“But last night, I finally did it. I had a breakthrough. I had some crazy clarity, and it was like my brain was functioning on a whole other level, like I was seeing straight for the first time in my entire life. And I worked out the bug. And I was able to use the code to identify a portal location. Potentially, at least. The first one ever located. That I know of, of course.”
“Okay . . .” I repeat, but my voice is higher pitched now, alarm bells ringing in my head. What is he implying?
“And it’s twenty miles away. Right off Station 22, directly past the No Swimming sign and then a hundred meters in.”
“What?” I scoff. “A portal to another universe? Twenty miles away. So—so, what are you getting at? What’s that have to do with you? Or me? Or us? Or anyone?” Although my stomach is sinking because I think I do know what he’s getting at.
He scratches his head, sighs a little, then glances up at me. “I’ve been having dreams, Jules. Visions, almost. The same dreams that inspired this whole place. I’ve been seeing it when I close my eyes.”
“So? So you have a really active imagination? Some of us are just like that. It’s the whole reason why I have terrible anxiety.”
He shakes his head. “This is different. It’s like I’m receiving a message from the universe. Clear as day and as loud as a blow horn. I think I’m supposed to go to the portal. I think maybe . . . this?” He waves his hand down his body. “This change that I went through? It’s because I don’t belong here anymore. This isn’t the world I was meant to thrive inside of. It’s the universe’s way of letting me know that it’s time I move on.”
“But . . . but what about your parents? Your dad? Your sister?”
Me? What about me?
His voice gets quiet. “Yeah. I know. But I can’t live in this small bubble anymore. I can’t suffer just for them. Hide away for the comfort of others.”
I run my hands through my hair. He’s not looking at me. I can only see his profile against the dead of night, his severe cheekbones and the sharp point of the fins on his ear . . . the long fins that frame his chin . . . I shake my head. I say it anyway.“And me? What about me?”
I feel like I don’t deserve to ask the question.
But the question has to be asked.
He puts his head in his hand. “You? I love you.”
“And you want to leave.” My voice is accusatory now. “And not just leave but like leave leave. You don’t want to just move to Arizona or something. You want to leave the universe. We would never see each other again.”
There’s a beat before he answers again. “You could come with me.”
My eyes go wide. “What?”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s not right for me to even put the idea out there. It’s too much to ask of anyone. It’s not your fault that I am the way I am. In fact, I’ve been thinking about it. And you’re better off without me. I think we both know it.”
“No,” I whisper softly, shaking my head, a desperate plea in my voice. “No, you can’t . . . no, you can’t say that.” But how do I convince him? “I have to ask you something. Can I ask a question? Will you answer?”
“Yeah, of course. For you, of course.”
“If you could stay here, if it was possible, if you could safely live here. With me. Would you do it?”
“Jules.” He shakes his head. “I think I’ll die if I stay here. I don’t think you understand.”
