You've Found Oliver (You've Reached Sam, #2)(63)

“Please.”

There’s a brief silence as I think about how to word this. “Do you believe in alternate universes?”

“I have no reason not to,” she says.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s most certainly not a no.”

I lean forward, hoping she’ll say more.

“You’re not the first to ask this question,” she continues. “Whether or not other versions of our world exist. There are endless theories out there, if that’s what you’re looking for. Simulations, bubble theory, string theory. Every field from philosophy to quantum physics has danced with the possibility. Of course, there’s nothing to prove any of it. But there’s also nothing to disprove it, either.”

“So what you’re saying is, there are a lot of people who believe it. But no one actually knows anything,” I gather.

“What I’m saying is, there are a lot of people who are, at least, open to the possibility of their existence,” she clarifies. “The universe is filled with endless paradoxes and contradictions that no one can explain away. Even the most fundamental laws that hold together everything we know to be true have been broken at one point or another. So maybe it’s not so crazy to believe that alternate universes exist all around us. Even if you can’t see it.”

“You think there are infinite versions of us out there?”

“I think there are infinite possibilities of how we live our lives.” She gestures expressively. “Different timelines of what-ifs branching out like tiny bubbles from a champagne fountain. Maybe from every seemingly inconsequential decision we make.”

It’s hard to imagine infinite versions of me. Me here. Me still in spring. Maybe there’s a universe where Ben didn’t pick up the phone and we never met. “Do you think we have any choice at all? As in, which universe we end up in. Sorry if that’s a stupid question.”

“That’s not stupid at all. Of course, I don’t know the answer.” She pauses to think about it. “It’s more like time in that way. We’re all limited by our perception of it. Maybe it’s something that stretches and compacts and flows with no end or beginning. We may never be able to change time, but we can change the way we understand ourselves in it. It just takes a bit of reorienting.”

“I’m not exactly sure what that means,” I admit.

“Think about the way we lose track of time,” she continues. “It is a very real feeling that we all experience, isn’t it? Like when we forget to look at the clock to count how many minutes have passed. You see, we’ve been taught to check things off schedules, to think of time as something that is always running out, which in turn forces us to live ahead of ourselves. In order to change the way we think about it, we have to understand how it tangles itself around every part of our lives in different ways. Only when we stop trying to pin it down does time begin to move in another direction.”

There’s so much to process. I’m not sure how much of it relates to me because I haven’t been living ahead of myself. If anything, I’ve been trying to stop time from moving at all. To keep things the way they are for just a little bit longer. Now I’m reliving the last six months of my life. I wonder what Professor Clarke would think if she knew. I wish we could talk for another hour, for many more hours, but there’s a knock on the door. Another student is here to see her, so I get up from the chair and say goodbye.

“Stop by anytime,” she says. “I mean that.”

I smile. “Thank you. I definitely will.”



* * *





I should probably get some studying done before class, but all I can think about are the other versions of me branching out in different timelines. How do I know if I’m living in the right one? I can’t believe Professor Clarke isn’t teaching her spring class. And that Julie won’t be studying abroad anymore. What else might have changed?

I check my phone on the way to the library. There’s a message from Ben.

I was reading about Roy’s Comet. It became visible in July



Which is around the time I first received your messages



I pause to take this in.

That’s weird



Do you think it means anything?



I’m not sure. It’s probably a coincidence



I figure the comet’s gone by now



It’s actually still visible



But should be gone by tonight



I’m not sure what to make of this. I know Ben believes in coincidences more than fate. But what if all these things are connected somehow? Me getting stuck here at the same time the comet is disappearing. Maybe there was a ripple in space-time or something, causing our worlds to flow into each other. I know I’m just making stuff up right now. I shouldn’t be thinking about this anyway. I should be happy about being in the timeline with Ben.

But why does it feel like I don’t belong here? I mean, it’s not like it’s going particularly well so far. I already messed up a few things, includes ruining Mom’s birthday. I think about what’s been happening with Ben, too. I wonder if being together isn’t actually what’s best for him right now. I know he doesn’t blame me for losing the fellowship, but I still blame myself for it. He’d never failed a quiz until he started spending time with me. I’m the common factor across all this.