I quickly googleAll sporting Events October 19and write out final scores for ten different games into the chat.
Jay:Now send me a picture of you in of the room right now to prove you’re there.
Aleeza:You can’t send pictures in the ResConnect chat. Text only.
Jay:Oh. I’ve never had a roommate, so I’ve never used it. Try texting my number. Maybe we can talk on other platforms too.
He sends me his phone number, and I text a selfie of me sitting on my bed, but the text fails to deliver. I then try calling the number, and a voice says the number is out of service.
Aleeza:It didn’t work. The number is out of service.
Jay:That’s weird. I’ve had this number for years. Does that mean I’ll change it in the next five months? If you’re in March, why aren’t I still there? This room is supposed to be mine all year.
Fuck. Of course the phone is disconnected. This guy wentmissingin November, and he doesn’t know it yet. I have to tell him. But ... would that be the responsible thing to do? Telling Jay about his futurehasto be a violation of time-travel rules. What if it causes a ... I don’t know. Time disaster. What if it makes the room implode into a black hole? Or what if it does something bad to his psyche? It would have to mess a person up to find out he’ll disappear off the face of the earth in less than a month, right? Saying something now could make this situation worse.
Aleeza:I don’t know where you are now.
That’s the truth, at least. No one knows where he is.
Jay:Maybe I got a better room instead of this shit hole. My buddy Jack was talking about renting an apartment second term. Can you find out where I am?
Aleeza:Let’s try something first. Do something in the room. Something that I can see now to prove that this conversation is real. Write your name on the wall or something.
Jay:Don’t you think the cleaners would clean that over the holiday break?
Aleeza:Hide it. In the closet or somewhere like that.
Jay:Okay give me a minute.
I can’t help but feel like I’m playing with fire here. I still believe that this is real and we’re in a time-skip or something, but I also have this weird feeling that danger is coming and I should be careful. But of course danger is coming. This guy is literally missing. There were search parties.
Jay:Okay, I wedged a note between the upper shelf and the back wall of the closet. Read it and tell me what it says.
Aleeza:How am I supposed to get it?
Jay:Use a chair! That’s how I got up there.
Aleeza:Give me time. I’m going to have to move the box from in there.
Jay:Why is your stuff still in boxes. I thought you moved in?
The box ishisstuff. But I can’t tell him that.
It takes me a few minutes to empty the closet enough so I can put a chair in and get at the top shelf. My heart is racing the whole time. If I find something there, then I’m right and this is real. If there isn’t, then someone is playing the most epic prank on me, and people—presumably Mia and her new friend group—hate me even more than I thought.
I reach across the top of the shelf to where it meets the wall behind it. There is nothing there. I check the whole closet shelf, running my hand around it. Nothing.
I’m an idiot. Thisisa prank. And I completely fell for it.
I climb down and go back to my phone.
Aleeza:There’s nothing there. Fuck you and leave me alone—I’m reporting you to campus police.
I turn off my phone and go to bed.
SIX
I’m a bit of a mess the next morning. And it’s no wonder. In the space of a few days, I lost my closest friend, moved to a new dorm room, and fell for an epic prank that I still can’t imagine the purpose of. I cannot believe I actually thought that I was talking through time to Jay Hoque, a guy who’s been missing for months. Maybe I should take Kegan’s advice and make use of the campus mental health resources.
