Bridget nearly chokes. “Your what?”
I take another bite while she stares at me, dumbstruck. Through a mouthful of cheese, I admit, “Honestly, I’m not even sure I want to be an accountant. I want something different.”
“Is this because of Connor?” Bridget whispers, as if he can hear us.
“No. It’s because of me. I’m just—I’m not the same person anymore.”
She presses her palms together, gathering herself. “Okay. I’m officially concerned. I get that this breakup was sudden, and it’s inspiring some big feelings, but maybe last night’s fall knocked a few screws loose. This seems like a medical emergency.”
“I’m fine,” I say on a laugh. “I’m just ready for something new.”
“Since when? Who even are you?”
I poke my pizza crust in the air. “Great question. Been mulling that one over myself.”
She props her head on her hand, rubbing at her temple. “Seriously, Ruby. Where is this coming from?”
My instinct is to keep quiet about my unexplainable MASH adventures, but Bridget’s the only person I told about the game when I was there, and she believed me. Having her know who I really was and how I felt saved me, just like it has all my life.
I stand up, grab the MASH game from where I tucked it into my purse, then sit beside her again. “I’ll explain everything,” I start, holding the paper between us. “But fair warning: It’ll sound like total nonsense.”
“Good. I love nonsense.”
“Like, beyond the realm of possibility.”
“Nonsense. Realms. I’m ready,” she says.
“Alright,” I say on an exhale. “That dream I said I had last night? Well, it wasn’t a dream. This MASH game—it came true. As in, I lived it.”
Bridget eyes the page and laughs. “What? You saw your roller-rink restaurant in some kind of drunken hallucination?”
“It wasn’t a fantasy,” I insist. “It was real, Bridget. I know it sounds crazy, but I spent almost two weeks there.” As her eyes widen, I explain, “I was trapped in this world. Some kind of alternate universe or something. I could recount it all to you, right now, in wild detail. Because it happened. And it—” I falter, tripping on the truth. “It changed me.”
She stays silent. I’ve never once seen her speechless.
I point to each section of the game. “I had the mansion, the two pools, the thirteen fish.”
“And Penn?”
I glance at his circled name. I nod. “And Penn.”
“Were you two…together? Like,togethertogether?”
“Yes. Very.” I fight the urge to tell her every detail. But she probably needs time to adjust to “alternate universe,” so, baby steps.
Giddy, Bridget asks, “Was it likeA Christmas Carol? Did you get a whole tour of that other life?”
I laugh. “Kind of. But sadly, I never met the ghosts of sleepovers past.”
She pauses, considering. “This sounds kind of terrifying.”
“It was.”
“But also thrilling?”
“That, too.”
Bridget snorts. “Man. Seeing Ryan in capri pants and a scarf would change me, too.”
