Josephine didn’t make it any easier. She texted every pointless question she could think of in response: Who was I? No. Really. Who was I? How did I get her number? Why didn’t I just talk to her in class? Was I really going to make her meet me in a gas station?
The girl was clueless.
I made her agree to meet me at a Shell station down the road after football practice. I promised her I read over all the books and watched the Lost episode. Which actually was true. I never said I understood any of it because if I had said that it would have been a lie.
Josephine stared me down as she took a long gulp of her soda.
“So. Um. Did you have a nice day?” I asked.
Josephine choked on her soda and began to cough out a laugh. “Just peachy, Mr. Sunshine. Just peachy.”
I gritted my teeth.
Josephine took a bite of her taco, and I wondered if our meeting would consist of me watching this girl eating dinner in a gas station while the fate of the world hung in the balance.
“All right. So, tell me your thoughts. What did you think of the books?” Josephine asked, not letting the silence settle between us. Maybe she did understand just how important all of this was.
I reached forward and grabbed a chip off of her tray. I took my time popping the chip in my mouth and chewing. I showcased the pensive face I always put on every time my uncle started talking about football scholarships.
“I think that Godel guy might have been on to something with the whole...the whole...”
“Closed time-line curve,” Josephine offered.
I nodded.
“Maybe. The idea that we can revisit our past seems a bit far-fetched, but we did see the future. At least that’s what we think we saw. You know Steven Hawking says that time travel can only occur on the sub-microscopic level,” said Josephine.
“The Chronology Protection Conjecture,” I replied.
Josephine dropped her chip.
“You didn’t think I read the books? Did you?” I challenged.
“I...I mean, I thought...”
“Look, this is important to me. I have to save Jenna, and if that means reading a ton of crap I don’t understand in order to find my way back to that place so I can fix it, well so be it.”
Jenna was the reason for everything. When I saved her, it all would be worth it.
Josephine nodded, “All right. Well, let’s continue then.” I couldn’t help but notice she looked a bit impressed, and how strange it was that I was happy about it.
“What are your thoughts on wormholes? I mean we both agree we are at least meant to believe that we time traveled. Right? If so, how the hell did we do that?”
“I guess mathematically wormholes could exist. Aren’t they just like these crazy space tunnels or something? Like you could travel through them to the past or the future?” I added.
“Yeah. I guess that’s the idea. But did you read about how these wormholes would like fall apart before you could even get through them?”
“What about traversable wormholes?” I asked.
“The ones that last long enough that you can supposedly travel through? According to the theory, even in those it would only be possible for matter with enough negative density to control and stabilize them. And that’s only if you could predict where they’d be.”
“Right.”
I remembered reading everything she was talking about, but that didn’t mean I understood any of it. I had spent the weekend studying wormholes and theories of time travel when only days before I had dreamt of doing unmentionable things to my girlfriend all weekend while her parents were away—another example of the failed American dream.
I told Jenna I was doing the research for an extra credit creative writing assignment for English. English and history were the two classes I didn’t let cheerleaders or the drama club girls do my homework for me. I actually liked those subjects. I had C’s in both of them because I only ever got half the work done, but at least I earned those grades on my own.
Jenna was a saint and helped me read over the books. She even made me little flash cards and quizzed me on the theories and the theorists connected to them. She got a little antsy when we started watching Lost on Saturday night. She snuggled close to me and began to nuzzle my neck. I could tell she wanted to fool around, but every time she got too close to me all I could see were the maggots and her rotting skin. Touching my girlfriend literally made me sick to my stomach. I kept her at bay by cocking up some story about having to focus so I could get my assignment perfect. I told her I was in danger of getting kicked off the team if I didn’t pull up my grades.
Jenna never complained or acted like she thought something was up. That didn’t mean she didn’t think something was wrong. Neither Jenna nor I particularly sought out conflict.