I exhale and look up at her.
“Okay. This is really complicated. And I’ll tell you all of it, only if you promise to keep this here. What I’m going to tell you can never leave this room ... okay?”
She looks suspicious. “If what you tell me is illegal or is hurting someone in any way, I’m not going to keep it to myself. If that’s Jay you’re talking to, I’m telling the police unless you give me a good reason not to.”
Fair. This is one of the things I like about Gracie—her ethics. She’s going to be an amazing journalist one day. “It’s not illegal or hurting anyone, as far as I know. You asked if I know where Jay is right now, and the answer is no. I don’t. I don’t even know if he’s alive. But yes, it’s Jay I’m messaging.”
“What?”
I take a breath. “When I’m in this room, I can text Jay using ResConnect. But it’s Jay from five months ago. Before he disappeared.”
“You’re not making any sense.”
“I can’t explain it, but that’s what’s happening. The Jay I am texting is Jay from five months ago.”
She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, which seems about right. But I plow ahead, sitting next to her on my bed and showing her ResConnect, pointing out Jay’s name on the list of occupants in room 225. And I show her the message he just sent me. I even message him again.
Aleeza:Say hi to Gracie.
Jay:Hi, Gracie. I just saw you in the hallway half an hour ago.
Gracie looks at me. “You’re being scammed. This can’t be real.”
“It’s real. We’ve done all sorts of tests.” I tell her about the sports scores, Kegan in the housing office, and Jay finding me on campus. Plus, of course, she heard Manal say Jay told her he knew me well. Still, I feel like she doesn’t believe me.
Aleeza:Jay, text something only Gracie would know.
The chat is silent for a while. Finally, a message appears.
Jay:Has she admitted that she’s in love with Aster yet?
I snort and write back.
Aleeza:No, and she doesn’t want to talk about it.
Jay:Okay. Tell her thank you so much for the time she lent me a cardigan after the ketchup dispenser in the Tower food hall squirted on my shirt.
I look at Gracie, who’s next to me, reading my phone. Her face turns as white as the walls.
“Shit,” she says. “I don’t understand how this is possible.”
“It’s not possible,” I say. “But it’s happening.”
Jay:Does she believe us?
Gracie takes the phone from my hand and writes back to Jay.
Aleeza:This is Gracie. I BARELY believe you ... what’s the date for you right now?
Jay:November 2.
Aleeza:What was I wearing when you saw me in the hallway just now?
Jay:A dark orange sweater and jeans. I remember because I commented on the color of the sweater.
“Is that true?” I ask Gracie. “Is that what you were wearing?”
“How the fuck should I know ... I don’t remember what I was wearing on a random day five months ago.” Her shoulders slump. “Actually, I remember that. He said my sweater was the exact shade of the library carpet.”
