"I... don't even know what to say," Ella said. Her hands were still wrapped around her coffee, even though it had gone cold ages ago. We were back inside Starbucks, and I had just finished explaining the parallel universe theory to her.

"I know it sounds impossible, but it's the only thing that explains it." I needed her to tell me it wasn't crazy. I needed to hear her say those words. For someone to say those words. "What happened to me eight years ago, and what's going on now."

"And Joe came up with this theory."

"No, he found it online. The Mandela Effect. I mean, it isn't exactly what's happening to us, because the Mandela theory is that two parallel timelines converged. So, some people remember Nelson Mandela dying in prison in the 1980s, and everyone else learned that Nelson Mandela died after serving as the South African president in 2013." I couldn't believe I remembered all those dates, when my history grade was so bad. "There are lots of other examples too. But it explains why I knew you'd had cancer as a kid, and Joe didn't. Because I originally came from this world. And eight years ago, I went to another universe entirely. And now I'm back."

The coffee shop had grown busy with students arriving to study, a book club meeting in the corner, and lots of other adults working on laptops. Though I'd kept my voice low, I glanced around to see if anyone was listening in.

"The fun thing about theories," Ella began, "is that sometimes there isn't a way to test them."

She gave me a tight smile. One that said exactly what she thought: I needed to go back to the loony bin.

Blinking back the tears threatening at the backs of my eyes, I pressed on. "It explains Joe," I said. "It explains why he isn't acting like your boyfriend. Because in our world, you guys were just friends."

Ella shook her head and looked out the window. "I don't know."

"And maybe there is a way to test it!" I heard my voice rising and forced myself to lean in and whisper. "The mist. There's a way to go back. We just have to go into the mist."

"How does that prove anything? You think your doppelgangers or whatever are going to also go into the mist? How does that work?"

I didn't know. I hadn't really thought about it. I supposed there was some kind of magnetic pull. The events in both worlds mirrored each other, even if there had been slight differences. The other me and the other Joey must have also been doing a photography project that sent them into the mist.

"One of us could go in. Just one of us. And then the other one would come back out."

Ella's fingers touched her phone sitting on the table, face down. Like she wanted to text Joey and ask him what the hell was going on. She opened her mouth to speak, then she closed it, looking over my shoulder.

"Aubrey?"

I turned around, then immediately wanted to hide. It was Mrs. Ferguson. Ceci's mom.

"Cecilia, look, it's your friend Aubrey."

The way Ceci looked at me was how you would look at a stranger. Then she looked at Ella. Her face showed nothing, but I knew she was making assumptions. Incorrect assumptions.

"Oh, hey," she said coolly. "Mom and I were just doing some early Christmas shopping." That was when I noticed how she and her mother were laden with bags. I had never shopped in Oakridge, even though "Shop local!" was practically our town's motto. The boutiques, which sold everything from gourmet fudge to organic body care and handmade clothing, were far too expensive for me to even consider.

"It's not even Thanksgiving," Ella muttered.

This morning felt so far away that I only vaguely recalled something Ceci had posted about retail therapy. "Oh, yeah, I saw on Snapchat," I said. It wasn't until I saw the look on Cecilia's face, and her mother's, that I corrected myself. "I mean, uh, Chapsnat. Chatsnap. Yeah. That's it."

"Fuck," Ella whispered behind me. Her car keys jangled, and I hoped she wasn't about to leave me high and dry.

"What are you up to?" Cecilia asked, treading that perfect line between, "I'm just casually asking" and "What are you doing here with this loser?"

My throat went dry.

"Uh, Ella was helping me with my photography project. Yeah, we were outside and got cold so we decided to get some coffee. But we were about to leave. Ella was going to give me a ride home." When I looked over at her, I hoped the wild pleading in my eyes would be enough to get her to go along with me.

"Yeah, gotta get home," Ella said, unconvincingly.

Ceci tilted her head. "Sure." As soon as she left, Ceci was going to get on the group chat that didn't include me. Telling Angelika and Maddy, Guess who I caught Aubrey hanging out with? And she totally lied to me about it.

We got up and gathered our things. "Um, I'll see you tomorrow at school, okay?"

"Sure," Cecilia said again.

I turned away and through clenched teeth said to Ella, "Let's go." Then I waved at Ceci and Mrs. Ferguson, still smiling like a crazed Barbie doll.

I held my breath until we reached Ella's car and got inside. "Oh god," I moaned, pressing my head into the headrest. "She's gonna tell everyone."

"What's she gonna tell everyone?" Ella asked.

I peeked up at her.

"What, that you and I got coffee? Who cares?" Ella twisted the key in the ignition and the car's engine started up with a strangled clanking.

The radio blared some song I'd never heard before and Ella immediately turned it down, just in time to hear me say, "Who cares? They're gonna think I'm a loser now. Oh, god."

"Why would they think you're a loser?" After a minute, Ella said, "Oh. Right. Because they think I'm a loser."

"They don't." The words came out automatically, with no conviction behind them.

"Of course, they do, Bree. I'm not an idiot. They think I'm a loser, and they think Joe is a loser. Because your friends are a bunch of mega bitches." She swung her arm around my seat's headrest and backed up faster than I'd ever dared.

"No, they're not." Again, I couldn't seem to put any force into my voice. I sighed and looked out the window into darkness.

"You know they are," Ella said. "You know exactly what they're like. So tell me: why would you want to be friends with people who would make fun of you for being you?"

"Who says any of this is me?" I buried my face in my hands. "God, I feel like I'm going insane. How is this even my life anymore?"

Ella didn't say anything for a minute. She turned out of the Starbucks parking lot onto Main Street. "Bree, do you even remember what you used to be like? We used to have so much fun when we were kids. You were always the leader when we played outside. You came up with these ideas... You were always laughing."

"Yeah. Before whatever happened to me happened," I mumbled. "I'm not that person anymore. Lucky me, I have PTSD and who knows what other mental illness. Probably schizophrenia, if I'm having this delusion about a parallel universe."

The car turned off Main Street and almost immediately everything became more rural. The lack of streetlights plunged the car's interior into darkness.

"Mental illness doesn't turn you into a fake," Ella said finally.

"Let me out," I said suddenly, unbuckling my seatbelt.

"What? No. Put your seatbelt back on. I could get pulled over--"

"I can walk," I said. "Let me out of this car right now."

Ella yanked on the wheel and the car bounced over the edge of someone's lawn. A car that had been tailgating us swerved around. I climbed out of the car before the vehicle came to a complete stop.

"Aubrey," Ella called out the window. "Come on. I'm not going to let you walk home in the dark."

"And I'm not going to ride in a car with someone who thinks I'm a fake bitch."

"I didn't mean it about you! I was talking about your friends. About fucking Cecilia Ferguson."

"Right." I reached into my pockets and pulled on my knit gloves, then wiped my face and started walking. Ella's car rolled along beside me. "You think I'm crazy. And fake."

"I don't. I swear."

I kept walking, and she kept rolling along beside me. In a way, I was glad for it, because I realized how absolutely dark it was, in the way that darkness now fell at six instead of nine. I had no idea what time it was. And the mist was creeping in, rolling in front of the car's headlights. Aside from the quiet purr of the car's engine, and the distant whoosh of passing traffic back on Main Street, and the sound of my own footsteps and sniffling breath, it was dead silent.

"Bree, please get back in the car. Just let me drive you home."

The road disappeared into the dark and the mist. Was that... someone walking toward us? I squinted, then yanked open the car door and got in. Ella barely had time to slam on the brakes again.

"Okay, good," she said.

I waited for her to go.

"Seatbelt?" she prompted.

I made a sound of disgust in my throat and wrestled the belt on, then glared at her.

"Good." She started driving again.

Pointedly, I looked out the window. A shape was coming out of the mist. No, not coming out – they were walking in the same direction I was. Now that we were moving, the mist seemed to be moving too. I swallowed thickly when I could make out that it was a girl.

A girl with long, straight brown hair.

A messenger bag, like mine.

Brown boots.

My breath rasped in my throat. I wanted to close my eyes and shut it out, and only open them once I was home. Only that wouldn't solve anything. I was glued to the window, waiting for Ella's slow driving to bring us closer, so I could see more. The girl had on a black puffy jacket. Just like mine.

The mist was so thick. "People should wear bright colors if they're gonna go walking around at night," Ella complained, flipping on the high beams. "I can barely see the road."

"You have to use low beams in the fog," I heard myself say.

We were right on top of her. I pressed my nose against the glass.

The girl kept her eyes on the ground as we passed her. She had earbuds in, and a thick fringe of bangs. I exhaled and collapsed against the door.

Ella glanced over. "You okay?"

"Alycia Dion," I said. Warmth flooded through my body as all the tension released. "I used to baby-sit for her. Her family lives off Elm Street."

Ella slowed down even more. "You want me to give her a ride?"

"It's fine." I focused on breathing. "It's fine."