Chapter Twenty-One

"Okay, tell me what to do."

Charles and I were standing in my living room, the same place I'd first seen the effects of what was happening to him, and now I was trying to get into the same place that had done it to him.

"Just- Do you remember what I told you before?" Charles asked.

"Yes. Into my own stomach. And that never worked before."

"I know. I just need you to try. Please." He was walking a line between desperate and hysterical.

"Okay, okay. I'll try." Just like I had eight years ago, I took a moment to concentrate and stepped - to the same outcome. "I'm still here, Charles."

"Okay. That's okay. Sometimes it helped to imagine going in plus another direction, like backwards and in."

"Right. Wait, you had new tips and didn't tell me?"

"I ... It was high school, and we were stupid kids. Can we not talk about this right now?"

"Okay, sorry. Backwards and in. Here we go." I tried it, no change.

"Try forwards and in. Or to the left and in. Or right," Charles quickly suggested.

Using the different combinations, I made several attempts while continuing my thought aloud. "I just, I know we weren't really friends friends anymore, but you knew I wanted to be able to do it; you still could have tried to help me out."

"Adam, you're not concentrating."

"I am," I countered. I fell silent for a moment while I made another attempt before venturing, "Charles, did you like being popular?"

He didn't look at me, seeming almost embarrassed to answer. "Yeah, a little."

"I never liked Daniel as much as you," I confessed, though I wasn't really sure why. I could avoid eye contact, as I was still making repeated attempts at stepping into the other dimension, but I had more or less given up on it happening.

"Daniel was okay," Charles said absently. He sounded like he was talking to himself.

"He was okay, but- I mean, you never even invited me to go anywhere with your friends."

"I tried to," Charles said. I could feel him hesitate before continuing, "but nobody wanted you to come."

I stopped myself in the middle of another attempt. "What?" I demanded.

"I asked a few times - after I stopped being mad at you - but everybody said you were..." He trailed off.

"What?"

"You weren't cool," he mumbled to the floor.

"And these are the people you wanted to be friends with more than me," I concluded bitterly.

"You were the one who started it!" Charles defended. "You made me show them, even though I didn't want to."

"Whatever," I countered. We really were in the same place we had been eight years ago. The thought unleashed a torrent of long-fermenting emotions. I turned angrily for the door but stopped myself immediately. I wasn't in my apartment anymore.