On my way to Vandy, driving in a car I could never afford, my mind tumbles around to this morning.

Devon saw my tattoo, and now he has an inkling that I knew of him before we ever met. He’s not going to let me live it down, I bet. After getting out of the car, I’m smiling as I fast walk across the quad to the physics building, where I alternate with other cohorts to teach a summer-session class to underclassmen.

I pause before I go in the door, thinking about my curse. This birthday, this month, is going to be fine, I tell myself. The worst was the fire, and it already happened.

Fate laughs.

“So Stranger Things—could it be closer to the truth than we realize?” This comes from Corey, a lanky baseball player who’s retaking Intro to Physics.

Like me, he’s a little fascinated by the multiverse. We’ve mostly wrapped up our lesson, and we’re running through notes—but we tend to get lost on topics that aren’t part of their curriculum. “Well, no.”

“Dang,” he mutters.

“Am I saying it’s completely impossible? Of course not. It’s an unsolved mystery, which we don’t have the capability to test for. The Large Hadron Collider at CERN may be able to point us in the right direction someday.” I cross my legs as I sit on the grass in the shade under a huge oak tree. We left the musty classroom because these kids need a break; plus, it’s not as hot as it was yesterday.

Addison, who was doodling, stops. I’ve been working hard on her this summer, trying to get her enthused. “Why do physicists study the possibility of a multiverse if it’s so far out of reach?”

“You can’t dismiss an idea until you study it for years. For example, long ago, people saw the sun rising and setting, seeming to go around the earth. What did they believe?”

“That the sun orbited the earth?” She scrunches up her nose.

“Exactly!” I toss her a yellow sucker, her favorite. “We have to be ready to see possibilities.”

“I think the multiverse is cool,” Corey says. “I dig that theory you brought up last week. Made my head hurt, but hey, I learned something. You’re not like that other dude who teaches us. I sleep through his lectures.”

“Tell me more about superstring theory from last week.” I wave a sucker.

He sits on the grass, legs crossed as he cups his chin, thinking. “I don’t know; it’s about quantum mechanics and the theory of relativity, right? Like, a theory to make a single mathematically consistent framework to explain the universe.”

Pride swells so big I want to pop. I give him a fist bump. “Corey! You rock!” It’s more complicated than that, but this isn’t a theoretical physics class.

“You explain it better, Ms. Riley. You’re the best teacher here.” He grins, and I chuckle. He’ll do anything to get in my good graces.

Addison grumbles, throwing up her hands. “I have no clue what he just said. Why is this class so important?” A long sigh comes from her. “Obviously, I shouldn’t be in engineering.”

Corey elbows her. “Chill. We have to pass this class, and she’s our best shot.”

I don’t want to crush her dreams, but engineering requires two to three physics classes, so I lie back in the grass and raise my arms over my head. “Stretch it out, guys. Let me think a second before I answer Addison.”

Why is physics important to a girl who would rather sleep until the afternoon than come to class? Yes, she admitted to skipping several classes last semester, this one included, to recuperate from hangovers. Now her parents are making her do summer school to make up for it.

Everyone moves around, adjusting and getting the kinks out. After a few ticks, I sit up and look at Addison, wanting to inspire her and not turn her away from what I love.

“Do you have a car?” I ask her.

“A new Prius.”

“Ah. What kind of engineer do you want to be?”

“Mechanical.”

Perfect. I point at her with my pen. “Without physics you wouldn’t have that sweet car. Physics determines style, speed, drag force, engine efficiency—knowledge you’ll need for that degree. All manufacturing depends on physics-based technology. Tested formulas explain how things work: cars, cell phones, this pen, even quarks. Physics is here to explain the universe, how it started, the why of it, and where we’ll be years from now. It’s limitless. All the secrets of the universe are just waiting for us to discover them!” I wave my hands at the blue sky.

“You lost me at quark. Kidding. I remember. It’s a subatomic particle.” She laughs. “You get really excited about weird stuff, Ms. Riley.”

“Just grasp the basics and build. I’ll help you. You can always call me if you get stuck in your notes,” I assure her. We need more girls in STEM.

Corey grins. “Also, still waiting on more superstring explanation.”

I settle my textbook on my lap, trying to think of a way to break it down without being overly scientific. I like to think I’m a good teacher, but sometimes I do get lost in my head and spout terms they’ve never heard of—nor care about. “The theory is an attempt to describe the universe under one theory of everything by adding extra dimensions of space-time and thinking of particles as miniscule vibrating strings.” I grab the thick stick I picked up on the way to our spot and show them. “We only see three dimensions on this: width, breadth, and height. But what about the particles deep inside, the ones we can’t see with our eyes? Theorists think that tiny curled-up dimensions—”

“What’s the fourth dimension?” asks Corey, getting me off track. “It’s time, isn’t it? Can we travel through time? I’d really like to go back and tell myself the winning lottery numbers.”

I grin. He’s incorrigible. “Einstein indeed called it time, but it’s a spatial dimension and can be only described by mathematics.” I smile to soften the blow. “It’s a fascinating concept, but there’s no proof of time travel or a multiverse.” But someday . . .

A dry tone cuts across from the building. “Ms. Riley, your class is dismissed. I’d like to speak with you, please.”

Glancing over, I see him standing on the steps, eyes squarely on me. Dread inches up my spine as I pick a piece of grass out of my hair.

“Ohhhh, he looks pissy,” Corey says under his breath as we gather up our things.

Several of the students tell me bye as they leave, and I wave, reminding them to study their notes.

“Go on now,” I tell Corey, who’s hanging behind, still darting looks at Dr. Blanton.

“You sure? I’ll walk you over to him if you want.”

Oh, Dr. Blanton would just love that.

“No, that’s okay.”

He winces. “I don’t think he likes our class—or you. He’s always poking his head in and glaring.”

I smile and pat his arm. “Don’t worry about me. Study this week instead of hanging out at the ATO house.”

“I’ll chug a beer for ya, Ms. Riley.”

“Be safe at least.”

He nods, gives Dr. Blanton a wide berth, and leaves.

I reach Dr. Blanton on the steps of the building, acutely aware of the shorts, T-shirt, and flip-flops I bought. I should have changed into jeans at the hospital but didn’t.