Page 146 of Dream Girl
“We could hack reality. No, hear me out. What if the universe was a simulation–and we could hack it? Wouldn’t that beamazing?” Her eyes danced with delight.
Spencer’s face went awash with horror. “Please don’t.”
“Ri, I’d love to work with you. But let’s choose something else. If reality is a simulation, we don’t want to piss off the person running it by hacking it,” I replied, understanding Spencer’s look. If someone governed travel between worlds, someone could do so for reality–and I didnotwant to meet them.
“Spence, Ri is talented, but hacking reality is just a theory, like time travel.” Brennan shook his head as he finished pouring coffee refills.
I looked at Brennan. “Did you ever consider that the reason we think it’s a theory–and have never met anyone from another time–is because someone is monitoring it? Consider parallel worlds, could you imagine the chaos that could stem from it? Worlds conquering each other for the resources or simply for the hell of it?”
Yeah, I hadn’t laid awake at night thinking about the temporal police.
“Whoa, that sounds amazing.” Riley did a little dance in her seat again.
“Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should,” Spencer warned. “But why don’t you think about a project you and Grace could do together that doesn’t threaten the fabric of time and space and send me a proposal?”
“This is way too serious of a conversation for this time of the morning. More presents. This is from me and Bren.” Jett dropped a large bag on my lap.
I pulled out a butter-soft black leather motorcycle jacket. “This is beautiful.”
“To go with your boots,” Jett replied. “There’s more.”
I pulled out a black motorcycle helmet that hadPeachesairbrushed on it.
“Thank you, thank you both,” I said. That was thoughtful.
“Now, we’ll be nice and safe when we steal Evan’s bike and go fuck shit up. I have one, too,” Riley told me.
“Motorcycle license. We need to get you a motorcycle license, driver’s too, since you live here now,” Evan said. “I totally forgot that.”
“Well, I’m not cleared to drive yet. I didn’t even get this off.” I made a face, holding up my wrist, which still had the little monitor. “But again, thank you, these are great.”
“Oh, there’s this.” Brennan half-tossed a box at me.
I caught it and unwrapped it. “Wireless headphones, thank you.”
“They’re for the piano. Spencer seems to resent the piano waking him up at two in the morning.” Brennan rolled his eyes. “Button for soundless is on the side of the piano. You can keep them in the bench with mine.”
“Thank you. That’s so nice.” I clutched them to my chest.
He shrugged. “Like I said, we can’t interrupt Spencer’s beauty sleep.”
Spencer shot him a scathing look.
“My turn.” Evan handed me a bag. “I hope you like it.”
“I’m sure I will.” Hadeveryonegotten me a present?
I took out a beautiful messenger bag. “It has equations on it. Thank you.”
Leaning over, I gave him a kiss.
“No kissing at the table,” Riley scolded, throwing a piece of tissue paper at her brother.
“That’s not a house rule,” Wes replied. “I’ll go next. Here.”
He handed me a large, flat, rectangular present.
I undid the wrapping and stared, heart in my throat, tears in my eyes. It was a framed and matted collage of pictures that Wes had drawn. Pictures of me. Of us. Little me. Big me. It looked like most were from his sketchbooks. One was obviously recent–me with my short hair, reading in the window seat.
