August 19
“I don’t remember that game,” I say. “What was it about?”
“Oh, you’d hate it,” Kyle says. “I mean, it’s slow, single-player…”
“Come on, humor me,” I say, nudging her. “I liked that firework one.”
“Well, it’s about time travel,” she says. “It’s the one that came before that one I got last summer. This kid named…”
I zone out for a moment as she starts rattling off a plot that, to anyone else, would sound cliché. To me, however, it sounds like an answer. It sounds like the most wonderful thing in the world. Even if Kyle thought I’d hate it, and I probably would hate playing it, just listening to her talk about it, and how she gets so into it, I could listen forever. I don’t want her to go.
Part of me wonders why so many things keep coming together like this, just so perfectly. I get to thinking about what Lisa said, about how causality is broken, and how something seems to be guiding it now. It’s possible, even likely, that something could have spurred Kyle to mention that particular game, that particular plot, at this moment in time, in order to get me thinking about a solution. But if that’s the case, then what influenced her? I have no idea, and thinking about it is liable to give me a splitting headache.
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