I bit my lip, trying to think of the best way to explain it. “It’s my fault. I’m probably screwing this up.”
“You’re doing fine.” Calvin smiled.
“Okay, so part of quantum theory is that until we observe something, it exists in all possible states. That’s why a photon can act as a wave in one instance and a particle in another. It would be a waste of processing power to keep the unused portions of Alien Worlds running perpetually, so when no one is around to see what’s going on, they exist as all possibilities, and then the computer chooses one when someone enters that part of the map, changing to fit the player’s expectations.”
Calvin stared at me. He hardly blinked. Then he said, “So your theory is that we’re living in a game?”
Yeah, it definitely sounded crazy, but I couldn’t back down now that I’d put it out there. “Yes. And particle-wave duality, as well as other weird aspects of quantum physics, are shortcuts used by the computer running the simulation.”
“That’s . . . interesting,” Calvin said.
“It’s only a theory. One of many.”
Calvin pursed his lips. “But how does that explain your boyfriend going missing?”
“Well, that’s not the only weird thing that’s happened,” I said. “There’s Tommy vanishing and Flight 1184 crashing and the universe shrinking—”
“Wait. The universe is shrinking?”
I nodded. “A lot.”
“And you think it’s because we’re living in a simulated world?”
“Brains in jars,” I said.
“Brains in jars?”
“It’s a philosophical thought problem. If a crazy scientist scooped out your brain, kept it alive in a jar, and hooked it up to a computer, feeding it sensory data, your brain would be incapable of telling the difference. You wouldn’t know you were a brain in a jar. The world fed to you by the mad scientist would feel real.”
Calvin perched on his stool, hugging his knees to his chest. I wished he were a brain in a jar, so I could poke and prod at him and figure out what he was thinking.
“You’re far more interesting than I expected,” he said after a few moments.
“You expected me to be boring?”
“No,” Calvin said, flustered. “It’s just . . . I’m used to hanging out with guys like Trent, whose thoughts exclusively orbit his dick.” He paused. “I like that you think about weird stuff.”
Now I was flustered, so I changed the subject. “What’s the deal with you and Trent, anyway? He came by the bookstore and warned me you were a pathological liar or something.”
Calvin’s head drooped again. “We have a complicated history.” When I raised my eyebrows, he said, “Not like that.”
I wanted to ask him more, but a deep voice echoed up the stairs, calling, “Cal? You home?” followed by heavy footsteps.
“In my room,” Calvin called back. He grabbed his black hoodie off the floor and pulled it over his head. “My dad,” he whispered.
“You okay with Chinese tonight?” Mr. Frye said as he lumbered into view, stopping when he saw me. “Oh. Didn’t know you had company.” Calvin’s father was squat and dense, like God had meant for him to be taller but had been forced to squish him into a smaller package. His blond hair—curly like Calvin’s—was thinning on top, and his sunburned face was covered with pale stubble.
Calvin motioned at me. “Dad, this is Ozzie. Ozzie, my dad.”
Mr. Frye waved a filthy hand. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner, Ozzie, but I gotta work tonight, so you boys’ll be on your own.”
“Thanks,” I said, “but at least one of my parents probably expects me home to eat.”
“Sounds nice. Wish I could get Cal to come out of his room for dinner more often.”
Calvin grinned. “I would if you were ever around.”
Mr. Frye shook his head. “How about you work two jobs and I’ll stay home and futz around on the computer all night?”
“Nice try, Dad.”
Mr. Frye stood in the doorway for another couple of seconds before saying, “Well, it was good meeting you, Ozzie.” He looked pointedly at Calvin. “Maybe you could clean up some tonight? The dishes are out of control.”
“But if I leave them in the sink a couple more days, they might walk themselves into the dishwasher.”
“Smart-ass.”
After Mr. Frye left, Calvin said, “He’s a firefighter. One day on, three days off. He also works the stockroom at Walmart.”
“Oh. He seems cool.”
“He’s all right.” Calvin didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. He kept wringing them over and over. “He’s had a rough time of it since my mom took off. Said she wasn’t cut out for being a wife or mother.”
“That sucks.” I wanted to ask him if her leaving was the reason he’d gone dark side, but it wasn’t my business.
The conversation died. I didn’t know what else to say, and Calvin had this far-off look on his face. The silence grew uncomfortable, and I was about to leave when Calvin said, “So you really think the universe is shrinking?”
I mumbled “Yeah” and hung my head.
“I don’t know how we’d go about it, but if you want help looking for Tommy or proving we’re living in a game—a shitty game, by the way—count me in.”
His offer surprised me. “Why?”
Calvin glanced at the floor. He fidgeted with the hem of his shorts. “I had a crush on you in tenth grade. Did you know that?”
“Me? What?”
“I did,” he said. “You were cute and shy, and I fantasized about you asking me to sit with you and your friends at lunch, and we’d joke and laugh, and you’d hold my hand under the table.” He flicked his eyes at me and then back at the floor. “Stupid, right?”
I hadn’t suspected Calvin Frye had a thing for me. I hadn’t suspected he liked guys. And he was definitely cute, but . . . “I love Tommy.”
“I know,” Calvin said. “That’s why I want to help you.”
I checked the time on my phone, trying to cover how uncomfortable Calvin’s admission had made me. “I should get going.”
Calvin stood as I gathered my papers and stuffed them into my backpack. “I’m around all break if you want to work on the project some more. Or on other stuff.”
We walked downstairs. The house felt even lonelier now that I knew Calvin was going to be spending the rest of the holidays alone. I stopped at the door and said, “Lua’s band is playing another show at a/s/l on New Year’s Eve. Wanna go?”
A smile split Calvin’s face, and it was beautiful.
“Definitely. And I can make you a fake ID, by the way.”
“Seriously?”
“Sure. It’s easy.”
“Thanks.” I lingered at the door another second before turning to leave.
“Hey, Ozzie?” Calvin called after me.
“What?”
“If we’re living in a game, that means none of this is real, right?”
“I guess. Why?”
“No reason. See you Sunday.”
1,998,000,000 LY