While You Were Gone by Amy K. Nichols Page B

control’?”
    “How about ‘Fear equals control’?”
    “That’s good.” He turns to a blank page in his notebook and starts sketching. “
Equals
like an equal sign?”
    “Yeah. Don’t you think?”
    He nods. I watch his pencil pull lines across the paper. Each one is exact, fitting with the next. He really is good.
    In no time flat, he’s done. “Something like this?”
    The word
fear
is shaky, like the letters are scared. Two thick parallel lines make the equal sign. And the word
control
is heavy and solid, with cracks breaking the invisible ground beneath it.
    “Dude.” I sit up and my head spins. “That is awesome.”
    He sets the paper down. “What if we get caught?”
    “But we’ve done this with RD.” I tread carefully. “Right?”
    “This feels different.” He grasps his elbows around his knees. “They always had our back, you know? With this, we’ll be on our own.”
    “They didn’t on Friday when we almost got blown up.”
    “Good point.” He shakes his head. “Listen, we can’t do this anywhere near my dad’s beat, deal?”
    “Your dad is a cop?!” It’s out of my mouth before I realize what I’ve done.
    Germ’s face changes from confusion to anger. He stands up and throws the pencil to the floor. “That’s it. What the hell is wrong with you?”
    “Nothing.” I try to shrug it off.
    “Huh-uh. Something’s not right. Start talking.”
    My mind scrambles to come up with an excuse, but when you’re best friends with someone the way Danny is best friends with Germ, you know things like the fact that his dad is a cop. I run my hand over my too-short hair and stare at the FEAR = CONTROL sign.
    I have to tell him.
    “I’m not Danny,” I say, avoiding his eyes. “I look like him, but I’m not. I mean, I am, but not the Danny you know. Something happened and I jumped here from another world. Like this one, only not.”
    I sound like a crazy person.
    He stares at me for a long time, then smirks. “This is a joke, right?”
    I shake my head.
    “Come on, man,” he says. “It isn’t even a good one. At least say you’re an alien body snatcher or something.”
    I just look at him until he scoffs again. “So next you’re gonna tell me the Danny I know is…where? Sucked into a black hole?”
    “Maybe?”
    He holds up his hands. “Okay, enough. I get it. Ha ha.”
    “I’m not joking.” Even though Germ is freaking out, it actually feels good telling someone.
    “Prove it.”
    “How?”
    “I don’t know.” He crosses his arms. “Tell me about where you’re from. Tell me who I am there.”
    I swallow. “We aren’t friends…where I’m from.”
    “What?!” His mouth hangs open.
    “It’s totally different there. My, um…” I stare at the floor. The good feeling I had is gone, replaced by a mix of panic and grief. “My parents died when I was eleven. I live in a foster home with four other kids. The youngest is Benny. He’s five. The place is a shithole. Brent’s always drunk. Suzy does what she can to keep him off us, but he’s mean. The truth is, I don’t really have any friends there. Not like…this.”
    When I look at Germ again, he’s backed up almost to the door. “And this is why you don’t remember stuff?”
    “Yeah, I’m pretty lost. I don’t get half the things you talk about.” I shrug. “It wasn’t me who experienced them. Listen, I’ll totally understand if you leave,” I lie.
    Neither of us moves. Silence swallows the room.
    After what feels like forever, he says, “Well, you’re doing a good job impersonating him. Almost.” He takes a step forward. “I can catch you up on what you should know.” He picks up the notebook. “But one thing you gotta work on is your confidence. Nothing rattles Danny.” He sits again in the same spot on the floor. “And don’t even ask me to help with that, because I sure as hell don’t know how.”
    I sit on the edge of the bed. “Confidence. Okay. Anything else?”
    “Yeah,” Germ