I christened my return to the present by promptly vomiting all over my shoes. “You gotta stop doing that, Piper,” teased Gerard, handing me a roll of paper towels to clean off with.

I wiped the sick from my mouth and shoes and looked around. I was back in my high school’s science lab, complete with rusty chairs, a moldy ceiling, and the smell of our cafeteria’s mystery meatloaf wafting through the air. It was utterly, indisputably, normal. I’d missed this.

My cousin opened one of the classroom windows and stuck his head outside, taking a deep breath of air. “Not a single mecha Hitler in sight,” he said, staring appreciatively out at the mundane school grounds. “We’re home.”

I frowned, remembering Gerard had mentioned how screwy time had gotten since my foray into the Middle Ages. I wondered what kind of adventures he’d been on. Who knows, maybe he’d write a book about it someday. I hope he called it A Classically Modern Gerard.

“So everythings back to normal?” I asked, suddenly remembering I’d left my backpack and all my school supplies in the past.

“Technically, yes,” replied Gerard, “but also no.”

I arched an eyebrow, not in the mood for cryptic riddles. “Like I said earlier, we need to correct the changes you made to the course of history. We’re at a point where one decision should be able to bring time back to its original point.”

“Meaning?”

Gerard tossed me a black t-shirt. The words Science iz Cool were emblazoned on the front in neon letters. “I sent us back 26 hours before the time machine malfunctioned,” replied Gerard, “and perhaps more importantly for you, two hours before your audition.”

“My audition?” My mind exploded with memories, recalling the reason this insane journey had begun in the first place. I’d auditioned for Hamlet, been denied by M because of my inadequate acting and yellow shirt, tried to go back in time for a do-over, and, well, you already know the rest. Honestly, it felt like that had all been several lifetimes ago even though I’d only been gone a couple of weeks.

I stared down at the shirt, not quite believing what I saw. “But you said it was dangerous to mess with the past.”

Gerard nodded, “Yep, incredibly dangerous, and recommending this course of action is honestly quite dumb and irresponsible for someone of my IQ level.” My cousin gave me a meaningful look, I was surprised to see his eyes were red. Was he holding back tears? “Consider this an apology for having to say goodbye to all your new friends; I know that must’ve sucked.”

I didn’t say anything. I stared back down at the black shirt in my hands, imagining my name suddenly up in lights, performing on Broadway, being able to right the ship and fall in line with the 30-year plan for my life.

Gerard tapped his watch. “Better get going, cuz,” he said with a smirk. “Don’t forget, you’re on a time limit.”

I gave Gerard a grateful nod and sprinted out of the classroom. The hallways of the school were mostly empty. Spying one of the clocks on the wall, I realized that most classes were still in session. If I recalled correctly, past Piper was currently in P.E., so if I was careful, I could sneak into the locker room and swap out her shirt without past me or anyone else noticing. Oh yeah, I’d also need to write her a quick note to act better this time around. I could sign it as her secret admirer since I’m technically my number one fan.

I ran down the hall, heart racing, only to round a corner and ram face-first into somebody else, sending us both hurtling to the ground. “Watch where you’re going, punk!” shouted the indignant person. My eyes widened; what rotten luck; I’d just smacked into the second-last person I wanted to see right now, M!

“Sorry, Miss M,” I said, jumping to my feet and extending a hand to help her off the floor. “I didn’t see where I was going. Oh, by the way,” I said, remembering we hadn’t technically met yet, “My name is Piper Gosnell, and I’ll be auditioning for your play in just a few hours. Please don’t hold this slight against me.”

“Oh, Piper,” replied M, taking my hand and adjusting her dark glasses as she stood. “It’s certainly good to see you again, but I’d advise in the future that you don’t run around the school like a headless chicken,” M smirked. “Next time, you might not bump into someone as gracious as myself.”

“I’m really sorry,” I repeated with a bow of my head, “It won’t happen again!” I started sprinting away but froze in place a moment later. Something M had said was sitting weirdly with me. “Uh, have me bet before?” I asked, turning back around to face her.

M gave a throaty chuckle, clearly enjoying my confusion. “Well, of course, darling, we’ve known each other for ages,” replied the director, walking over and ruffling my hair like a child. “Although I will admit, it has been a while.”

M removed her glasses and stared down at me with glowing green eyes. Wait a second, did I say her eyes were glowing? There was only one other person I’d ever met with eyes like that. “Melanie?” I asked, my mind fracturing into a bazillion little pieces.

“Took you long enough,” said the Princess with a sly grin, “But then again, you always were a little slow, weren’t you?” Melanie whipped out a pocket knife and began to play with it, spinning the blade around in her hand and doing cool tricks. She frowned as if remembering something. “Probably shouldn’t have this out at school,” she mumbled, stuffing it back in her pocket.

“What? Why? How?” I stammered, nothing about anything making sense anymore.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“Magic, duh.” Scoffed Melanie, a tongue of green flame appearing in her open palm. She sighed in annoyance when I still appeared just as confused.

“Necromancers hold dominion over life and death,” she explained, “and it wasn’t long before I found out that applied to me also.” Melanie pointed meaningfully at her body. “Granted, I still do age, just very, very slowly, “I should finally hit 40 in a couple hundred years.” Melanie chuckled like she’d just thought of a really funny joke. “Hopefully, your great-great-grandkids will be better actors than you are.”

“But the time machine,” I choked out, “No one is supposed to remember me.

“Power over life and death,” replied Melanie, looking impatient, “that applies to concepts as well; if a memory ever dies or is erased, I can bring it back to life.”

I was starting to realize how terrifying necromancers actually were. Suddenly, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Crap, I’d missed gym! Past me still had one more class before the audition; maybe I could call myself to the office and leave a note saying I needed to change shirts for good luck or something.

I turned around and prepared to sprint to the office, “Oh, but before you go,” called M, causing me to stumble mid-stride, “would you mind performing that scene from Hamlet for me again, the one you auditioned with?”

“My audition scene?” Did M remember that too? I was seriously beginning to hate magic.

“Just humor an old lady, won’t you?” She replied, a huge, devilish grin splitting across her face.

Okay, she was definitely up to something, but I was too pressed for time to waste any pondering. I’d humor M and be on my way. I took a breath and closed my eyes, imagining the words I’d been rehearsing for months, and created a mental picture of all the sighs, sounds, and feelings associated with my performance. I imagined the guards of Castle Porkrind, the sweet smell of Princess Hamela’s freshly picked flowers, the citizens gathering in the town square-.

Wait, something wasn’t right, I thought, scrunching up my face. All of this felt offf, like a bunch of little details weren’t where they were supposed to be. The armor the guards wore, real armor would be much bulkier and harder to move around in making them slower and louder than I’d previously imagined. Princess Hamlea would hardly be able to smell her flowers over the general stench of poop and unwashed peasants. And the clean, pristine hands of the castle populace would probably be covered in grime or ash. Not to mention, my romantic moment with Rome-Bovine would probably be supervised by a member of the royal chaperone! All of this was wrong, I realized. If I was really in a medieval castle, I’d be acting like-.

“Oh Rome-Bovine,” I whispered, taking a hesitant step forward and casting a nervous glance toward our chaperone who was watching from a corner in the drafty castle chambers. “What is a day apart from you but a year in the butcher shop?”

I turned and looked out one of Castle Porkrind’s windows and into the town square below, watching all of the people go about their evenings. Knights patrolled the grounds, merchants peddled their wares, and people dumped chamber pots out their front doors, and all the mess sort of just congealed and stuck together as it flowed through the town like a very stinky river.

I wrinkled my pig-nose at the smell, and turned back to Rome-Bovine, thankful that he smelled much better than used chamber pots…well, slightly better. This was the Middle Ages after all. “Pearls before swine need not compare; I do hope you find my love true and fair.” I glanced toward a corner of the room, looking alarmed. “What’s that?” I asked, pointing. The chaperone turned their head to look, and in the brief window of time, I planted a kiss on my beloved’s snout. “There’ll be more where that came from once we’re married,” I whispered playfully, remembering what Ellie had said to Thomas.

Ellie? That’s right, I’m not a four-foot bipedal pig-woman, I’m Piper! I shook my head and found myself back in the hallway of my high school. Several students cast curious glances our way as they walked between classes. M beamed down at me. “I think you did it,” the director/necromancer said, pride in her voice. “Good on you for listening to a bit of sage advice.” M frowned. “The part about the secret kiss wasn’t in the script, but I’ll admit the improv added to the scene.”

It took me a few seconds to remember what M was talking about. “The first time I auditioned,” I began slowly, “you had said what I was missing couldn’t be learned, it had to be experienced.”

M nodded, “You needed to become Princess Hamela, and she needed to become you. Would you say that’s been accomplished?”

When I’d first auditioned for Hamlet, M had been right, I’d only been acting. I didn’t know how it felt to live and breathe in a medieval world, I could only intuit things based on what I’d read in books and seen in movies. But now that I’d actually been there, lived there for the past several weeks-

“The real Princess Hamlea would have behaved entirely differently from my performance,” I whispered, eyes embiggening.

“Bingo.” Said M with a grin, you’re a real actress now kiddo.”

My eyes went wide, feeling a rush of pride at having unlocked a new level in my acting pork chops. But a moment later I swore loudly in frustration.

“What’s wrong?”

“Past me hasn’t learned that lesson yet!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up in frustration. “It doesn’t matter if she redoes the audition, she’ll always fail, because she doesn’t have first-hand experience with the material!”

“Eh, give it a couple weeks,” said the princess with a shrug, “I’m sure she’ll figure it out.”

I stared at Melanie for several long seconds, not realizing at first what she was implying, and then we both burst out into deep-throated guttural laughter. Several students shot us weird looks as they passed, but that didn’t matter to us.

“If you’re that dead-set on getting the role of Hamela, you can always kill your past self and take her place,” continued M, wiping a tear from her eyes, “I could help.”

I bet my lip, killing myself was a tempting offer. Is it weird to say that? “Thanks,” I finally replied, “But I think I’ve messed enough with the past for one lifetime. We should keep things how they are.”

“Really?” Asked M, raising a perfectly manicured eyebrow. Even though you’ll have to wait an entire ‘nother semester to audition for one of my plays? That’s a heck of a long time for you short-lived normies.”

“I’m gonna get that lead role, Melanie,” I replied, staring intently up at her, “And then I’m gonna get on Broadway, but I don’t need to be in a rush; after all, I’m only 14 (or maybe 13, I still think I’d gotten de-aged after getting hit with that time attack from Abe). I’ve got all the time in the world to make mistakes, learn, and follow my dreams. Like I said, there’s no need to mess with the past.”

Melanie flashed a toothy grin, suddenly looking like her younger self from all those years ago. “I’ve got all the time in the world,” she corrected, “You’ve got just enough time.” I couldn’t argue with that, so I just grinned. “I expect great things from you, Miss Gosnell,” continued Melanie, obscuring her glowing eyes behind dark spectacles, “if you still want to be in this year’s production, we always need more trees with non-speaking roles.”

“I’ll think about it,” I lied, waving and heading back to the science lab.

“By the way, Piper,” called out Melanie as I rounded the corner of the hallway, “Thomas and Ellie were very happy together. They had four beautiful children, and I convinced them to name their daughter after you.” Melanie sighed, sounding tired. “That kid was a real piece of work.”