I had never cared about history. I like to consider myself to be smart and practical. I don't care about what's gone behind me, only about what's ahead. My girlfriend, Miranda, on the other hand, knows everything about history. Seriously, it's scary how much she knows.

But I need to go back a bit.

This whole thing started when Miranda and me met Carmen in New York.

We had planned to see Les Miserables together – my mom had taken us there for a trip. Plans were going well.

We were just walking toward the theater when I nearly collided with the person in front of me.

"Sorry," I said.

The girl spun around. "Jack? Jack Lewis?"

I nodded. Her face was vaguely familiar. "Uh... sorry. Do I know you?"

"Oh, not really. I was a friend of Ivy's. Carmen?"

"Carmen... oh, Carmen. You were in that musical with her, right?"

She nodded. "Yes, I was one of the dancers. Are you here to see Les Miserables?"

"Yeah," said Miranda. "You too?"

She shook her head. "I'm here to see Wicked. I'm not overly fond of Les Miserables."

Miranda stared in horror. "You don't like... why not?"

"It's just not my thing."

Miranda kept staring. "You don't like Les Miserables..."

I took her arm. "Let's go, Miranda."

"Oh, I've actually been wanting to talk to you. About –" she hesitated – "Ivy."

Miranda stiffened. "She's dead. What's left to say?"

"I... now probably isn't the time. Could one of you just call me in the next few days, please, when you've got a minute?"

"Okay." We moved past her, toward the door. My arm brushed hers.

There was a feeling like a static shock.

Then we were standing in the middle of a very different street.

I stared around at some very different buildings. I didn't recognize any of them.

Miranda let out a little squeak.

She grabbed Carmen's arm, dragging us away down into an alley between two buildings.

She took several deep breaths. "Oh, my goodness. No no no..."

"What?" I asked.

"Time travel. New York. Alright, who was thinking of New York in the 40s?"

There was a pause.

"That was me," confessed Carmen. "I was thinking about that Agent Carter show."

Miranda released a little scream. "No no no!"

I groaned. "Of all the times you could have picked..."

"On the bright side, I suppose I've saved you the misery of having to sit through Les Miserables."

"What do you mean misery?" demanded Miranda.

"Miranda," sighed Carmen, "I promise you that Jack didn't want to watch it, he just wanted to make you happy."

My face burned. "What, because I'm a guy I can't like musicals?"

She sighed and spoke too softly for Miranda to here. "I was friends with Ivy. Ariel and me were the ones who convinced her to be in the school musical. You were standing right there. Once she agreed, you said that no one could pay you enough to watch or be in one."

"Anyone else think we've gotten a little bit off topic from 'we just time traveled'?" asked Miranda.

There was a moment of silence.

"Oh, yeah. I suppose we have a lot to explain to you, Carmen."

"No. Not really. When Ivy was alive, I went on a little vacation with her. To another planet."

We were silent for a moment.

"That's kind of what I was going to talk to you about. I guess the universe traveling energy hasn't worn off of us all quite yet," added Carmen. "What do we do now?"

"You're so calm it's eerie."

"You aren't exactly running around screaming yourself."

"We're semi used to it. The dimensions thing, at least, though not the time travel."

"And I don't see a use in panicking. What's next?"

"We... find out where we are."

"Wait." Miranda glanced over us. "We'll probably want to blend in." She pulled off my jacket. "There's no way a guy in the 40s would wear that." She glanced around, stuffing it down between two trash cans. "I guess the pants are okay." She glanced over at Carmen. "Your taste in clothes has saved me a lot of trouble. It's not exactly 40s, but I don't think anyone will notice."

Carmen glanced down at the skirt and shirt she'd chosen to wear. A long brown skirt and a white shirt.

"And as for me..." Miranda stared down and grimaced. She wore a light sweater over her T-shirt and jeans. "I'll have to figure out something."

"How do you know about what they would have worn in the 40s?"

"Because I like historical movies." She retrieved my jacket and ripped off a few pieces. "It'll have to do."

Carmen glanced us over and nodded. "Very good."

"Again, how do you people know about this stuff?"

"My family has a lot of photo albums, some of them dating back from the 40s. I just liked looking through them."

We emerged from the alley.

"What now?"

"We figure out what's going on," said Carmen.

As if on cue, I saw someone who looked like Angie walking past.

"Let's go," said Miranda.