The health classroom smelled faintly of disinfectant and dry-erase markers. The teacher, one Mr. Fulmer, had the projector on, a bad omen if ever there was one. Virgil's eyes landed on the seating chart, the bold, black letters spelling out an actual death sentence:

Zeke Thompson—Virgil Fox

Virgil blinked. Then blinked again. Nope. Still there.

He felt his stomach flip. Sitting next to Zeke was not part of the plan. Not for his day, not for his year, and definitely not for his life. He just wanted to sit in a safe corner and blend in, keep his head down, survive through the day without drawing attention—or in this case, actually survive after the dumbest smart kid tried to mouth off to Zeke freaking Thompson. The best thing Virgil could do was hope the guy had forgotten that Virgil called his bike a death trap.

Zeke was already slouched in his seat, his leather jacket hung over the back of his chair like a flag declaring territorial dominance.

Maybe if I just stay here by the door, pretend I dropped something, and wait until the bell rings…

He felt a light tap against his back.

"Can you like, not block the door or what?" Jocelyn Lee, possibly one of the biggest divas in their grade, said with a disgusted sneer. She was making that face either because she had touched the "freak from freshman year" or because she was actually annoyed she couldn't immediately settle in to be the star student. (Obviously, it was the first option.) Virgil muttered something incoherent and trudged toward his spot like a prisoner marching to the gallows.

Okay. Don't anger the tall, scary biker. Don't look directly at him. Definitely don't try complimenting his motorcycle again.

When he reached his desk, Zeke glanced lazily at him, but he didn't seem to care about him. Awesome. The morning was all but forgotten. Class was going by smoothly. Virgil was just starting to relax when the door to the classroom banged open with the urgency of a fire drill.

"Fox! Virgil Fox!" came a breathless yell.

Virgil didn't even have to look. Of course, it was Charlie. Every pair of eyes turned to the door, which made Virgil's stomach sink further than he thought possible. Why did he think it was a good idea to let the guy know what classes he was taking? On the first day of school too? Charlie was clutching the signature rolled-up notebook like it contained the secrets of the universe, frantically trying to grip the laminated badge on hanging around his neck.

"Mr. Fulmer! I need to borrow Virgil. Science Club emergency!" he said, addressing the teacher with way too much confidence for someone who just said one of the dumbest things in high school history.

Virgil's head met the desk with a thud. "Come on."

Mr. Fulmer adjusted his glasses, clearly baffled. "Science Club has emergencies?"

"You bet it does!" Charlie replied. "And this one could potentially—hypothetically—affect all of us. Uh, according to Principal Tolkan, that is."

Even though everyone was in high school, the word principal brought about one unanimous sound. "Ooooh."

Virgil shoved his things in his bag and practically jumped up to make Charlie stop talking. He threw Mr. Fulmer a silent I'm sorry glance and followed Charlie out into the hall. The muffled chuckles from his classmates didn't go unnoticed.

"What could've possibly justified that level of theatrics?" Virgil hissed.

"It's the formula," Charlie replied, grinning like a madman. He unfurled his notebook and flipped open to the relevant page. "The one I was informing you about this morning?"

Virgil blinked. "The formula? The one you said you needed a whole day to test, or whatever? Couldn't you have waited until lunch? We literally have less than 30 minutes before the bell rings."

"Forget that." Charlie waved his hand dismissively and handed Virgil the notebook after finding the page. Virgil wasn't sure why he kept doing that if he only ever managed to get a glance in with no time to process before Charlie's rambling demanded his attention. "Remember that rocket-propulsion, all-terrain scooter from the day of—?"

"Yeah, yeah. I don't need a reminder."

"Okay well, it ties together. That invention may not have been a success, but one element of the design was proven viable: the quantum accelerator. Remember that physics, new reality, many worlds theory kick I was on during sophomore year?"

"Oh, yeah," Virgil remarked dryly. "That was fun."

"I started building my own theory based on all that work, incorporating my proven invention with the quantum accelerator. I'm putting one of the school's computers on permanent reserve. The DSL has been doing all the work and moments ago, the last piece of the puzzle was processed."

"…Okay, and?"

"We have to get to the Science Club so I can show you."

Charlie led the way to where they usually met. The hybrid space was huge, a combination of a classroom and a lab space, decked out with all the science-y gadgets someone like Charlie could want. The second they stepped inside, Virgil noticed how cold it was and was grateful he wore the long-sleeve underneath the button-up. Charlie strode up to a fat computer and whirled around. "What I'm about to show you is very, very, top secret. We have to keep this between us."

"Done." Virgil didn't tell anyone anything because whenever he'd try to explain Charlie's science gizmos, it sounded like he was making stuff up. Charlie's hazel eyes were sparkling like a kid on Christmas morning as he unlocked the computer screen and pushed Enter. "Check it out."

The simulation on-screen was confusing—it spiraled, winded even, but Virgil had no idea what it meant. Charlie looked at him with a smug grin, and he didn't offer an explanation.

"…Yeah?"

His short friend rolled his eyes, but the grin remained. "What you're looking at is a successful simulation of practical time travel."

Virgil's brain felt like someone had taken a Rubik's Cube, scrambled it, and then set it on fire for good measure. Charlie stood and crossed his arms like he'd just casually reinvented the wheel. "So? What do you think? Groundbreaking, right?"

Virgil stood frozen. His jaw worked silently, searching for the right words. It wasn't that he didn't have questions—he had dozens of them—but trying to pick one felt like wading through quicksand.

"Let me just…" he muttered, holding up a hand for Charlie to give him a second though that rarely ever happened. "I just…"

Come on. Say something, anything.

"I need some food." Virgil turned and shuffled out of the lab before Charlie could even respond. He needed air, but Charlie came to a stop in front of him. Whatever he was saying was not making a dent through the funky haze Virgil found himself in. He gave Charlie a weak pat on the back and pushed the door of the lab open. "I'll see you in Home Ec."

By the time he reached the end of the hall, he wasn't even sure where he was going. His feet were carrying him on autopilot, while his mind churned through every impossible implication of what Charlie had just revealed. Privacy would be good. He started heading to his car in the lot, the late morning sun doing little to thaw the ice in his brain. Sinking into the driver's seat, he gripped the wheel like it might anchor him back to reality.

Time travel. Practical time travel. On the first day of school. It sounded like something out of a movie, not a conversation you had with your best friend in an icy cold lab between periods.

There was no way that—Just how—? Virgil pinched the bridge of his nose again. Charlie's smug expression suggested that it was real; he wasn't joking. They've already made a translator for a cat. Was time travel really that far off? He needed some fast food, something fried and unreasonably salty, then he'd be able to process the absolute bomb Charlie dropped on him. He went to the closest drive-thru, a burger place, and it helped a little. Savoring each fry had distracted him long enough to convince himself that surviving gym class was possible.

Author's Note: I find it weird cuz we're never reminded that Zeke and Virgil share a class with Jocelyn Lee! Or that, on their first day of class, Charlie was apparently running a club meeting in the middle of lecture hours? Not to mention that AV Club is more used for sound equipment?