The new girl looks at her watch again. “In about 57 years. Where I’m from, you’re about to retire.”
“How can I be a famous scientist?” Angela says. “I almost failed science last semester.”
“It’s because you have a special learning style. You don’t hit your stride until you’re about 19. But I can see you don’t believe me. You’re going to be so mad when I get back.”
“Just . . . try again. Why are you here?”
“It’s my mission to convince you to show up on the hillside at the south end of town at dawn on March 15. I’m doing a terrible job.” The new girl looks at her weird watch. “At least I got the year right.”
“March 15 is tomorrow,” says Angela.
“I know.”
“And what is it that happens at dawn tomorrow?”
The new girl shrugs. “The aliens come, obviously. With all their newfangled technology. You have to be there to meet them.” The new girl sees Angela’s expression. “Oh, don’t worry,” she says quickly. “The aliens are friendly. They usher in an era of peace and harmony. It’s going to be great, promise.” She holds up her wrist. The watch sparkles with a mysterious light. “They give us their technology. That’s how we set up the moon colony. And that’s how you invent the time machine.”
“Right,” Angela says. “Sure.”
The new girl sighs. “You don’t believe me.”
“Would you believe you?”
“No,” the new girl says. She looks sad. “I guess not. Do they serve these potatoes every day?”
“No, they serve all kinds of things,” Angela says.
“That’s good. Anyway, I’m telling you. Stay away from the moon potatoes. They give you lethal gas.”
“Thanks for the tip,” Angela says.
The new girl stands up and takes her tray. “Anytime,” she says. “Get it? Any time? Ugh. You’re going to send me to 1985 and make me stay there.” The new girl walks away. On her way out, she dumps her lunch—and the tray—in the trash.
Angela follows her. She takes the tray out of the trash can and returns it to the kitchen.
“That’s not how we do things here,” she says softly. But the new girl is long out of sight.