Free An Infinite Number of Parallel Universes by Randy Ribay Page A

not even virtually.
    After about half an hour, he has scanned approximately fifteen pages of search results, twenty-five profile pics per page. He’s just about to log out when he notices that a new message has appeared in his user inbox.
    The profile picture is the anonymous male outline that Dante also uses. The username reads Takei4Life. Annoyed by the lack of image but intrigued by the handle, Dante opens the message.
    Hi DeeThreepio
,
    How are you? I read your profile and was really interested to see that we share a love for technology—I also built my own computer (I’m actually a programmer). But what I really liked was what you wrote in your biography. It was honest and sweet, and it really resonated with me. It felt like something I would write, even though I didn’t think of it myself (I hope that doesn’t sound weird—I’m just trying to say that maybe we have a lot in common on a deeper level, too). Even though you’re not looking for a relationship right now, how about a friendship? I’ve been really lonely lately and could use a friend. Maybe you could also?
    Dante moves his cursor over the Delete button. He pauses. He rereads the message. Instead of deleting it, he types a brief reply.
    Hi, Takei4Life. Maybe I could.
    Dante hesitates. Then, clicks Send.
    Immediately, he feels his face warm and his heart rate quicken. He moves the cursor to close the window, but then his inbox notifies him that there’s already a new reply from Takei4Life.
    Great :) How about coffee this Thur? The coffee shop @ 16th & Walnut. 7:30pm.
    Dante’s heart thrums.
    Suddenly, he hears movement in the hallway. He minimizes the browser just as someone opens his door. His grandpa’s face peeks inside, eyelids drooping.
    “Still up?” he asks.
    Dante’s heart races. “Just gaming,” he lies.
    “Well, it’s late. Get to bed, now. Don’t forget your auntie and uncle are coming over in the morning.”
    His grandpa pulls the door shut. Dante listens to his steps recede. A few moments later, he hears the toilet flush, more footsteps, and then a door close.
    Dante reopens the browser.
    He types a reply.
    See you then ;)

Quiet That Forms in Their Wake
Saturday
    Dante hears the front door open. The shuffle of footsteps. Voices rattling off greetings. The sounds of his uncle’s family arriving. Not yet prepared to deal with his overly exuberant twin cousins, Dante remains in bed.
    But as soon as the scent of frying bacon hits his nose, Dante’s out of bed and heading downstairs.
    He finds his grandma at the stove and his grandpa sitting at the table in his usual spot with the newspaper folded over his knee. Dante’s Uncle Jason and Aunt Jewel sit on the other side of the table. His little cousins, Andre and D’Andre, are running around the backyard in the sunlight. One chases the other with a neon orange plastic Wiffle ball bat.
    “Morning, sunshine,” his grandma says over her shoulder.
    His grandpa nods.
    “My, my, who’s this fine young man?” his Aunt Jewel says, standing and motioning for Dante to come in for a hug.
    Dante embraces her, inhaling the combined scent of her perfume, lotion, and hair burnt from straightening. “Hi, Auntie Jewel.”
    She kisses him on the cheek.
    “S’up, Dante?” his uncle asks.
    “Not much, Uncle J. Nice to see you guys again.” They shake, and after his uncle is done trying to crush every bone in his hand, Dante sits in front of a waiting plate of food.
    “So. Senior year,” his uncle says, smiling. He is, no doubt, recalling his own eighteen-year-old exploits. Dante presumes that they were probably a far cry from what his own will be.
    “Yup,” Dante says.
    Still smiling, his uncle takes a sip of his coffee and then asks, “You taking some tough classes this year to get you ready for college?”
    “The usual.”
    “What’s your GPA?” his uncle asks.
    “Three point one.”
    “Not bad, not bad. But you got to work on that this year, man. Crack down on those books so