Free Stuck in the 70's by Debra Garfinkle Page A

you can help me figure out this time travel stuff.”
    She looks at me like I’m nuts. “How am I going to do that? In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not an honors student like you.”
    “I don’t know if you can help, but you can at least try. Two heads are better than one. Three, actually, if Evie works with us too. And you’re the only one who actually experienced time travel. Maybe you can remember some clues about how it happened.”
    “I was passed out, Tyler.” The bus stops a little short at a red light, and Shay slams her hands into the seatback in front of her. “Plus, I don’t know anything about science.”
    “Attend classes with me. My physics class might be especially useful.”
    “Even if I wanted to enroll in your school—which I don’t—it’s not like I have transcripts or a birth certificate. Technically, I haven’t even been born yet.”
    “You could go to the school library and read books.”
    She shakes her head. “I don’t do books. I take it there’s no Net hookup at the library?”
    “What do you need a net for?”
    “ The Net, not a net. Never mind.”
    “So is it a deal?”
    She rolls her eyes. “Okay. I’ll try to learn something.”
    “And you’ll give me a makeover, try making me popular.”
    “Deal.”
    “Deal.” I offer my hand to shake, but she rolls her eyes again.
    I fumble through my backpack propped between my feet and pick out The Great Gatsby . “Since I’m going to be spending a lot of time researching time travel theories, why don’t you read this and explain it to me. English is actually my weak subject.”
    “Everything is my weak subject.”
    “Not romance, I bet. I don’t get the romance.”
    “No, you probably wouldn’t.” She takes the book.
     
    She comes to our table at lunchtime with a whole pile of books. Besides The Great Gatsby, there are two beauty and fashion volumes and a physics text. Maybe she has been reading about time travel. I make room for her beside me.
    She hides the books under the table and sits down. “I’ve figured out hem lengths and makeup trends for the year 1978,” she announces like it’s Nobel Prize-worthy.
    “Shay, you have a library card?”
    “I don’t need one. I guess barcodes haven’t been invented yet.”
    “Barcodes? Huh?”
    “I’ll bring the books back when I’m done with them,” she says. “Hey, there’s nothing faster than the speed of light, right?”
    Across from us, Evie says, “You read that correctly, Shay. Nothing can surpass the speed of light.”
    She quizzes us more, about jet propulsion and the fourth dimension. She borrows my notebook and jots down notes.
    “See? Physics can be fun,” I say.
    She rolls her eyes, then claps her hands. “Social makeover time. Tyler, you said physics class can be fun. Don’t ever mention that in public again. It’s on my list of things a high school student should never say. Listen up.”
    “This might interest someone who cared about being popular,” Evie says.
    “Like me.” I take a big bite of my bologna sandwich.
    Shay clears her throat. “The list of what not to say: One, I like my classes. Two, my parents are cool. Three, I’m not into music. Four, I can’t go because I have to study. And five, personality is more important than looks. Got it?” She doesn’t wait for a response. “And don’t gobble down your food like that, Tyler. It’s disgusting.”
    I swallow the sandwich remnants.
    “What if you actually like your classes?” Evie asks.
    “Don’t use the word actually . Reeks of geek.”
    I open the bag of M&Ms I bought from the school vending machine. “Thanks, Shay.”
    “My classes are more important to me than popularity,” Evie says. “Actually.”
    Shay takes a few M&Ms. “What if I allow you to say you like one class?”
    “ Allow us? Who died and left you queen?” Evie says.
    “You’re allowed to like shop class.”
    “The only class I ever liked was shop class,” I say in a fake, deep