Proof of Forever by Lexa Hillyer

haven’t there been strange things that have happened on past reunion nights?”
    â€œWhat, like alums getting drunk and throwing up in front of their own kids?” Zoe says, fully aware that she’s babbling, that
she’s
the one being unhelpful now. She sits down on the grass, and the other three join her, gathering cross-legged, just like they used to.
    â€œShe’s right,” Luce chimes in. “There was the time MinnaSpencer’s dog came back.”
    The memory, though dim, creeps back into Zoe’s mind. “That’s true—the cocker spaniel?”
    â€œYeah,” Luce says, nodding thoughtfully. “It ran away when her parents dropped her off in June, and she was devastated that summer. Then it came back two whole months later, on reunion night.”
    Zoe sighs. “That’s definitely a bit odd, but not quite up there with time travel.”
    Tali looks from Zoe to Joy and Luce, then back at Zoe again, as though she has just confirmed that time travel is real.
    Which she basically did.
    â€œTrue,” Tali adds, “but there was also the time Petra fell off the spinning swings and everyone thought she could have broken her neck and died, but she turned out to be miraculously fine.”
    Luce nods. “She didn’t even have a bruise.”
    â€œSo,” Zoe says, tugging a piece of grass out of the dirt and twisting it between her fingers. “What we’re agreeing on here is that this is just some awesome reunion night
fluke
?”
    â€œMy mom told me once that Okahatchee translates to something like Water of Possibility.”
    Now it’s Tali’s turn to roll her eyes. “Next you’re gonna tell me some brochure B.S. about the natives who believed photographs steal your soul.”
    â€œHuh. That gives me an idea,” Joy says. She’s doing her best to stay positive, and Zoe feels an instant wave of gratitude. She speaks slowly, as if she’s working it out as she talks: “It all comes back tothe photo booth. It
must
. Remember how it short-circuited while we were inside it?”
    â€œI don’t get it,” Luce says, looking panicked.
    â€œWe need to get back into the photo booth,” Joy says. “Maybe we can somehow undo all this.”
    â€œBut the photo booth isn’t even
here
.” Luce crosses her arms as if she’s freezing, even though it must be mid-eighties. “Mom only brings it in for reunion night. And if today is the relay, then it’s a Monday. And we still have five more days before the Friday of reunion night, when we can even
try
.”
    Tali gapes at her. “So . . . you’re suggesting we hang around in the past for five days and then . . . take a bunch of glam shots in the photo booth and hope it works like a time machine in the other direction? And how do we know we’re
really
in the past in the first place, not just some—”
    â€œAlternate reality?” Luce fills in, wide-eyed.
    Tali rolls her eyes. “I was going to say drug-induced hallucination.”
    â€œWell, we do look
exactly
like we did two years ago,” Zoe says, fumbling in her pocket to see if the old photo strip—the one Joy had wanted to bury—is still there. “I’ll show you.”
    She pulls out the photo strip . . . and gasps.
    â€œWhat?” asks Joy.
    â€œIt’s . . . it’s . . .”
    â€œWhat?” Luce asks.
    Tali grabs the photo strip from Zoe’s hands and says it for her. “It’s . . . blank.”
    â€œThe photo from two summers ago?” Joy asks.
    â€œThe photo from
this
summer,” Luce says slowly.
    â€œRight.” Tali nods. “It’s totally erased. Gone. Like it never happened.”
    Zoe stares at the blank photo strip over Tali’s shoulder. It’s true. It’s like some giant eraser has come and smudged out the images of their