That thought is when everything hit me.  Home.  Where was I?  How had I gotten there?  How would I get home anyway?  And, most importantly, why did I suspect I couldn’t get there again?  I’d just followed this girl like it was a perfectly ok thing to do!  Since when do you follow strangers home and pretend you don’t talk because you don’t feel like it?  I wanted to say I was in a dream.  Everything about it seemed like one, and I know I thought it was when I first woke up that morning, but by then, instinctively, I knew it wasn’t.  This was real.  These people were real.  This place was real.  I was really here.  Now how did I get home again?  Oh, and I had one more question that, of course, I wouldn’t ask.  Did I have to go home?