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?