“I did my own experiment. Not with clothes—” She rolled her eyes. My sister’s idea of being dressed up was a zip hoodie instead of a pullover hoodie. “— with food. I found out I’m eggplant-intolerant.”
“Eggplant-intolerant.”
“It’s a thing! Look it up.”
The conversation was getting away from me. “You used ManyMes?”
“Clarissa gave me a gift card for my birthday last month.”
I was still skeptical about the ManyMes app, even though it was supposedly legit science — something about quantum tunneling leaking information between parallel universes. A hundred dollars paid for a twenty-four-hour time window on news and social media feeds from a set of alternate universes identified by the user’s prompt. Posts that diverged from those of the initiating universe were prioritized.
Liz slid her tablet back to my side of the table, and I read her prompt: “What if I’d eaten the eggplant at dinner last night?”
At the top of her feed was a post from her friend Clarissa: “OMG Liz barfed at the movie tonight.”
“You see! It works. I will never, ever, eat eggplant.”