"Ellen Jackson," the girl said.
"Who's that?" Randy asked, turning around for a moment.
The girl looked strangely at him. "You really don't remember, do you? I'm Ellen Jackson." She walked over to him and placed her hand lovingly on his shoulder. "I think maybe you need to see a doctor, or something. Maybe you bumped your head." That name did sound familiar, but he didn't know that this girl was Ellen.
"No, the person I need to find is Melissa."
"Why?"
"This is her party. Not mine. Maybe she can tell me what's happening." He reached for the door, but then stopped. Something about that statement felt wrong. Was this her party? He had this weird feeling that it wasn't, for some reason.
"What do you mean this is her party? This is yours. Don't you remember inviting everyone?"
"I ... uh ..." What was going on? Why did he feel so confused?
"This is your house, Randy. We're standing in your bedroom."
Randy looked around. Suddenly, the room felt way more familiar than before, even though today was the first day he had ever stepped foot into it. What was happening to him?
"Now pull yourself together," Ellen said. "I know this is a lot to take in, but since you're new to town, this is the best way to meet everyone."
New in town? What the hell was she talking about? Randy was born there.
"Just try to stay away from creeps like Steve Farber and Tom Welles and you'll be fine," Ellen said. She walked over to the bedroom door and opened it. "Are you ready to rejoin the party?"
"Definitely," Randy said. Anything to get out of that room and to get out of this weird conversation with Ellen.
