From just outside the dressing room, I heard Freddie huff impatiently. "Have you got it on, yet?"

"Patience, grasshopper," I called back.

"What?" he asked, his tone defensive. "Who's a grasshopper?"

Fortunately the reference I'd flippantly made wasn't anachronistic. I explained, "It's from a TV show called Kung Fu! The Chinese guy keeps saying it, that's all."

He relaxed. "Oh, okay. That's better."

"What did you think I was talking about?"

"Never mind."

But it didn't take a superbrain to decipher what he had assumed I meant. Freddie knew he was slim and leggy just as much as I knew it. Hastily I scrawled another NFO (yes, I had my backpack in there with me): Physically self-aware, but hides it.

It was utterly astonishing, how much he loved shopping. While I'd dragged my feet around Kensington Market, he flitted from store to store like a butterfly among fragrant flowers (in white platforms, no less), never seeming to get enough of dropping a hundred pounds everywhere we went. I could give a meticulous rundown of our shopping spree so far. But since shopping is not my pleasure point, I won't. So let me sum up about three and a half hours (so far) of clothes hunting in a few lines of dialogue:

"Ooo. I like this."

"How much?"

"A lot, you goose, or else I wouldn't have picked it-"

"No, I mean, how much is it?"

"Who wants to know?"

"I do. It's important."

"That's the wrong approach to take. I could buy up this whole place right now if I wanted to. And you'd look even more ravishing than you already are, in this."

"Absolutely not."

"You say that every time, and then you change your mind."

"I mean it this time."

"Evie, darling. The least you can do is try it on."

And that's how I'd already ended up with four halter tops, three vests and corresponding button downs, two pairs of capris, two pairs of bell-bottom jeans, three pairs of shorts, two skirts, five dresses fit for any occasion, a vast assortment of lingerie (now, on those, I did in fact try them on without his visual approval), and four sets of pajamas. Oh yes, and three pairs of shoes. The man was a spending maniac.

NFO: "No" is apparently Freddie-speak for "yes."

Now, I was testing a new tactic. Maybe if I didn't make the crucial error of showing Freddie how this jumpsuit looked on me, and just made him take my word for it, we could move on. Of course, he picked it out. It was the latest fashion- and Freddie was all about fashion. But if this sleeveless, fuchsia nightmare with the parachute bell-bottoms and wacky, plunging v-neck collar fit the bill for "modern" fashion, I'd happily resign myself to boring button down tops and khakis.

Quietly I wormed and wiggled into the jumpsuit, so I could at least say I'd put it on. My fears were confirmed; I don't know what women back in the late seventies were smoking, but it enabled them to dress like that and keep a straight face. For the first time in my life, I actually appreciated 2017 couture. Ours isn't much better, to be fair, but at least our jumpers don't have legs that flare out so wide at the bottom that they look like lampshades.

"Mm," was all I said.

"Let me see!" Freddie insisted.

"It doesn't fit," I lied. "Too big."

"But it's your exact size. Should fit you like a glove!"

"I guess not," I sighed. "Oh, well!"

"Come out and show me, if you please," he requested.

"Trust me, Freddie, it doesn't work."

Suddenly the curtain slid to one side and there he stood, studying me in my fuchsia glory. It was all I could do not to hit him.

He shook his head. "It's not the size. It's the color. I think the ivory would suit you better." And with that he drew the curtain again.

"Freddie, you're killing me, I don't need a jumpsuit!" I stepped out of the one-piece.

"But it's the latest craze."

Oh, how many times had he said THAT today, the pushy little Beau Brummel! "Look, thank you for all you're doing for me, but for heaven's sake, I'll never be able to wear all this!"

I just want to give you the option, dear," he crooned. "Hand me the one you've got, I'll get the one in ivory."

I crossed my arms, standing firm in nothing but a bra and my underwear. "I don't want a jumpsuit, Freddie. End of story."

The curtain snapped back. I squealed in surprise, and suddenly there was Freddie's face peering in at me. I fumbled for my clothes to hide myself, spluttering, "You cheeky inconsiderate little-"

"Darling, let me ask you this," he interrupted, not reacting to my red-faced, half-naked state. "In a crowd, would you rather stand out- or stick out?"

I blinked. "Couldn't I just fade into the background?"

"Not while I have any say about it. You'd rather stand out, right? Of course you would."

"Freddie, I'm not wearing any clothes! Get out!" I hissed, and threw the jumpsuit to him.

"You're not?" he pretended to be shocked. "Why, Eve, this is a new side of you. I'll go get the ivory." And he disappeared.

SO RUDE, I hollered within my head. I reached for my t-shirt and jeans.

"By the way-" Presto, it returned, the taut (now faintly smirking) face framed by curtain! "-You shouldn't have that bag in here, you know. Very suspicious."

"OUT OUT OUT!" I whisper-shouted. "AND TAKE THIS, TOO!" I tossed over my backpack. Laughing like a madman, he snatched that up as well and vanished. I might have remained frustrated, perhaps have become even more so as my embarrassment set in, but that rolling, contagious laugh stopped my ire before it really even began.

I waited a moment, holding my clothes to my chest, in case he decided to yet again spring back into view. But his footsteps died away, and I could get dressed in peace. Good God! Was nothing, not even privacy, sacred to him? And what was this magic he held, that I couldn't stay angry about something as shocking as busting in on me while I was undressed? So many questions, and so many more to come.

I pulled my shirt on over my head, and was straightening it when I heard a loud thud, as if someone tripped and fell on the hardwood floor.

"You okay?" I called. No answer. I shrugged and went back to business, thinking little of it.

When I was decent, I drew back the curtain and walked out to meet Freddie. Oddly enough, however, I didn't find him waiting there with Rudy by the dressing room entrance. So I walked around a little until at last I found the two of them at the checkout. Rudy was now guarding my backpack while Freddie forked over the cash.

"I'll take this, Rudy, thank you," I said.

Freddie glanced back at me and remarked dryly, "I rather liked what you were - or shall I say, weren't wearing earlier. You should do that more often. It'll be terribly catching."

I leaned in and whispered, "Don't you try to butter me up, Silver Tongue. Some perfect gentleman you are, barging in on a girl while she's dressing."

"Hush, and hold this, please," Freddie instructed, laying the cream-colored jumpsuit in my arms. The three of us strolled out to the car, and I stuffed the jumpsuit into the almost overflowing trunk.

He surveyed the pile of clothes there and nodded. "I think you're set for a while, don't you?"

"I'm so set I don't know what to do with myself," I said. "'Thank you' just seems so inadequate, but, um- thank you."

"Don't give it another thought, darling," he purred. "I love spending money. Might as well spend it on you!"

"You're very kind."

"No, not really. Just frivolous, but fabulously frivolous at that." He smiled. From the sweetness of that smile, I began to think maybe I wasn't such a burden on him after all.

I looked at the sky, forgetting it was summer here and the sun didn't go down by five. "What time is it?"

He shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Rudy, what time is it?"

Rudy glanced at his watch. "Nearly six."

"Oh! I need to get back, start supper," I said.

Freddie put his hands in his pockets. "What are we having?"

"Roast chicken. Is that okay with you?"

"Sounds divine. Rudy, let's pick up a bottle of white wine before we start for home."

"Don't you have to go to the studio today?" I asked as I clambered back into the seat.

Freddie shook his head. "It's Sunday."

"Meaning...?"

"Meaning, it's a holy day of rest, so I can do whatever the f--- I damn well please! " he announced.

"'Holy' being the operative word, of course," I quipped.

"Naturally."

Rudy started the car, and we pulled away from the curb back into traffic.

I leaned back and sighed contentedly. Now was a good time to fish for psychological notes. "So, tell me about your band."

Freddie just looked at me, shook his head. "You don't even know what we're called?"

"Wasn't it something royalty-related? Like Queens, or something-"

"Just one Queen. But right."

That's for sure, I chuckled to myself. "How long have you guys been together?"

"About six years or so. We're rock and roll. I know that's not really your cup of tea, but to other people we're fairly big."

"Apparently." Everyone under forty who had seen us about in the streets that day stopped and stared, and a few fans who got past Rudy tiptoed up to Freddie and all but begged for his autograph.

"All those people following you around," I mused, turning into a therapist for a moment. "No privacy. Cameras in your face all the time. Does that ever get tiresome?"

He stretched his legs luxuriously. "I love it. I mean, there are times of course where I wish that I could, um- but nothing's perfect, you know what I mean? I'd rather be somebody than nobody."

"I'm just the opposite. I'll take my privacy and quiet little world. Keep the cameras."

He smirked, rolling his eyes. "Just words, dear. Deep down, everyone wants to be a star."

"White dwarf or blue supergiant?"

Freddie recoiled dramatically. "Oh, no! This is a cosmic universe-astronomy-science free zone! You want to talk like that, hide in Brian's closet next time!"

I laughed. Oh! Speaking of science, I said to myself. I should be getting that call from Dr. K pretty soon. I reached into my shirt and checked my tracker for the blue light.

But I saw no blue light. I frowned. There wasn't even a red light.

The tracker wasn't glowing at all.

"That's weird," I said aloud, my pulse quickening.

Freddie turned. "What?"

"The light's out," I said. I thought of the Relic. Maybe it was off, or had run out of power. I reached into my backpack, rummaged around for it. I looked again. Then I started pulling things out, ran my hand along the bottom. Double checked. Triple checked. Checked my pockets. My heart fluttered.

I couldn't find it.

"Oh no," I whispered. "Oh no, oh no, oh no."

Freddie looked concerned. "What's wrong, darling?"

"The Relic's gone."

"What?"

"That little phone I showed you! It's gone! Do you have it?"

"Who wants to know?"

"FREDDIE!"

"Sorry. No, I don't."

"Oh, God," I murmured, putting my face in my hands. Don't panic, Julia, don't panic, maybe you left it at his apartment- But I hadn't! I was certain of it. I remembered checking the Relic some time today, and setting it down-

Oh, crap. I might have left it in one of the dressing rooms!

"Freddie, we've got to go back," I stated.

"What?"

"I left it behind! I have to go find it!"

"Relax, it's just a phone."

"JUST A-" I cut myself off, tried to calm down, forced myself to remember that this was my fault, not his. I started again, my voice a squeak of emotion, "It is not just a phone, Freddie, it is my way back! This thing only works well enough to tell me if they have my signal; the Relic sends the signal!"

He waved at my panic attack like he would shoo away a fly. "This is simple. I'll buy you a new one."

I lost it. "Throwing money at a problem doesn't work, Freddie! That phone was my way home, without it I'm stuck here bothering you! I have to go get it because THOSE THINGS DON'T EXIST YET! YOU CAN'T JUST GO FIND ANO-"

"Darling, control yourself." Freddie's voice was stern. "Breathe."

He held my face in his hands. I closed my eyes and breathed.

When I'd settled down, he let go and continued, "Look. It's bound to be gone by now. Little technology bits like that don't last long when they're left alone. Someone probably has it."

"Are you saying I shouldn't even go look for it?" I stared at him in disbelief.

"I just don't think it's worth your while. In fact, I know it's not. Let's go home. For all you know, you might have left it somewhere there."

"But I had it with me today-"

"Are you sure?"

"I did!" I cried. And then my head played that age-old trick. As soon as I needed clarity in the cerebrum, it was as though some cloth slid across my mind's eye, and I could remember no moment where I checked the Relic while out today. It had become second nature to me, by now, just like when I used to look over the headlines in class; I did it absent-mindedly, without paying much attention. I couldn't recall the Relic and the stores together at the same time.

"Didn't I?" I murmured. My head ached from thinking so hard, trying to remember. I put my face into my hands, leaned against my knees. Frightened tears were coming. Breathe, stupid, I kept telling myself. Breathe, like he said. Do not cry in front of him. That won't make you sympathetic, that'll make you chick-y, and right now that won't help.

"Hey," he said softly as his smooth hand started rubbing a circle into my back, "don't cry. It's all right. Everything's all right."

"I'm not going to cry," I managed. And I didn't. Crying is the worst, and I'm absolutely hideous when I do. "I just can't remember."

"Dear, don't worry. I've had a lovely time with you today. Don't let's end it in tears. Whatever is the matter, it's all going to work out in the end."

"Easy for you to say," I whispered into my hands. "You're not trapped in the land of Yesteryear."

"What's that? Didn't hear you."

I sat up. "Nothing." I felt the blood slowly leave my cheeks, and my breathing leveled out again. "I'm okay. Just hope you don't mind me turning the flat upside down once we get back."

"Now, that's my Evie!" he sang, and threw his arms around my neck. As if from a distance, I noticed how my skin prickled at his touch. I didn't know what to make of the feeling, so I made nothing of it at all. To be nice, I put one arm round his waist and hugged back. Such a tactile character.

"As for me," Freddie went on, "I'm going to step out right after dinner, there's something I've got to go, um, talk with the boys about."

"Sounds good," I nodded, but I clenched my fists so tightly my knuckles turned pale. Freddie was probably right. At least, that's what I deeply hoped. I had to find the Relic. Or else I was stuck here for the rest of my life with no identity, and no family, and no purpose.