Naked nap on the gym bleachers!

Hand gently shaking his shoulder!

Hmm? "I'm up, I'm up," he says, a bit groggily, sitting up.

"Grand. Why were you asleep in the gym half an hour after school?"

(The bleachers are no longer pulled out. James has been sleeping on the floor, and has a slight crick in his neck as a result. Also, his pants are sticky.)

"I—was—you—" He blinks many times. He had a wet dream in the gym? So it was all a dream before? But wait what about the... September Bacchanal thing...

His bag, his handbook, that passage?

Hazing is not to be tolerated - transfer students are to be welcomed with open arms and open hearts.

He has no memory of going to the gym. (Well, no, he does. He remembers going with the crowd, seeing Edmund and the others, the Bacchanal - but he doesn't remember anything consistent with the evidence to hand, which is that school ended, he walked to the gym alone, and took a nap on the floor.)

Edmund is looking at him very oddly.

"I—you would not believe me if I told you. I don't believe me."

He starts leafing through the handbook—he wants to prove to himself he's not going crazy, is there anything more mild he could edit...?

There's plenty. The name of the school? The dress code? There's a list of items students aren't allowed to bring to school?

"You realize that that makes me more curious."

Name of the school! ...uh. Uh. Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

The school is now called "Wilson Woodrow High" instead. Look he's not at his most creative right now please excuse him. He puts his handbook down and, and... does he feel like taking a nap?

Nope!

...shit, was it all just a dream, then?

"Uh, just to check, what's the name of this school?" is what he asks Edmund instead of... giving any explanations.

"Wilson Woodrow High School, named after your president Wilson Woodrow I assume. Are you in fact having a psychotic break."

"God above I hope not, but here, please—" He presses the handbook and his pen into Edmund's hands. "Here, cross the words 'Wilson Woodrow' out and replace them with 'Woodrow Wilson'."

He does so.

He hands the book back.

"What the fuck -"

"—what? What happened?"

"I've got - double vision but in my memory? There's a world where Woodrow Wilson is Woodrow Wilson and one where he's Wilson Woodrow - honestly I think the latter makes more sense but agh that's weird."

"Wait you get to keep both memories? Why. I only have memories of this timeline!"

"You're jealous of my migraine. Cheers. -wait, what did you do to the timeline?"

He slumps forward, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. "I don't suppose if I said 'changed the name of the school to Wilson Woodrow' you would believe me?"

"I absolutely would not. I'm guessing you didn't do it on purpose - which means it was something you wouldn't ordinarily do - did it involve me in particular - ah."

Edmund sits down next to James and pats him on the head. "There there? I don't hate you for, uh, whatever you did?"

"Oh you were enjoying yourself immensely," he says, still covering his eyes.

"...um?"

He sighs. "Uh. I. Changed the part of the book about hazing and transfer students. I said that hazing happened on the first day of school... and that transfer students were to be welcomed with the traditional start-of-year orgy. Mr. Dresden said you were, and I quote, 'public property'."

"That's. Really hot, actually?"

"It was really hot, I spitroasted you with this other guy, I think his name's Kevin? You were apparently really good at blowjobs."

Why is he saying this whatever this is his life now. He's still not quite up to looking up, though.

"But you're still guilty about something."