"Then I suppose that makes us a pair of interesting people." Gansey can't sit still any more. His nerves are strung with so much potential that the energy converts itself kinetic in self-defense.

Many moments feel timeless to Gansey, stretched and syrupy from being lived over and over. It's especially frequent in places of routine. For example, a university. On an autumn day students constantly are-were-will be sitting in classroom seats, professors will be-were-are at the blackboard lecturing them. Someone is always making coffee. Deja vu is less an odd sensation and more his life experience. This moment feels like fledgling so brand new its wings are still wet, or maybe like the point of a needle. Either way, it's not a moment to sit idly through; he's never been in it before. Gansey stands, an uncoiling of limbs, and offers a hand to pull Iggy up as well.

"Walk with me? There has been an overabundance of Gansey in this conversation. You've been terribly patient. I would love to hear about you."