"Who is it?" Jillian called out as she came to the door, though she already knew.
"It's Zoe," came the familiar voice, one that had yelled at Jon from the other side of dinner tables, bedroom walls, and bathroom doors, for years.
Jillian disengaged the multiple locks her mom - - Mrs. Farber anyway - - had gotten installed after yesterday's "break-in" and swung the door open. Unsure what to do or how she should greet her, Jillian simply met Zoe's eyes and said in a neutral voice, "Zoe, I'm so glad you came." If she was too bubbly and brittle like the persona she was forced to adopt with Sarah and the girls Zoe would completely shut her down and leave.
Zoe held the moment a second longer than seemed usual, returning Jillian's look with an unreadable one of her own. The brief eye contact told Jillian something was definitely different about Zoe, she seemed more confident, less in need of something to prove, not so strident. She had the stone, maybe not with her, but Zoe had it, Jillian was sure of it.
"Well, come on in," Jillian continued a little uncertainly, waving to the interior of the house.
"Sure," Zoe smiled, chuckling a little, and stepped over the threshold.
Zoe wasn't a vampire and didn't need permission to enter a home, not much could keep her out now anyway, but right up until she did it Zoe wasn't quite sure if she was going to. Was this bitch for real? She looked like some kind of slut guys dragged home from a rave. She probably didn't even listen to the Sex Pistols. Not that Zoe did either, but at least she knew who they were. Maybe this was a mistake...
She did have that dream though. Or at least she said she did. She couldn't have been spying on me, could she? Zoe's mind was occupied with those and similar thoughts as she followed Jillian's swaying bottom in the trampy cut-offs through the foyer and down the hall.
"So what are you doing?" Zoe asked without much interest, looking at pictures along the wall. Jillian as a baby, being baptized. Jillian as a little girl, dressed up for some school play. Gawky middle school Jillian in a dress and sporting braces, showing off a small gold cross on a chain around her neck. Jillian as she was now, at the beach in a dark blue one piece next to an older woman that looked a lot like her in a scanty string bikini, Mrs. Farber.
"Not much. Just watching an old horror movie," Jillian shrugged, pausing by the entrance to the living room.
"Oh yeah? What one?"
"Urban Legends, it's kind of," Jillian was about to shrug again.
"Awesome, right?" Zoe actually smiled a real smile this time, Jillian could tell from years as the goth girl's big brother, "I know it's totally cheesy, but I used to love watching it when I was a kid. I love all those old 90s horror movies."
"I know, right? Remember - - Screamers?" Jillian thought she rather smoothly jumped on the bandwagon there, "We can watch it if you want."
"No, it's cool. I've seen it a million times," Zoe's voice lost some of its brief warmth as she remembered her purpose, "Let's check out your room. I want to hear more about this dream."
"You sure? My mom had some wine we could drink," Jillian had checked earlier and there were several bottles in a modestly well stocked cabinet in the dining room, cognac and brandy too. Zoe's cutting right to the chase unnerved her a little.
"Sure, wine is cool, let's drink some, but I wanted to tell you about a dream of mine too," Zoe gave the stairway a glance and was satisfied to see Jillian nod.
Jillian grabbed a bottle of dark red wine and two glasses from the liquor cabinet. Both girls thought it tasted terrible, but neither wanted to ruin their image in front of the other so they continued to drink it as Zoe looked around Jillian's room and made small talk. Jillian was pleased it seemed to pass Zoe's inspection. Her former sister was a little taken aback by the huge Simon Bisley poster and said so, "Wow. Uh, not what I would have expected. Sick. That girl, she kind of..."
Jillian knew she was going to say, "...kind of looks like you," but didn't think she could bear to hear it. Jumping in, "She's bad ass, I know. She's like my - - fairy godmother or something."
"And the guy?" Zoe was still eyeing the print, giving it a second look, curious in spite of her cool act. The guy was some kind of steroid-powered barbarian in a black iron mask. Was this what Miss Jersey Shore was into?
"I don't know, the Black Knight, I guess," Jillian made an airy gesture, the wine loosening her up, an image of Moose briefly flashing across her mind's eye.
"Prince Charming?" Zoe murmurred almost to herself, warming to the idea, "Death himself?"
"Maybe, I dunno," Jillian grew uncomfortable with that particular line of thinking. Zoe was actually kind of weird, wasn't she? She picked up a neaby book and proffered it to her guest, "Oh, here, Paradise Lost, did you ever read this?"
"Uh, no," Zoe looked at the cover depicting a muscular man with black wings falling out of the sky, "Is it about Led Zeppelin or something?"
"Um," Jillian frowned, remembering she hadn't read most of this junk either. Luckily she had played a video game with a plot loosely based on Milton's classic, "It's actually about Lucifer falling into hell and gathering his army, Leviathan and Behemoth and other demons."
"Cool," Zoe took the book from her hand, briefly scanned the cover once more, and decided Jillian Farber had a thing for big naked guys with muscles, "I like your room. Your bed is awesome."
Without waiting to be invited Zoe put the book aside and sat on the edge of the massive four posted bed. She briefly picked up one of the comics, looked at it with a smirk, and lightly tossed it aside. Jillian felt a brief spike of irritation at how Zoe treated her stuff with such casual contempt, but she choked it down. To be fair, the Jon inside Jillian thought most of the crap in her room was pretty lame too. "Thanks," Jillian said instead.
"So were you sleeping here when you had the dream?" Zoe ran a hand over the red silk sheets, deciding she would wish up some for her own bed when she got back home.
"Yeah," Jillian took a sip of her wine and sat down on the bed beside the other girl. Zoe was half reclined against a plush pillow, legs trailing off the edge of the bed. "I stayed up 'til midnight, reading Paradise Lost until I fell asleep. I had a dream about black flames and bottomless pits. There was a red glow coming from one of the pits and it rose up into the air like the sun, but when the dream changed it didn't look huge. It was a stone and a girl was holding it in her hand. At first I thought it was me, but she put it in the hollowed out book, the one about Edgar Allen Poe? After that she looked into the mirror and I saw your face and a voice said your name - - Zoe."
Zoe's eyes were cat-like and watchful, but she kept leaning in as Jillian lowered her voice ever further until ending her little story with a suitably spooky whisper, "...Zoe." Jillian was rather proud of herself. She had invented almost all of that on the spot and Zoe was buying it. She was fumbling for her cigarettes, which Jon's little sister always did when she was nervous - - a Mom wasn't around.
"Do you mind if I smoke?" Zoe had already taken her pack of Dunhills from a small clutch purse. Jillian decided that since her new mother, Mrs. Farber, smoked she probably wouldn't notice the smell coming from her room for a change, "No, go ahead."
Zoe lit up. While she did so, Jillian fetched a small glass ashtray from the bathroom. On her way back in, the older girl casually peered out the bedroom window while Zoe wasn't looking. No car in the driveway. How did Zoe get here? If she wished to be here, reality would have changed to make it plausible, right? She took a cab, a friend dropped her off, something. Jillian hated to admit it, but having lost the stone so soon after inheriting it she just didn't have enough experience with wishing to know for sure.
"So how did you get here?" Jillian settled back down on the bed beside Zoe. She was nervous and a little scared herself. Zoe might have the stone on her right now for all the good it did Jillian. The wrong word or a premature move might ruin everything. She had to play a dangerous game of cat and mouse, stalking Zoe without her ever realizing it. Of course, as Jillian was discovering, danger excited her.
"I walked," Zoe replied, snapping shut her old wheel and flint style lighter, sighing in gratitude after the first drag and exhale.
"Cool, you must live close by. We should hang out at your place sometime," Jillian rolled her eyes, "My mom can be kind of a bitch."
"Mine too," Zoe took another drag, "But I live over in downtown Lake Pointe off Holyoak."
"And you walked? Wow," Jillian otherwise let the statement slide. Zoe felt the need to embellish, "That's why it took me so long to get here."
Bullshit, thought Jillian. On sudden impulse she almost said "Sure you didn't fly here?" Zoe seemed like she might wish for something like the power of flight. Reason won that round. No sense in tipping her hand too soon. Jillian smiled at her new "friend," unconsciously rubbing her thighs together.
There was this immense feeling of power. Jillian felt almost like a deep-cover cop or a secret agent. She knew things Zoe didn't know. She knew Zoe herself better than many of her so-called friends. Zoe thought she was someone that she wasn't. The goth girl could never in a million years have suspected her long lost brother was hiding behind Jillian's face, waiting to pounce upon the stone as soon as she saw it. A few seconds could decide everything, the right few seconds. Zoe might have the limitless power of the stone, but Jillian had the all important edge of surprise, and that was a very exciting feeling.
Zoe was a little uncomfortable with how close the older girl was sitting to her. But vapid party girls like Jillian are like that, Zoe rationalized, always kissing and hugging and playing with each others hair. Trying to cover her uneasiness, Zoe proferred the pack, half blurting out "Want one?" until her arm accidentally brushed the side of Jillian's boob. Zoe swallowed hard and ended with, "Oh my God, I'm so sorry."
"It's okay, me too," Jillian made a face, her cute pointy little nose wrinkling up, "These things kinda get in the way." As if to illustrate, she stuck her chest out a little and wriggled in an uncomfortable way."
"No, they're great, really," Zoe couldn't help staring a little. The black bra Jillian had on showed plainly through the thin white tee shirt. Holy shit, are her nipples hard? They are.
Zoe swallowed and looked up, waving the pack of cigarettes again. Jillian had a strange unreadable look on her face. Zoe tried again, "Sure you don't want one?"
"Nah," Jillian shrugged and Zoe couldn't help but follow the little half bounce of the two impishly erect nipples. Jillian didn't seem to notice, nervously twirling the end of one pigtail as she eyed the open pack, "I never really tried them."
"Sure, whatever," Zoe dropped her hand, eyes hooded, suddenly a little disengaged.
Jillian watched her, mind racing, trying to think of a way to draw her back in. Boys? No, Jon never really heard Zoe talk about boys. Magic? The problem there was Jillian didn't really know enough to fake it. She had gotten lucky with the video game connection already. What was wrong with Zoe anyway? She was all over the place tonight.
Stress inspired a dull ache in the middle of her back and Jillian wished she were reclining against a pillow like Zoe instead of sitting cross-ways beside her. Arching her back, briefly trying to work out the kink in it, Jillian noticed Zoe stealing a look at her as she straightened back out. Zoe wasn't looking at her face though. A thought occurred to Jillian, a possibility she had never before considered. She had snuck plenty of similar peeks as Jon. It couldn't be, could it? She had to try.
"You really think my boobs are great?" Jillian said in a slightly nervous voice. When she was sure Zoe was looking she gently hefted them in her hands.
Zoe looked away, took a drag on her smoke, looked back, "Yes, really, they're perfect."
"Yeah?" Jillian compressed them a little, which immediatly generated some impressive cleavage, "My butt is so big I sort of wish they were bigger so I would totally balance out."
"No," Zoe said slowly, a little hypnotized by the show accompanying Jillian's casual conversation about her breasts, "I think you're already set, Jillian. I'm kind of jealous. Just the other day I thought, I wish my boobs were bigger."
"Ow, stupid smoke," Jillian rubbed at the corner of one eye.
"Sorry," Zoe made a guilty face, though not perhaps for the reason Jillian might think. There was a disquieting ripple through both her breasts.
"It's okay," Jillian leaned forward, eyes intent on Zoe's face, pretending not to notice the other girl's gently expanding bustline. Leaning into the younger woman, reaching across her body, their faces very close, Jillian took the cigarette from Zoe's hand, "Here, let me."
"What are you...," Zoe began, her voice shaky with fear and husky with some terrible new emotion. She trailed off not sure what she wanted Jillian to do.
Jillian puffed on the smoke with her plump, pouty lips and gave a lazy exhale, "I'm putting out a fire." The older girl leaned further into Zoe, mashing her left breast into Zoe's, arm extended, stubbing out the smoke in the tiny ashtray. It was hard to tell through the strange still unfamiliar sensory input of her own boob, but Zoe's tits were definitely bigger. It was confirmed. Jillian hadn't winced from the smoke.
Zoe had the stone with her.
