It was day six of the reality split. Jon's teacher had told the class that morning that the quarantine had been lifted; it had been made clear to the investigating officials that the majority of changes were temporary, and with the change toll in the rest of the world racking up as fast as the bad P.R. was domestically, it had been decided that the quarantine was both costly and, in the long run, ineffective. The CDC had decided that normal disease-control measures would have to do, the state government had promised to make the transition back to reality as easy as possible for the affected townships, and everybody was breathing a little easier.
On a more personal note, it was also day three of Zoe's return home fron San Diego. So far, she hadn't changed, although she was still pretty nervous about the time until the 72-hour infectious period was up. Jon hadn't felt pedantic enough to point out that the 72-hour figure was only approximate, but she did note that even if Zoe experienced a change, the odds were good that it wouldn't be permanent. Still, this did little to soothe Zoe's nerves; Jon gathered that she was most worried about being left unable to play the harp. She knew how much Zoe enjoyed music, and it was understandable that she'd be afraid, since her siblings had become creatures that were six inches tall and lacking hands, respectively, but Jon was glad there was less than a day left of this; Zoe could get pretty irritable when she was nervous.
Jon had just gotten her locker open when she heard a thudding sound coming down the hallway. It sounded like a wildebeest stampede, but the voices shouting above the din made it a safer bet that it was actually some of the male athletes. Jon had barely had time to figure all this out when a small figure darted around the corner and nearly collided with her.
She could have told it was Sarah without even looking; he was the only other pixie in the school, maybe even the only other pixie in the world, now. He was visibly panicking, and Jon guessed he was looking for a place to hide. She indicated the inside of her locker. Sarah hesitated for a moment, but the stampede was getting closer, and he ducked inside. Jon shut the door just before the herd of athletes rounded the corner. It was actually only half a dozen guys, but they made enough noise for twenty. Jon didn't like to stereotype, but these were guys to whom the term "jock," with all the negative connotations, could be accurately applied. She edged back a bit, wondering what they wanted.
Steve Farber was in the lead, and he looked ready to pounce for a moment before a look of surprise spread across his face. Jon realized he must have mistaken her for Sarah, which was easy to do from adistance. He stepped toward her, not actively threatening, but not looking very friendly, either. "Hey, Tinkerbell!" he said, gruffly. "Where'd McMillan go?"
"Sarah?" Jon asked, trying to appear disinterested, although she wanted to throttle him for the nickname. She could see Biff Meadows, the football captain, looking a bit uneasy at the mention of his ex-girlfriend's name. Funny, she'd always assumed they had one of those popular-kid relationships of convenience; maybe they had had feelings for each other after all. Oh well, that was none of her business.
"Yeah, the little fairy," Steve said, making the double-entendre less than subtle. "He just came through here."
Jon shrugged. "I dunno, I wasn't paying attention," she replied. "I heard someone go past towards the bathrooms, but I'm not sure if it was Sarah or not."
Steve took off as abruptly as he'd arrived, and the rest of the jocks followed suit. "Bye," Jon muttered, under her breath. "Hope you turn into friggin' mermaids." She opened the locker back up slightly and flitted inside. Sarah was huddled up on the shelf, and she touched down next to him. "Hey," she said. "If they're coming after you, take it to the teachers or something, don't just hide."
Sarah eyed her suspiciously. "Why are you being nice to me?" he asked. "You'd better not be crushing on me; that's the last thing I need right now."
Jon nearly burst out laughing at the suggestion, but she was kind of miffed at the same time. "Don't be absurd!" she said. "I just try to be nice to people, that's all. Seriously, tell the school officials about it. They shouldn't be doing that."
"Why the hell not?" Sarah asked, bitterly. "That's the way school works. I just got tossed back to the bottom, is all. It's not like I don't deserve this; why shouldn't they do it?"
Jon placed her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. "Is that a rhetorical question?" she sighed. "Geez, you'd think someone so unused to being picked on would be the most vocally against it when he's finally on the other side. Well, if you won't tell them, I will."
Sarah frowned and sputtered angrily. "F-f-fine!" he snapped, zooming back out of the locker and down the hall. Jon groaned. How did she wind up defending Sarah McMillan, of all people? Shaking her head, she dropped off her books and headed off to lunch.
