Meanwhile, Jon stirred on his own. He was still irritable. He had to find the stone before someone else got it, like his stupid sister. He snuck into the other bedroom to find it.
It wasn't there either, amidst all the trappings of a Goth life. But the room seemed a lot cooler to him than it had before. In the mood he was in, black walls and black curtains seemed perfect.
"Jon, time to wake up," his mother said, banging on the door.
Jon felt a smattering of negative feelings toward his mother. Then he blinked and pinched himself, suddenly aware of how he'd been acting...namely like Zoe. He hadn't become Zoe or anything weird, but he'd had her attitude. And it had felt totally normal...even good.
No wonder his mother had been surprised to see Zoe in this room. If he had Zoe's attitude, he might have her Gothic tastes as well. There was something he felt he was missing with that theory, but he wasn't sure what.
He hurried out into the hallway and bumped into Zoe coming out of the shower. "Watch where you're..." he pinched himself again. "I'm turning into you."
"Come again?" she said.
"Not literally. I'm thinking like you. That's why we're in the wrong rooms, or related."
"That's crazy."
He was about to blow up at her when he pinched himself again. It reminded him to keep his temper. "It's happening anyway," he said. "Even if you don't believe in magic."
"I believe in magic," she said. "I just don't believe I'm acting like you."
"And you're using my towel!" Jon said. "How many times do I have to tell you to lay off my stuff? Give it back."
"I am not getting naked in front of you," Zoe said, growing annoyed. "Grow up, Jon. Use a different towel. Use mine if you want." Distracted, she headed across the hall...into Jon's room.
"Fuckin' bitch," he muttered. What had he been talking about? He was angry again, and headed to the shower.
