It's either I tell a lie she probably won't believe, or tell a truth she also probably won't believe, Jon had reflected sometime earlier, in frustration. What will she believe!? Linda was going to be expecting something good at lunch, he knew, and mother have mercy, the clock was counting down to that bell ringing!
Jon was grateful he had thought to buy himself time, at least. "...Look, Mo-... Z-... Linda!" he said to her back then, and could have kicked himself for almost messing up her name, twice. "Honestly, I really do have something I've been needing to tell you, but..." Jon's feminine voice had trailed off a minute as he rushed to think of something. "...this isn't the time or place. Class is starting real soon, and it's not the sort of thing I want being being spread around, you know? When, uh... we're somewhere we can talk longer, and more in private, I'll tell you. I promise."
Linda's face was a very unhappy mixture of skepticism, disappointment, concern, and curiosity, but thankfully, she seemed to have bought it. "...Okay," she replied, eventually. "At lunch, then. I'll find you, and we'll bring our food somewhere secluded to talk. You'll tell me then?"
Slowly, Jon nodded. "...Yeah." I hope I know what I'm committing to, he had thought.
"Alright." The conversation could have dropped right there, and inside Jon was willing her to go away and give him a few moment's peace, but she didn't. After a moment's hesitation, she added "Jenny, you know you can trust me, right? I'm not mad, or upset, or anything, I just wanna help out. That's what friends are for, right?"
That wasn't as reassuring as Linda might've hoped; it just made Jon feel that much more sorry for her, losing a friend without even knowing it, and guilty himself for being responsible for it. "I know, I know. I'm just... not ready yet," Jon explained. Reluctantly, Linda let him be.
The rest of the morning went by about as smoothly as Jon could possibly have hoped it would. Part of him still worried about getting a schedule from Mrs. Finch, as the middle-aged version of her seemed to have had a lie detector installed in her brain, but it turned out he should've been more concerned about her abilities to use the copy machine, since that gave her more trouble than obliviously accepting his excuses about losing his ID and his class schedule. Math was still Math, Chemistry was still Chemistry, and the group project he apparently had in Civics was just about handled by his group partner Laura, whom he quickly found out was a teacher's pet and doing it all herself, albeit while giving him a judgy glare for not contributing more. The only part of morning classes that really stood out to him was Gym, and that was solely because it meant he had to change clothes as a girl, with the girls, in the locker room for the girls. Worse, one of those girls happened to be Jon's mother, whom he knew was watching her every minute they were in class together, including in the locker room. Still, all that really meant was a few minutes staring at a wall and trying not to blush as he changed into and out of Jenny's gym clothes; the rest of gym was spent just jogging, a task for which he was actually grateful, since for him it basically meant a half hour of running out his stresses while contemplating what he was supposed to do as Linda's newest oldest BFF.
But that was then, and this was now, where "now" meant the lunch bell ringing with him still uncertain and dreadful of how the talk with Linda would go. Jon composed himself, took a deep breath, and then headed to the lunchroom (this, thankfully, was a near-exact duplicate of the lunchroom he'd know decades later, aside from some changes to the menu and the branding on the vending machines. Hooray for inflation?).
As promised, Linda found Jon within seconds of his entry to the lunchroom, and from there escorted him to the line for food. "How're ya feeling, Jenny?" she asked. "Has everything gone alright?"
"Everything's gone so well it's surprising," Jon replied, honestly.
Linda didn't quite seem to believe it, but she didn't say anything. "Are you ready to talk?" came instead.
Jon sighed. "You aren't gonna believe a word of what I'm about to tell you, Linda," he said dejectedly. "But yes."
Soon enough, they had a light meal in hand, and had found a nice, isolated corner of the courtyard where they could talk in relative peace.
"Alright," Jon began. "So, first of all, how's your dad doing?"
Linda gave him a look. "Still on the South American expedition," she replied. "In Puno, Peru right now, and apparently getting close to something big, according to his most recent phone call."
Jon blinked in surprise, suddenly taken off-guard. This wouldn't happen to be that expedition, would it!? "And when's he getting back?" Jon asked, trying to keep his voice and expression calm.
"Sometime this upcoming month. Depends on how the work goes, I think. Why do you ask?" Linda raised a curious eyebrow.
"Well, Linda, you know what your dad does, right?" Jon asked, trying to gently lead her into it.
"Well, he's an archaeologist. He finds old places, writes a lot about 'em, finds and catalogues a lot of artifacts, fights Nazis, melts faces off, gets the girl and rides into the sunset, you know. Typical white collar stuff, like in Indiana Jones." Her delivery was almost totally deadpan, but a grin started spreading across Linda's face.
That would be a fairly recent movie, wouldn't it? Jon thought, definitely not laughing. "He finds artifacts. Right. What if I told you one of the artifacts he's finding isn't just any old rock to catalogue?" Jon leaned in furtively, lowering his voice. "What if I told you it was something really special?"
That got Linda interested. "Special how?"
"Special like, if he hadn't ever found it, that car wouldn't have missed me yesterday."
There was a long silence. Linda was searching her friend's serious face for everything it had to tell her. "C'mon, Jenny, that wasn't funny," she said eventually. "Be serious about that kind of stuff!"
"I am. I'm 100% sure that if it weren't for that artifact, that car would've slammed square into my body, and I'm 150% sure that it's the reason I've been acting so weird to you." Jon's face got a bit more desperate, and his speech slowed in emphasis of the next point, though he still kept his voice low. "I am not supposed to be here, Linda."
Linda looked away and leaned back in obvious contemplation. She didn't believe it yet, but she wasn't rejecting it outright, by the look in her eyes; she was just letting it really sink in.
"Just so we're clear," she asked eventually, "you're saying that my dad, Arthur Doyle, has found a magic talisman that saved your life, in exchange for making you... like you've been, ever since the accident?"
"Yep, that's the gist of it," Jon confirmed. Linda didn't need to know the bits about Jon being her son or the mind/body swap or much about the time travel, at least not yet; if she figured any of that out on her own, great, but if not, Jon didn't want to tell her that if he didn't have to.
"I know how ridiculous it sounds, Linda. I'm not really expecting you'll believe me right away; I wouldn't if I hadn't seen it all myself. But it's the truth, girl, and right now, I'd really appreciate it if you could just trust me on this one. Can you do that for me?" Jon implored, getting the best puppy-eyes he could out of Jenny's face.
A moment of silence passed by. Then another. Then another. Finally, Linda slowly began to nod. "Yeah. You're being sincere, as far as I can tell. I trust you."
Jon let out a long, deep breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, and a smile spread itself wide over Jenny's face. "Thank you, Linda! You're the first one to know; you have no idea what that means to me!"
"You're very welcome, though I'd say 'know' is a bit of a stretch, here," she replied, still looking uncertain. "And I guess that means Dad doesn't know this has happened, either?"
"No, he doesn't. In fact, I'll be needing to talk with him as soon as I can, maybe call him up where he's at in Puno. You can give me his number, right?"
"What do you mean?" Linda looked confused.
Right, right, cellphones weren't all that common in the 80s, Jon reminded himself. "I mean, he left a number you could reach him at while he's in South America, didn't he?" he asked less certainly.
Linda bit her lip and tried to think. "Maaaybe? That's a question you'd need to ask my Mom," she replied. "Sometimes we can reach him, sometimes we can't; depends on the expedition, really. He always calls us on Sunday if he can, though."
Jon nodded. "Okay; I can work with that, that's alright," he said as much to himself as Linda. "Thanks. I have a, uh... much bigger favor to ask of you, though, Linda."
"And what's that?" she asked, rubbing her temples and looking generally awful; it wasn't quite as bad as when Jon realized he was someone else, but he knew the feeling.
"I need your help piecing my life back together."
Linda gave that look of confusion again. "And what does that mean?"
"So, uh... think of someone you don't know very well. Like, you've only ever heard rumors and news stories and so on about this person. Now imagine you suddenly had to live the life of this person as if it were yours." Pause. "That's me. I barely know who I am anymore. Don't know who I'm supposed to be or what I'm supposed to do; I've just been faking it all day." To Linda's skeptical look, he continued "I can't explain it any better than that. Look, I don't really how any of the magic whatever works; that's just how it is. Test me if you like, I probably won't know anything before the accident yesterday that someone else hasn't told me since."
"You knew about Dad's work..." Linda pointed out.
"Yes, but that's a really special case," Jon persisted. "Something else, though?"
"It's fine, Jenny; I already said I trust you." Something told Jon she still wasn't really believing it, though. "Is there anything else you need while you're asking?"
"Not right away, no. I'll need to ask you a bit more later about your dad's expedition, but that can wait," Jon replied. "I am hungry, though, and it looks like neither of us have touched our food."
Linda looked down at her lunch tray as though she were seeing it for the first time. "No, I suppose we haven't."
"We can at least remedy that one right now. I say we dig in!" Jon said, grabbing an apple and taking a bite.
Linda didn't move. She seemed suddenly to grow very sad; like it was just then fully hitting her that her friend was supposed to be dead, and instead she was "just" amnesiac, and all the rest. She wasn't crying yet, but it looked an awful lot like she was getting there fast.
Jon swallowed his bite and put his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, look at me." Slowly, Linda looked up and looked into her old friend's eyes. "It's going to be alright. Maybe I'm not exactly the Jenny Pierce I was at this time yesterday, but I do still love you!" As a son and not a friend, but whatever. "Just like you told me this morning. You can trust me; that's what friends are for, after all."
Linda gave Jon a tight hug, and started to cry.
