"I'm Linda Doyle," his mother said. "And that's Jenny Pierce."
Miss McKay recognized the name. "You're the girl who nearly got killed the other night. Are you all right?" She put a hand on Jon's shoulder.
"I'm fine," Jon said, softly, imagining how things would be different now if he hadn't changed them.
"Well, it was nice meeting you girls. I hope to see you in the library soon." She retreated.
"I wish people would stop reminding me," Jon said.
"They're worried about you. I'm worried about you," Linda said. "You haven't been acting like yourself."
"Well, how am I supposed to act?" Jon blurted out, a bit annoyed, without meaning to sound so. He was a teenage girl, years before he was even born. Now he wasn't acting like a person he didn't even know.
"You're my best friend," Linda insisted. "We tell each other everything. Like that dream you had about the dorky guy after we saw Pretty in Pink. And ever since the accident, you walk, talk, and look like my best friend, but you act like a stranger."
It was clear Jon couldn't keep up this lie for long with her. But what was he going to tell her. He couldn't tell her that her future son was possessing her best friend, who was supposed to be dead.
