Zoe had almost completely forgotten about her brother by the time she and her best friend, Athena, split off to go to their separate first period classes. But, books in arm, she happened to cross Sarah McMillan in the hallway and as if by reflex leaned a bit closer to her to say "Thanks for the advice, I think it's working," before continuing on her way.
Sarah paused. What advice? Who was that goth girl, anyway, did Sarah know her?
Well, Sarah thought to herself as she continued on her way, when you stand out as much as someone like Sarah does, sometimes people feel like they know you even if you've never spoken.
But still, the thought nagged at her. When had she given that girl advice?
It danced in the back of her head as she half-paid attention to first period biology. Then second period trigonometry. Then third period Spanish.
"Tengo hambre," Señora Valasquez announced as the bell to end her class rang. "I'm glad this class is scheduled for first lunch."
Sarah was glad, too. Three hours of wracking her brain had eventually shaken out the memory of seeing the girl from that morning at lunch, eating alone. This would be her opportunity.
The reason Zoe sat alone was because her friends all had second lunch. It was fine, she'd usually just pull on her bluetooth headphones and chill. But on this day, before she quite had time for that, she was approached by a familiar face.
"Sarah?"
The older girl sat down on the seat next to Zoe, giving the younger girl a sense of deja vu. Something about contrasting dark and light. Something about bleachers. No, the thought was gone.
"Why did you thank me this morning?" Sarah asked.
"What?"
"This morning in the hallway," Sarah went on, "you said 'thanks for the advice.' When did I give you advice?"
Bleachers. Getting under Jon's skin. Everything came back to Zoe with a fierce suddenness. "The dream!" She hadn't meant to say that out loud.
"The dream?"
Zoe felt a little embarrassed, but explained anyway.
"Wait, you think I know how to get under your brother's skin?" Sarah asked. "Who's your brother?"
"Jon," Zoe answered. "Gibson."
The gears turned in Sarah's head for a moment, then a slightly devious smile lit up her face. "Jon Gibson? You want to get under his skin? Well, forget about your dreams little girl, you're working with the real Sarah McMillan now."
