Genora opened her computer during lunch, debated for a moment, then decided it would be alright. Lula always had her computer open, and Genora was fairly certain she wouldn't have left for school yet.

Her gamble paid. A minute later, the grinning woman was looking out from Genora's computer screen.

"Hey-ho Ginny-o! What you doing calling now?"

"Oh, please not that loud Lula."

"Ai senorita!" Lula exclaimed, concerned. "You look like someone with a hangover. Still got that headache?"

"Yes. I've been eating aspirin all day, and I still feel as though I've been hit with a frying pan."

Lula looked at Genora for a long moment. "Have you eaten anything funny? Class been bad? Up too late?"

"Not exactly…" Genora sighed. "Lula, have you ever daydreamed? I mean, daydreamed so vividly it felt more like a memory?"

"Nope. I've daydreamed things I wish were memories, if you know what I mean." Lula wiggled her eyebrows and Genora shook her head in gentle reproof.

"I thought you people were supposed to be reserved about this sort of thing."

"Hey, large families come from somewhere," Lula retorted. "And I don't see you chasing people with broadswords and painting yourself blue, Miss Celtic."

"Touché."

"So…who ya dreaming about?"

Genora licked her lips. "Not anyone, per say. They started last night, and so far it only seems to happen when I'm working on one of my math or science classes."

"Oh, that will give anybody a headache."

Genora ignored the comment. "I see…I see this blue box. I drew a picture earlier." Genora held up the sketch. "I checked it out online. Apparently, these things were all over Britain starting in the late 1920's, and were still used until nearly 1990. They're a kind of miniature police station. This was one of the more popular designs."

"Does the history lesson have anything to do with your hallucinations?"

"No. I just thought it was interesting."

"Why would you be dreaming about them?"

"I think it's a ship of some kind," Genora explained. "I don't yet know where it goes or how it moves, but it does."

"Uh-huh."

"Lula, I mean it! I've been seeing it all day, and there are other things as well."

"Lampposts?"

"Lula…"

"Sorry," her friend apologized. "Tell me. All ears."

"Well…" Genora swallowed, unsure how to put the next part. "There's…there's a man too."

Lula's face lit up. "Oooo, a man! Finally found someone, yah? Keep going. What does he look like?"

"I never get a good look at him. I think he wears pinstripes and sneakers though. We run a lot."

Lula's mouth dropped open in shock and a sort of malicious glee. "Doesn't that T.A. of yours wear pinstripes?"

"No."

"Your head, not mine."

"Lula, no! Never! That skinny son of a Brit is the most conceited, rude, snobby,—"

"—tall, handsome, British, smart—"

"—distasteful, spiteful man I've ever come across!"

"Maybe he just needs the attentions of some young thing to thaw out his heart and show him the error of his ways."

"No Leola," Genora said sharply, using her friend's real name. "We are not discussing this. You have not met this…man, if he is one. Long ago we came to the mutual and silent agreement that we despise each other, for reasons I have explained many times, and that is the end of that."

"Fine," Lula sulkily agreed. "So…what do you and your Man in the Stripes do?"

"We…run."

"You run?"

"Yes. We're always running. From something, to something, I'm not sure. But we're always moving and dancing through amazing sights. I don't know what they are, but I can feel the wonderful."

"Are you sure this isn't another one of your plot-lines, Miss Future Author?"

"No. This is…different. Lula…"

"Ginny…"

"Have you ever…felt as though someone else was in your head?"

"Do you mean that part of your brain that's always working on something? Or do you mean the way you can detach yourself from something?"

"No, I mean…" Genora sighed. "It was during physics. I tried to listen, I really did, but someone…someone stepped into my head and listened for me."

"Someone stepped into your head."

"I know, it makes no sense, but it's true. Or…or rather someone already in my head stepped forward and listened for me. When class was over I had understood everything told, but I hadn't really listened to any of it. And the whole time, I was drawing that box, and writing down things about it and the Man in the Stripes…and she…she has a name. Kathryn, I think. But she…she stepped forward and…"

"Genora…are you certain that you're alright?"

"Lula…am I going mad?"

Lula pressed her lips together, thinking. "I think your already bright imagination is playing tricks with your mind," she finally said. "It's the last month and a half of school, so you're tired and stressed out. I think you need to find some kind of way to relax and take your mind off of things. Go jogging in the mornings, or find a non-class related club. Something to get your mind off of school and that pain-in-the-backside T.A. Might help with the headache too."

Genora sighed again. "I'll try."

"Don't try, do," Lula stressed. "Your health comes first, always. If you make me fly back to take care of you, I will be most displeased."

Genora smiled faintly. "I'll do my best. Chat with you later Lula."

"TTYL Ginny!"

Genora wandered to the nearby school gym after her English 300 class. She'd had this odd wish to exercise, though this wasn't her usual day for it. Still, she was flexible; an extra session wouldn't hurt.

Idly she wrapped her hands for the punching bag; not that she ever used it, but this wasn't her usual time or her usual crowd. She could afford to look like a novice this one day.

After warming up her shoulders, she started in on one of the helpless bags, letting her encounter with Smith come out through her hands. What right had he to snoop? What right had he to take such offense at her existence? She was a good student and had a full ride scholarship to prove it.

Whack.

She was well-mannered.

Whack smack.

She paid attention in class.

Kick whack.

She turned in work on time.

Whack thump.

Every lab score was perfect, every paper in every other class marvelous.

Crack smack.

She spoke four languages fluently.

Whack thud.

What was his problem? He had no reason to dislike her so. He had no reason to search for faults. He had no reason not to count her as an adult.

Whack crunch.

Someone cleared their throat behind her and she jumped, turning around. The man looked at her, faintly annoyed.

"If you're going to use the bag, then use it. Don't just stand there staring at it."

Genora opened her mouth to protest, then a wave of pain hit her head. "What…what time is it?"

The man frowned. "Seven. Are you alright? You aren't looking too good."

"But I got here at six…" Genora said quietly, not addressing the man. She glanced up at him. "Sorry. Yes, I'm finished."

Mindlessly she walked passed him, heading towards the locker rooms.

"Miss O'Conner?"

Genora looked blankly at Smith. "Yes?"

"Are you feeling well?"

"How long have I been standing there?" she asked him, too dazed to start a word war.

"At least half an hour."

"Thirty minutes…" Genora mused. Suddenly she looked Smith in the eye. "Have you ever seen a capitol T made out of hexagons?"

"What?"

"When is a burning forest not on fire?"

"I'm not one for riddles."

"What about the name Josephine Cole?"

"Are you quite…sane, Miss O'Conner?"

Genora shook her head. "I wish I knew, Mr. Smith. I really wish I knew."

"And you just let him get away with that?"

"Lula, I've asked myself the same question," Genora reminded her friend late that night. "I told you about what happens in physics, yes?"

"A girl named Catherine takes over your mind and listens. I think you've just learned to split your focus so you can listen and sleep at the same time."

"It's not like that Lula."

Lula shook her head on the screen. "I know. I'm sorry. I'm trying to make sense as well. I worry about you as it is, Genora."

Genora smiled. "I know."

"So have you figured it out?"

"No, but I think there's another person in my head."

"On top of the other one?"

"Either that or the one person has seen an awful lot for one person and has two names."

"So you're a physics whiz during physics, someone who sees not-flaming forest fires when you're beating up sandbags, and you the rest of the time?"

"Yes."

Lula was silent. "Do you have any friends taking psychology?"

"No, and it would only be a minor; we don't have a lot of psychology classes."

"What about Mom?" Lula and Genora had spent so much time together that they addressed each other's parents as if they were their own.

"I haven't told my parents yet."

"What! Genora, are you really losing it? You march down stairs right now and tell them what's been happening."

"I can't Lula! They had reservations about me going to university at my age in the first place. I can't tell them I'm cracking this close to finals; they'd never let me go back."

"They would too!"

"No they wouldn't! At least not for several years, and by then I'll lose my scholarship and have to take classes over again. I can't do that Lula."

Genora's friend sighed. "Alright. I'll let it alone for now. But if this keeps up, promise me you'll talk to them, or get help, or something."

"I promise."

"Genora! Dinner!"

Genora looked back at her screen. "I've got to sign out now, and then I have homework."

Lula sighed again. "Look…I'll ask some people here if they have any ideas, okay? And I'll think on it too. You just relax or something. Do your homework, bare minimum tonight. Take a long soak, then go running tomorrow. That always helps me. Oh, and I'm going to send you some local headache cure-all I came across here. I have no idea what they put in it, but the vendor and all my classmates swear it works."

Genora grinned. "I'll take your word on it."

"And whatever you do tonight, don't write about those dreams! Or anything! Read a book instead, but no writing!"

"Promise. Speak with you soon."

"TTYL!"

Two days later, it was physics in the morning again. Barely a minute had passed before they started. Genora pushed her notebook aside and the other girl stepped in to listen for her while the image took over.

I'm having another…vision, I guess you could call it. An immense orchard. Trees that aren't trees. Snow that isn't cold. A song with…strange words. Horrible, terrible, painful, killing music.

The trees are dying. They're screaming.

They're being killed used mutilated tortured!

John's focus was now entirely on O'Conner instead of the lecture.

He didn't want it to be. Most of him was certain she had planned this whole thing just to upset and distract him. Breaking her patterns, pretending to go mad…just because of some twisted wish to attack him.

Yet…some small part at the back of his mind was tickling at him, pushing him to find out what was driving this sudden change in the child. It reminded him of something…and then it would pass as soon as he reached for it. John needed that notebook, and for that he…he needed O'Conner.

She was once again writing on that pad of paper rather than in her notebook. She had turned in a perfect homework paper at the end of the last lecture, as always, so it wasn't affecting her learning.

But it might be affecting O'Conner's mind. She was writing feverishly, her hand shaking with some sort of strong emotion. And now…now she was muttering to herself. People started to look at her but she—

"You're killing them!" she suddenly shrieked, jumping from her seat. Now everyone was certainly looking at her.

O'Conner stood, trembling. She pressed a hand to her upper lip and withdrew it. John could see blood on her hand and bright red drops of it on whatever she'd been writing.

"Genora?" Prof. Hawkins asked from the front of the room. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes…I…Sorry." O'Conner grabbed her backpack and the pad of paper and quickly left the classroom.

Prof. Hawkins caught John's eye and nodded at the door. John took the hint—and the opportunity—and went after her.

She was already down the hall and rounding the corner. Putting his long legs to good use, John pursued her in time to see her throw the pad of paper in a trash can. He hesitated, then made note of the bin and continued after her.

"Miss O'Conner!"

Stubbornly she ignored him and dashed outside just as he caught her arm.

"Let me go!"

"Prof. Hawkins sent me after you."

"I don't care!" she snapped. For a moment she looked him full in the face and he loosened his grip, shocked at the terror on her face.

Taking advantage of the moment, she jerked away and continued her run, sliding into a car and driving off.

John didn't waste time staring after her. Swiftly he returned to the trash can she'd thrown the pad of paper into and fished it out.

The halls were quiet as he sat down to read.