Author's notes: Thank ALL of you that has read this and favorited it or reviewed. It means a lot to me. I almost cried. :D

But anyway, next chapter!

ENJOY!!

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Let me clarify something. I am not gay. I've never questioned if I was. I'll admit I even liked Lydia at the beginning of the year.

The dreams with Zim only started as there would be the dream and Zim would suddenly be a part of the plot. He would walk in, do or say something random, and just disappear. It didn't really bother me now that Zim was…well, I couldn't call him a friend but he was back in my life. Only on better terms.

The first few times, it didn't really register in my brain. I would wake up and forget it, as usual. Only when all I could remember dreaming about was Zim did I actually notice. One lunch, I said something.

We were laughing at Lydia, undoubtedly at someone she was impersonating, when I glanced over at Zim and remembered the previous night's dream.

"Hey," I half-said, half-giggled, "I had a dream last night. Guess who was in it?"

"Ms. B-B-Bitters?" Lydia was having trouble calming down. Still, at the mention of Ms. Bitters, it sent a wave of fresh giggles on us.

"N-No!" I struggled to say. "You were in it, Zim."

Immediately, Lydia burst out but Zim altogether just stopped and stared at me, motionless.

I almost gasped at the intensity of his gaze. It wasn't really glaring because there was more than anger. Hate, shock, fear, and, strangely, sadness were mixed in his expression.

"W-what? What's wrong?" My voice shook. Was I afraid? If so, what was I afraid of?

Lydia stopped and stared at us, her eyes flicking back and forth as if following a tennis match.

"What did you dream, Dib-worm?" His voice was below a whisper and he sounded like his old self as he spat out my nickname.

His reaction was confusing me. I had actually gained information in my earlier days, spying on Zim. And nothing, in all my knowledge of Irken culture, gave clue to why he was acting like this.

"It was just…random. I mean, we didn't do anything, if that's what you're worried about..."

"Stop trying to wonder what's bothering me! WHAT DID I DO IN YOUR DREAM, STINK-BEAST?!" He stood up, his hands on the table, threateningly over me. Heads turned our way.

"Zim…Zim…please…" Lydia picked at the sleeves of his elbow-long gloves.

"Nothing. You were just there. Just with me. Throughout my dream." Shock persuaded me to answer, calmly.

He glared at me then, turned to Lydia, said briskly, "Forgive me."

Then he left the cafeteria with great dignity.


I didn't see him the next week. According to Lydia, he didn't come to skool at all.

I was confused. And scared. I don't know why. For some reason, I thought he would try to do something. Hurt someone. Hurt himself. It was a stupid feeling, which had no evidence or reason to back it up. But I felt it anyway.

When he did come back to skool, I was relieved even though he avoided me like the plague. An example: at lunch. Somehow he would eat his lunch and talk Lydia's ears off before I even reached the table. Assuming he even ate his food. Freakin' alien.

So everything went back to normal. Us not talking, I mean.

Time went on. Zim talked to Lydia and shunned me. Things just went on. I worried about skool, this foreign exchange student named Marie, and life in general.

It seemed like there was always light, green skin out of the corner of my eye.

Lydia tried. Real hard. She wanted the misfit trio back together.

"You miss him," she told me one lunch at the end of November.

Those words brought to me the flash of my dreams, filled with his ruby eyes, his pointed teeth sometimes bared, growls escaping from behind them. Of course, sometimes, it would just be him and me and I would stare continually at his long legs and skinny waist. I would pet his antenna, he would purr, but my dreams would only go that far.

Lydia's voice drug me to reality.

"…suffering and you don't even bother to notice!" She was angry. Why?

"Huh?" was my intelligent response.

A frustrated growl rumbled in her throat. "Zim. Misses. You."

"He does not."

"Yes, he does."

"Noooo…"

"Yee-ssss…"

"Oh? And how do you know?"

She sighed. "Never mind."

"No," I said, my voice lofty from disbelief, "how can you possibly know?"

"Why do you even care?" She burst out angrily. "You haven't even glanced in his direction for at least two weeks!"

It was my turn to get annoyed. "He hates me, Lydia! Can't you tell?"

She sighed again, a sigh of defeat. She looked like she wanted to say more but didn't.

We didn't talk about him again until I told her one December lunch of how I bumped into him.


I was walking back from Membrane Labs (or better known to me as my dad's labs), going home in disgust at the 8,342nd time he tried to interest me in REAL science.

I buried my nose in my black and white striped scarf Lydia gave me for my birthday. My glasses fogged up and, still walking, I took them off and started to wipe them off while turning a corner.

I slammed into something that felt like a person.

It was.

And it had a voice.

"Pi-TEE-full HYUMAN! How DARE YOOU-oh. Dib."

I shivered at my name coming out of Zim's mouth with absolutely no emotion.

Shaking, I groped forward, trying to find my glasses.

And encountered a hand. A three-fingered hand.

I jumped, more from surprise than fear or disgust. Zim's hand slipped from my grasp and I wiggled my fingers for a second until my glasses suddenly brushed them.

I grabbed them greedily and shoved them back on to get a good look at Zim.

For a second, my heart stopped. He looked de-lic-ious. Oh, why? He was sprawled on the sidewalk, his arms supporting behind him, his legs half up, and his hair sticking up, and with the most bemused and innocent expression I've ever seen. Have I mentioned how skinny he was? And lanky?

Immediately, I blushed at the naughty thoughts in my head and tried to stand up. He stood with me.

For a moment, we stared at each other. I was so nervous.

'Do something!' a voice in my head commanded.

Zim blinked as I breathed, "Um…hi…"

AH! I was acting like such a GIRL! My blush darkened.

He lifted a glove-covered hand towards my face.

"Why is your face…red, Dib-thing?" His fingers lightly brushed my cheek. "And warm?" he added.

'Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…' was the mantra in my head. My heart repeated the techno beat of a car that passed by.

"U-uh. It's a r-reaction to em-mbarrassment." I replied shakily.

He lowered his hand. "Okay. But why are you…'embarrassed'?"

Quickly, I lied. "Well, I did just smash into you in a public place...so..."

He tilted his head curiously. "I suppose."

Silence and awkwardness settled in.

I started. "Zim…" and paused as he tensed. "...about that...day…I-"

"It wasn't your fault, Diblet."

I raised an eyebrow. 'Diblet?'

"No?"

"No," Zim agreed. "I…" he looked around, as if searching for a word, "Overreacted."

I nodded. He held out a hand.

"Friends again?"

I cringed. "Friends?"

"Weren't we that before?"

'Were we?' I asked myself even though I shakily answered, "I-I guess."

We shook hands.