CHAPTER THREE
Hi-Skool

The rest of the weekend had passed unusually quietly for Dib. He'd been expecting more epic battles with Zim, planned for it, and the absence left things feeling... hollow, and empty. Still, he couldn't skip Skool just because the Earth wasn't going to be destroyed anymore, so he'd hauled himself out of bed next Monday morning just like every other Monday.

He walked with Gaz, but gave her a wide enough berth to make sure he wouldn't be bothering her at all. Apparently that wasn't enough, though, because at each lull in her game, Gaz would shoot him an unreadable glance. Dib tried to ignore it and look somewhere else, but the feeling of her eyes on him every so often still made him squirm.

"What?" he finally snapped, as Gaz looked at him again.

"You're quiet. Too quiet."

"What? I thought you wanted me to shut up."

Gaz shot him another side-long glance before turning back to her game again. Dib sighed as the silence continued to stretch. Clearly, she wasn't going to give him any more than that. At least she'd stopped looking at him now, immersed in a particularly difficult part of her game.

As they approached the grounds of the town Hi-Skool, Dib lifted his eyes from the ground to watch everyone milling around outside, eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of Zim. If he was there, though, the bell rang before Dib could spot him. As the loosely spread crowd packed into a tight herd through the halls, it became even more impossible to spot any one person. Unless they just happened to be standing right in front of you, that is.

As his age-mates filtered into the first class of the day and spread out to take their seats, though, there was still no sign of the tiny green boy. Dib slid into his own seat, eyes scanning the classroom...

When suddenly, he jumped up with an unmanly shriek, causing the class to erupt with raucous laughter. Rubbing his backside, he glared down accusatorily at his chair. Right there, in the middle, someone had put a tack.

"I'll get you for this, Zim!" he roared, feeling suddenly revitalised to know his arch-nemesis was alive and well after all. Not to mention up to his usual, petty tricks.

His outburst only made the class laugh louder, though, elicited groans from some as well.

"Not this again!"

"Hey Dib, I think Zim went that way!"

"Dib is crazy, Dib is crazy!"

"We're tired of your stories, Dib, go tell someone else!"

Dib paused, and blinked. "What do you mean, stories? He's right..." He trailed off, frowning as he caught sight of Zim's desk. Zim's empty desk. "What... where is Zim? He should be sitting right" there! He must be here to have put the tack on my seat..."

"That's desk's been empty all year, Dib."

"Yeah, ever since Jake left."

"I put the tack on your seat, not your invisible friend!"

Dib looked around the class slowly, registering the looks on everyone's faces. Mostly scorn, ridicule... pity from some. "What do you mean? He's been in class with us for five years!"

"Once again, Dib, there has never been anyone in this class called Zim," the teacher said as he walked in, having obviously caught the tail-end of the discussion as he neared the room. He glared at Dib, but after Ms Bitters or Gaz have glared at you, nothing else really works anymore. "Now sit back down in your seat, or I'll send you to the counselor's office. Again."

Dib was used to being called crazy, sure, but... this was different. Everyone at Skool had always been amazingly ignorant and oblivious regarding what Zim was, but even they had never failed to notice the existance of someone who'd been in their class for the past five years. He might consider it a mass prank organised against him, but Mr Beaty was notoriously harsh on pranksters, and he'd never join in.

Dib felt his previous burst of energy draining out of him, leaving behind a sort of sick, empty feeling. He kept looking desperately around the classroom, but the laughter had died away now, and all that was left was accusatory glares and the general feeling, heavy on the air and growing heavier, that he was making a spectacle of himself. Not even a single pair of eyes lit up with recognition, or support, or knowledge. They really didn't remember Zim. Not one of them. They all seemed to remember his rants and schemes... but not their focus.

Feeling uneasy, Dib awkwardly sat back down in his chair, sweeping the tack off first. He glanced back over to Zim's desk, and for a moment felt a little light-headed and dizzy. Zim's desk? It was so easy to remember the desk lying empty so long now, gathering dust...

Dib shook his head vigorously, clearing the cloudy feeling from his brain and drawing a few stares back to him. No, he thought vehemently. Zim is real. I know it.

But somehow, the thought sounded a little weak. Even to himself.


Have a slightly longer chapter.

Thank you to OhHowDelightfullyDreadful for reviewing and giving me the idea for the title I did eventually decide to go with, and thank you to those others who have also already reviewed or story alerted my story :) I get email notifications and they make me warm and fuzzy inside.