"So, what was your buggi'n dream about?"

Newt asked as I cleaned the blood of of his arm over the tiny sink.

"What?"

"You were obviously dreami'n, probably beating the klunk out of someone."

"I, I don't know." I stammered, not wanting to talk about it. "I think it was a memory."

"What?" Newt's eyes shot up to mine.

"A memory.wait, and I not supposed to have memory dreams?"

"I've been here 2 bloody years and haven't had a " memory dream." He put up a quotation mark with his good arm.

Then chucks cute pudgy face popped in the doorway." I got the cloth you asked for." He said, handing it to me.

"Thanks Chuck." And with that he dove out of the room, not wanting to bee there a second longer.

"Your arm feel ok?"

"Yeah, thanks to you."

Mac shut the water of. There was a towel in the bathroom which she used to wipe the remaining water of of the boys injured arm.

Mac untied the strip of cloth and carefully rapped up Newts arm, while he willingly held out his arm.

I tied the endings together in a knot.

I didn't know how close Newt was until I looked up into his eyes. Some of the saddness disappeared, as if it only happened when he looked at me. We were way close for comfort.

On some level I knew what was happening. His eyes moved down from my eyes to my lips. No. I wasn't going to kiss a boy I had known for a day.

No way. No matter how much I wanted to.

It wasn't going to happen.

I took two steps back, so I was right in front of the mirror.

"Goodnight Newt." I game him a warm smile, but the saddness had already returned to his eyes.

"Goodnight." But before I could say anything else, he quickly walked out of the bathroom, out into the hall.

Seconds after he left the room I missed his presence.

Why was I so attached to this dirty blonde haired boy with a sweet British accent? And why did he want to kiss me? I'm nothing special.

And that's when it struck me that i didn't know what I looked like.

Mac turned to face the mirror.

Whoa... Its pretty weird seeing your self for the first time, especially at the age of 16.

I had dark brown hair with many stark blond hilights that looked permanent.

And my eyes... I couldn't tell which color they were, green or brown. They seemed to change, blending and mixing like a mirage. I had a light tan complexion, and a slim but muscular body.

I looked back up to my face. There was a ski slope nose and nice sized pink lips.

Mac hesitantly bring her hands to her face, running them over it, like doing that would put a picture of her face in long term memory.

The girl was wearing a white tank top, with a light blue denim button down shirt, and some kind of gray cargo pants.

Mac had of course known what she had been wearing ages ago, but seeing it in the mirror brought new light to herself.

But the only thing Macs mind kept coming back too was that dream. That deja vu she was having was no coincidence. She had known some of the boys here, and that girl with the dark hair.