A/N: Sorry to sound like a broken record, but, once again, italics represent the internal monologue of the main character of this interlude. I also want to mention that I was inspired to write this chapter in large part by Lila2's wonderful "All the King's Horses." I loved the basically sympathetic view that story took of the inner life of a generally unsympathetic and relatively minor character, so I thought I would try something similar with Shelly Pomroy. I hope everyone likes it, but, like it or hate it, I hope you will let me know what you think of it.

"Where were you when I founded the earth?" Job 38:4

September 27, 2005

2:33am

Shelly Pomroy awoke suddenly, panting for breath. Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she nonetheless pulled the blankets tighter around herself. When that brought her no relief from the trembling, she pulled one of her extra pillows to her chest and squeezed it tightly. Rolling onto her side as she pulled her legs up into the fetal position, she bit down on the pillow and sealed her eyelids as tightly as she could, trying to keep the tears in and the memories of the nightmare out.

Nightmare? Ha. The dreams are wonderful. I wake to the nightmare.

Shelly had known, or at any rate had feared that she would have the dream again tonight. She had had gym class that afternoon, and had been staring up at the ceiling tiles as she changed back into her regular clothes. Then, when she was hurrying out of the girls' locker room, she had all but run right into that girl.

Oh God! Why did you make me like this?

When the Grace of Alais was proclaimed in 1629, the Pomroys had been among those Huguenots who decided that it would be better not to remain in France, and so embarked from La Rochelle for the New World. By the time Shelly's grandparents set out from New Rochelle in upstate New York for southern California after the War, their Protestant devotion had dimmed considerably. Perhaps unsurprisingly then, Shelly had learned more about Calvinism when studying the Reformation in history class than she had growing up.

Why do I keep having this same dream?

Shelly had not kept count of how many times she had awoken from this same dream, but she remembered exactly the first time it had happened: on December 8, 2003. She had woken up on the couch in her living room, just before 12:30 in the afternoon.

Please God, take it away from me.

Since then, she had been praying every night that it would stop. She was not sure if her prayers would do any good, of course. As far as she understood the concept of predestination, God had already decided her fate, even before she was born. When Mrs. Linster, her tenth grade history teacher, had been explaining Weber's theory that Calvinism had helped produce the industrial revolution, she remembered that Duncan Kane had raised his hand and asked, "But wouldn't the belief in predestination have produced a sense of fatalism and futility?" Mrs. Linster had gone on to explain that the Calvinists had believed that, while it was impossible to achieve salvation through good works, the doing of good works was itself a sign that one had been predestined for salvation. They had further believed, Mrs. Linster went on, that material success was also a sign that one had been predestined to be saved.

I wonder if that means Mom and Dad are going to heaven? They're pretty successful. On the other hand, they have a daughter like me, and it's a good bet that I'm not one of the elect.

At her party, Shelly had not been drunk. Oh, she had had a few drinks, but although she feigned more tipsiness than she had actually felt, she had been sober enough. She knew what she was doing. She had pretended, then and afterwards, that it was just for a laugh. That she was just doing it to amuse all the boys who had gathered around to watch. She had laughed right along with Casey, Sean, Dick, and Beaver. She had pretended it was all just part of the joke at the expense of Veronica Mars, the arkie who thought she was good enough to belong with them.

Why God? Why make me just to damn me?

In her dreams, though, there was no laughing and catcalling. The boys were not even there at all, not to laugh, and not to make Veronica half-blind with vodka. In Shelly's dreams, Veronica did not need to be dosed with alcohol, and did not struggle and try to escape. And when she put her hands on Shelly, it was not to try to push her away.

I'm sorry! I know it was wrong, and I swear I'll never do it again! Just please make it stop.

It was usually around this time, right after Shelly had sworn that she would never kiss another girl again, an oath she had faithfully kept, that Shelly fantasized about just telling everyone the truth. She wondered if she just came out to everyone, whether that would make it easier.

Oh sure, I can get my hair cut short and get one of those pink triangle pins to put on my book-bag. That'll go over real well with all my friends. Ha! If you thought Veronica was ostracized, just wait.

And it was usually then, when Shelly confronted the fact that she was too afraid to tell the truth, that she thought about sneaking into her parents' bathroom, opening the medicine cabinet, and downing every anti-depressant and sleep-aid she could find all at once. And then she confronted the fact that she was too afraid even to take the easy way out. And so, as she always did, she cried herself back to sleep, praying that somehow things would change.

Oh God, please make it stop….