1Ron looked up from his history essay (Teddy Roosevelt's Big Stick Policy) and saw Kim sitting on a spare desk beside him, frowning.

She'd been doing that for two class periods now. Ever since she'd showed up in his room yesterday morning, she'd been following him around like an extra shadow, getting more and more moody.

Ron sneaked a glance at Mr. Barkin, who was reading a lacrosse magazine with his feet up on the desk. He wasn't paying attention to anyone.

"What's wrong?" Ron muttered.

Kim blinked in surprise and looked over at him. "Shouldn't you be concentrating on the Panama Canal?"

"'Panama Canal?' I thought that was Carey Grant."

Kim groaned and smacked her forehead.

"Oh right! That was a movie." Ron was about to ask Kim again what was wrong when a huge shadow appeared over his paper. He looked up meekly to see Steve Barkin glaring at him.

"Talking to yourself again, Stoppable? Or are we cheating?" He glowered and leaned into Ron's face.

"Mr. B! No...um...just talking...to myself. Again." Ron cleared his throat.

Barkin straightened, not at all convinced. "Well, I'm sure you can carry on a more verbal conversation with yourself after class."

"Right," Ron replied.

Barkin mumbled inaudibly to himself and strode away to pick on other unfortunate students. Ron returned to his hopeless essay (concerning Roosevelt's record-breaking homerun streak, earning him the nickname 'Big Stick'), scribbling diligently. Kim was still frowning.

"What gives, Kim?" demanded Ron. He was eating lunch outside. Kim was watching him, feeling irritated.

Kim didn't answer, but reached over and slightly jiggled the lunch tray, surveying the wobbling motion of the gelatinous mystery meat gravy.

"Kim?"

"I can't smell it. I should probably be glad, huh?" Kim said, slumping back in her seat dejectedly.

"Can't smell what?" Ron was confused.

"Lunch," she said bluntly.

"What's got you so tweaked? You cheated death, and now you get to walk around high school and watch the rest of us suffer! Personally, I think you got the better end of the deal." Ron began shifting his mystery meat around cautiously. "Come on, no homework, no gym class..."

"No contact, no friends, no family, no cheerleading, no yearbook, no..."

"Oh. I see."

"I didn't just miss you, Ron, I missed life. And I still miss it."

Ron was quiet for a minute. Then, "Wait. Kim, how long have you been hanging around?"

She raised an eyebrow. "About a month," she said slowly.

"So it was you in the gym that one day! You caught the basketball and scared Monique and I out of our wits!"

Kim's eyes lit up. "That's right! Monique saw me! Maybe she can see me now...where is she?"

Ron twisted around in his chair, scanning the lawn. "Don't know. Lets try in the caf, 'kay?"

They jumped up and ran into the cafeteria, eyes peeled for Monique.

"There she is." Ron pointed to the corner. "Behind the Club Banana catalog."

Kim nodded and they started in that direction.

"Hey! Monique!" Ron shouted.

The girl glanced up from her catalog. Her eyes went round and she dropped it. "K- K-...

Kim?" Her voice was hoarse.

Kim and Ron casually dropped into chairs at Monique's table.

"'Sup?" asked Ron, a mischievous smile on his face.

Monique's jaw dropped and she reached across the table for Kim's hand. "Girl, is it you?" she asked incredulously.

Kim smiled timidly. "Yes."

Ron grinned. "Two down, the world to go."