Jonathan didn't sleep well last night. At first images of that silly girl he had tried so hard to push from his thoughts kept popping back into his subconscious mind. She was smiling and laughing, the sun glowing golden in her dark brown curls. The image kept reoccurring over and over in constant loop until it was near maddening – then the dream changed. At first it was a welcome relief to Jonathan, but it was dark in this dream and he felt fear, a raw primal fear that he hadn't felt; it was more terrifying than the first time he had been chased down and beaten by bullies as a child. There was screaming and pain, pain from someone he loved. He was crying.

"Stop! Stop!"

He opened his eyes, dazed from the trauma of the nightmare and tangled in his bed sheets. Pale sunlight was streaming from his window and the hiss and rush of the Wayne Train soon brought him back to reality.

Just a nightmare, Jonathan. It was nothing. Best get ready for school.

He put on his glasses and picked up one of his school books – Basic Psychology. As he was beginning to learn, there was nothing basic about the human mind. He wondered if anywhere within this book was the answer to the nightmare he had experienced. No, if he was to find any answers, it would be in books that covered the human mind in much greater depth. It would be interesting if he could discover what he was afraid of and if he could conquer that fear. How wonderful to no longer fear anything anymore. How powerful someone would be who didn't fear anything!

Jonathan made a point to visit the library before class started and to check out what books seemed to pertain most to dreams and psychology. By the time fifth hour had rolled around, the affects of the nightmare had begun to fade and Jonathan was busy taking notes for class. He sat in one of the desks in the front row, not of haughtiness (although he knew he was the brightest in the class), but because recently his eyes had begun to change and he couldn't see the blackboard too well. He couldn't afford to buy a new pair of glasses yet.

Mr. Eric Chambers, who always seemed to wear the same brown suit and black tie day after day to Jonathan's psychology class, wrote in large enough letters for Jonathan to see on the blackboard:

CARL GUSTAV JUNG

"And who can tell me a bit more about Carl Jung? Who did he first study under?"

There was the typical silence Jonathan had long since grown accustomed to. Few people ever read their psychology homework or if they did they skim-read it before coming to class and could barely remember any of the details.

Jonathan out of habit raised his hand.

"Emily, yes," Mr. Chambers said.

What? Someone else volunteered?

Out of curiosity, Jonathan turned around and looked toward the back of the room. A girl with wavy brunette hair and beautiful brown eyes put her hand down. She was wearing a fitted pink T-shirt today.

"He first studied under Sigmund Freud," she said.

"Correct, Emily. Very good," said Mr. Chambers. "And can anyone tell me why he left Freud's tutelage . . . Jonathan Crane, would you kindly face the front of the classroom, please."

"Uh – yes, sorry," he mumbled, his face burning.

"And while you're facing the front, Jonathan, could you tell me why Jung left Freud?"

"Well, that's a complicated question, but – uh." Jonathan was tempted to look back at Emily to see what the expression on her face was at that moment, but he fought it. "It all came down to a disagreement in what unconsciously motivates people."

Mr. Chambers faced him, oblivious to the wide smudge of chalk dust on his brown coat.

"Very good. Would anyone else care to elaborate? Yes, Emily."

Emily again!

Jonathan did not turn around this time.

"Whereas Freud based studies on – on sexuality, Jung believed there was something more to the subconscious, that it is revealed through mythological images and motifs."

"Excellent, Emily! That is correct! Jung believed the unconscious is revealed in archetypes, which manifest themselves in many forms, but which have a common presence in mythology and human consciousness throughout the world, such as . . ."

Jonathan Crane you are such an idiot, you know that.

He was walking a safe distance away trying to get up the nerve to talk to her as she was walking to her class. Now would be a perfect chance before her friends arrived from Social Studies. He only had a minute or two to get a word in if he was going to say anything at all.

You spineless coward, say something!

"Um, hi."

She kept walking.

She's ignoring me. (No, you fool, she didn't hear you. That was barely a whisper.)

"Um, hi, Emily."

He quickened his pace so she could at least see him. She casually glanced at him.

"Hi. Why were you staring at me in class? You have a penchant for being rude, y'know."

"Sorry, I just didn't realize you were in my class."

She stopped and stared at him in shock.

"How long have we been taking that class together? Seven months? And only after you knock my books on the ground you notice me?"

Jonathan Crane, it is official – you are an idiot.

"I just meant – what you said in class, you were really good," he said.

That sounded terribly lame, even to Jonathan's ears. As much as she struggled not to smile, a slight grin tugged at the corners of her lips.

"Thank you. Jung is an interesting guy, much more so than Freud – Freud and his – well you know what he was fixated on."

Jonathan felt himself blushing fiercely and that truly made Emily smile when she saw that.

"Emily, there you are," cried a girl.

Two girls came running across the campus lawn, one with golden curly hair, a fashionable shirt and blouse showing off her firm midriff; the other with chestnut brown hair and gray eyes in stylish jeans and a white T-shirt that exposed her shoulder. Jonathan instantly knew who both of them were, the blonde girl was Tiffany Parker and the brunette Jessica Anderson – both came from wealthy families, connected well enough with the Wayne family – and both were extremely popular.

Jessica almost pounced on Emily, laughing. That suddenly stopped when she saw Jonathan.

"What are you doing talking to the Scarecrow," Jessica said, almost snidely.

"Yeah, Emily, let's get away from him. You know only Crows hang around him," giggled Tiffany.

Crows had become a synonymous term for an ugly girl shortly after Jonathan had been named Scarecrow. It began when any girl seen around him or bothering to talk to him henceforth was called a Crow and teased mercilessly. After that the term mushroomed until it became a universal insult for any girl.

"Let's get going before anyone sees us around him." Jessica tugged at Emily's arm.

"Hey, do you mind," cried Emily. "We were talking!"

"Okay! If you want to be called a Crow fine with me, see you in class then," said Jessica, throwing up her hands in disgust.

"We really should get going, Em," said Tiffany, looking around at some of the kids staring at them.

Emily paused for a moment, gazing thoughtfully into Jonathan's eyes and for a moment the shame, bitterness and anger he felt every time he heard the name Scarecrow didn't seem so painful.

"I don't know what they mean by Scarecrow," Emily finally said. "I don't see the resemblance at all . . . Well, better not be late again uh –"

"Jon."

"C'mon Emily," cried Tiffany.

"Bye, Jon," Emily said as Tiffany pulled her away.

Jonathan briefly watched as Emily left with Tiffany before darting off quickly to his next class. He couldn't recall feeling so wonderful in his entire life.