If you're a returning reader, turn back to chapter one for some changes I did regarding the setting, since I changed it to 1969 to correspond with the time in which students usually start university in England, which is at eighteen (the information I included previously had the students starting school at sixteen because I thought ending high school meant going straight to university in the UK and I forgot about including sixth form). I'll try to avoid mistakes like this in future chapters, but if you do catch something, please let me know.

I see the bad moon arising

I see trouble on the way

I see earthquakes and lightnin'

I see bad times today

Don't go around tonight

Well, it's bound to take your life

There's a bad moon on the rise

-Creedence Clearwater Revival, "Bad Moon Rising"

For a while, as the boy was telling her his name, Sarah Jane kept thinking about the last time a boy had approached her with what seemed like so much confidence. She had been twelve years old, at a point when she was feeling very self- conscious about not only her changing body, but her growing awareness of the way her mind worked, and was walking alone in the park. Upon making it to a small tree where she sometimes liked to stay around to get a good view of the pond, she found a tall teenaged boy standing around, who gave Sarah Jane what she believed to be the most charming smile in the world. He had been wearing a grey cardigan and blue trousers, and had that muscular, athletic body which all the girls in her classes liked musing about.

"Come over here, you pretty girl. Don't be shy," he'd said in a voice which was as charming as his smile. And Sarah Jane, being young and very inexperienced with the sometimes cunning ways of the opposite sex at this point, had been so happy that she practically raced up to this complete stranger as if she were a love struck heroine in a Hollywood movie. Then, when she saw how he was puckering up his lips in her direction, she'd blushed deeply, fully believing that this might be the most romantic moment of her life.

But instead of getting the kiss she'd been expecting, a wad of spit landed in her cheek, followed by an uproar of laughter. "Ha! I sure fooled you, didn't I, you dumb old bitch?" he'd said cruelly. And after saying this, he immediately ran away, as if he couldn't bear to be caught with her. Sarah Jane had stood in place for a long time, silently crying even though there was no one around who could possibly…

"Hey there," she heard the boy telling her with genuine concern in his voice. "Is something wrong? You look like something's bothering you."

"What?" Sarah Jane asked, finally breaking free from her disturbing thoughts. "Oh, I'm sorry. I've been so worried about leaving home these days that all I seem to do is worry about all sorts of meaningless nonsense. Can you repeat what you were saying again?"

The boy smiled at her. "Don't worry about it. I haven't stopped worrying about the thousands of ways I could mess up at university ever since I got here yesterday. Anyway, I was just trying to introduce myself. My name is Thomas Patrick Marsh, I'm from Northern Ireland, and I'm going to be studying music here at Monroeville University."

"Well, I'm Sarah Jane Smith, I'm from England, and I'm going to be studying journalism," Sarah Jane responded, relieved to see that at least this young man didn't think see her as a complete fool. "It's nice to meet you, Thomas, or should I say Tom?"

"Most of my friends call me Tom, but my mother does call me Thomas about half the time because she believes that you must make some use of your full first name. How about you? Do you really go by such a prim name as Sarah Jane, or are you just Sarah?"

Sarah Jane found herself laughing at this. "My family sometimes calls me Sarah Jane, but my fri-, I mean, most people just call me Sarah." She just couldn't get herself to say friends, seeing as how she had next to none back home.

Tom, however, must have been listening very closely to her words, since he then said just as empathetically as he had before "Most people, but not your friends?"

"Let's just say that things were quite complicated back in high school and sixth form, I spend all of my school years at private schools where nearly everyone was wealthy and used to having everything being perfect, and I just always stuck out like a sore thumb because of it," Sarah Jane tried to explain, even though she was a little worried as to whether or not she was revealing too much. "I mean, my aunt has a lot of money, but my father doesn't, and I've always been so awkward and different when it comes to my personality. In a school like that, you're automatically an outcast if that's the way you are."

Tom nodded once she finished speaking. "I actually understand how it is at those schools. For sixth form, I was sent to live with an uncle in Essex, and as a result, I attended a private all boy's school where I was not only the only Irish kid, but also the only Catholic. Take that along with the fact that both of my parents are writers who have focused on issues of social justice and discrimination, which in the eyes of the sons of entrepreneurs and politicians made my family seem like socialists, and how I always loved music and philosophy, and I was the perfect target for them. Throughout my whole time in that school, I was called a papist, a commie, a fairy, and every nasty name you can think off."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Sarah Jane said sympathetically. "But the good thing is that we're starting at a new place here, with different people who will probably be too busy with their studies to have the time to be bullying each other."

However, not everyone in this school was going to be new for her. Violet Kingston Price, who at one point had been the girl who'd led most of the bullying which Sarah had experienced in school, would also be here to study music just as Tom was. However, after the death of Andrea Yates, who'd been one of Sarah Jane's only friends and had died after falling off a pier during a school trip when they had all been thirteen, rumors had spread that Violet was responsible for the incident because she'd either told Sarah and Andrea that she and her group of friends would be leaving their class and going over to a dangerous pier site and had dared them to do the same or she'd been the one who'd shoved Andrea down the pier (this came about because when the police arrived at the site of the accident, Violet had Sarah Jane, who'd blacked out after seeing Andrea falling down, wrapped around her arms, and upon being questioned, Sarah Jane couldn't remember when Violet had showed up). As a result, many of the girls at their school turned against Violet while maintaining their disdain towards Sarah Jane, and the constant bullying Sarah had once experienced from her came to a halt, with the two girls going so far as to sit together during school dinners and working with each other during projects. They wouldn't always speak to each other, and they never visited each other outside of school, but an alliance of sorts remained between them during the rest of their time in school.

"Yes; that's what I think I'm going to love the most about university," Tom declared. "Now, do you mind if we walk around for a while?"

"That's okay," Sarah Jane said a little uncomfortably. "I have nothing to do right other than tiding up my room, and no one ever likes doing that."

"You got that right," Tom said with a smile. Then, he took a small hold of Sarah's hand, resulting in her blushing and looking away. She could never remember a time when a man other than her father had held her in that manner, so she found this to be little embarrassing.

Upon seeing her reaction, Tom hesitated, looking ashamed and concerned. "I… I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Sarah. If you want, I could just…"

"No, don't worry about it," Sarah responded quickly. "I just can't get over how nervous I am, and I don't think it'll get any better if I'm left alone."

"I didn't want to leave you alone," Tom explained. "I just thought that you'd be uncomfortable with holding hands. I have two younger sisters, so I'm used to doing that all the time and tend to forget that other girls don't always like that."

Sarah Jane sighed. Where was her ability to read minds when she needed it? "I actually don't mind holding hands. Let's just say that I have about as much luck with boys as I've had with friends in general, so I'm not use to… well… having such close contact with a boy." She blushed once again, and wanted to bury her head in her hands after what she'd just admitted.

Tom laughed awkwardly. "I'll settle with just walking around together with no physical contact for now, just to make things easier for the both of us. How does that sound?"

Sarah Jane chuckled despite her embarrassment. "Sounds better, actually. Best to take a possible friendship one step at a time, don't you think so, Tom?"

"Couldn't agree more, Sarah," Tom answered, and the two of them finally started to slowly walk around the place. In just a couple of minutes, the outside of the university seemed to have gotten much fuller than before. Groups of friends, some old and some having been made during that first day, appeared to have gathered around every corner. Some read quietly under trees or sitting in benches, going through books which their teachers at sixth form would have flinched if they'd caught them reading in class, like Henry Miller's Tropic of Cancer, Betty Friedan's The Feminine Mystique, and Franz Kafka's Metamorphosis. The amounts of dancers continued to grow as well, with various styles of music, ranging from Marvin Gaye's "I heard it Through the Grapevine" to Fleetwood Mac's "Black Magic Woman", intermingling in an awkward yet exciting manner not that different from the various students who gathered together to dance with others whom they'd never met before.

And just as the music and students intermingled, so too did all their thoughts through Sarah's head:

And here I was thinking that university was going to be so dull. Matter of fact, everyone here seems a lot more fun than in sixth form, where all everyone worried about was passing their A and O levels…

How lucky I am to have met a boy on my first day who's dancing with me! Maybe by tomorrow I'll be having a new boyfriend as well, and a week we may decide to go steady and start with…

Fifteen pages to read before class starts. How wonderful. Am I doing the right thing in studying Biology, or should I have just settled with art like Maggie did? If only Mother didn't put so much pressure on me then perhaps I could…

And then came a rather familiar voice: that of the girl who'd made the snarky remarks about Sarah as she'd clung to a boy:

Looks like I was right about that girl all along. There she is walking alongside with some hippy boy whom I have no doubt she'd just met a while ago, and seeing the way he keeps looking at her, she's probably already got him under her thumb. What a pathetic, desperate little bitch she must be…

"Sarah? Is everything all right?" Tom asked, interrupting the stream of thoughts.

"Yeah. I just find myself thinking a little too much is all," Sarah responded quickly. No need to bring up that other people were thinking too much, causing her to do a little more thinking than any normal person would be accustomed to. For that matter, why was it so hard to read Tom's mind? He seemed very nice so far, and she could see him as going on to be a close friend later on. But after the incident when she was younger, she found it very hard to trust boys, so it sometimes helped to be able to know what they were thinking.

"Are you sure about that? I noticed that you started getting a little too pale, and worried that you were possibly feeling sick."

"Oh, no. None of it is due to sickness, just anxiety," Sarah Jane reassured him. "It's been happening to me ever since I was little, and if it gets too bad, all it might take is a good cup of tea to make me feel better."

"That's good to hear," Tom answered with a look of relief. "So, I figure you probably don't want to join the dancers?"

"Do I look like I want to?" Sarah Jane said with a laugh. "After all, I saw one of the girls there earlier and she didn't appear to be very fond of me."

"I take that as a no. If I had the chance to play my guitar, I might join the party, but dancing in front of other people makes me nervous for some reason. I'd much rather join to readers and share my theory on what I thought The Trial was about, since I haven't gotten around to Metamorphosis yet..."

"Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, but this is a university, not the set of Top of the Pops. Keep the music down or just go to your dorms," a well-dressed middle-aged man, who was no doubt a professor, demanded in an authoritative tone. "Don't believe that just because your parents aren't here doesn't mean you won't have to follow anymore rules." He then crouched towards the nearest radio, which was belting out Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Bad Moon Rising", and as he did so, Sarah Jane heard him thinking, Some songs describe perfectly well what it's like being able to look ahead of things. If only these buggers were able to see the bad moon already hanging in the sky, then they'd stop deluding themselves into believing these will be the best four years of their lives.

That sure is a pessimistic professor, Sarah Jane thought to herself.

Shortly afterwards, the professor shot a look in her direction which seemed to be giving off signs of both shock and warning. He looked as if he wanted to say something to her, but he was immediately interrupted by a boy who happened to be the same one who'd been snogging the girl ( her name was Wendy, which Sarah had been able to find out from the stream of thoughts she'd had a while ago) who'd been having bad thoughts about Sarah Jane, who yelled out, "Oi, man! We were having a bloody good time listening to this music! What makes you believe you have the right to control what we do as full-grown adults?"

"If you must know, George Sandburg, I am Daniel More, professor of Journalism, and I happen to know more about political rights than you do with your mediocre score of a C in A level British Politics," the professor said in a snarky voice. "If I was in charge of admissions here, pupils like you wouldn't even be able set foot on the front door of this university, much less have you studying Communications."

The boy was now flashing red with anger. "How the hell do you know my name and A level scores? Are you one of those people who goes through private files and that sort of crap, because I'm pretty sure that professors could get arrested for trying to pull that off!"

"Professors have unlimited access to that type of information, sir," Mr. More said with a smile. "Part of our jobs consists of letting each other know what we're in for when it comes to our students, and I already know that the communications professors are not going to be in for a good report on you."

He's lying, Sarah Jane thought. Professors can't know that much about students. He must be up to something, and he's going to be my journalism professor, then that could mean…

"Ah, looks like we've managed to attract some spectators over here," Mr. More said, walking over to Tom and Sarah Jane. Looking first at Tom, he observed, "So, looks like someone's a little careless about appearances here, young man. Are you trying to pass off as a member of the Beatles or one of those other edgier bands that have been forming lately?"

Tom looked a little tense, and Sarah Jane could hear George and Wendy snickering rudely in front of them. "Well, Mr. More, I figured that since classes haven't started yet, it would be okay to dress as we'd like for these first couple of days. Are you saying that this is breaking the rules in some way?" Tom responded in a surprising polite manner.

"Not really, but we do like our students to remain presentable while on campus. If you don't mind me saying so, people are going to believe you're one of those crazy hippies if they see you looking like that, and this isn't one of those towns which are very warm towards those types of chaps," Mr. More responded with a cautionary look on his face.

"I see," Tom replied, looking as embarrassed as Sarah Jane had been just a while ago. "Not everyone we're going to be interacting with will be associated with the university, after all."

"That's correct, young man," Mr. More said with a nod. "We don't want to give the older folks the impression that our students are as radical as the ones over in France or the United States. After all, aren't you a Catholic?"

"Yes," Tom answered in a confused manner. "Why does that concern you?"

"I have nothing against Catholics, or the Irish for that matter, if that's you're worried about. I just assumed that they wouldn't approve of young people going around imitating hippies, and seeing how you're carrying around a guitar, I don't think your future career aspirations will be pleasing some of your folks back home. There are good number of Anglicans who don't like rock music or hippies, so I can only assume that Catholics would feel the same about it, if not more strongly."

"My parents don't have much issues with me wanting to be a musician," Tom answered, trying to take this inquisition as easily as possible, even though Sarah Jane could detect that it was making him nervous. "As a matter of fact, it was my father who first introduced me to American jazz and Elvis when I was younger, and even taught me to play the guitar when I was nine. And my mother would help me come up with good lyrics back when I first started writing songs. They never thought the music itself was bad, but that it could reflect inner conflicts which musicians might be going through, which listeners often seem to misunderstand."

"Your parents must be really wise, but not everyone is that philosophical. I advise you to watch what you do around here and at least avoid playing that guitar outside if you're ever walking around town," Mr. More said.

He then turned towards Sarah Jane and said, perhaps a little too politely, "And how are you, young lady? You look somewhat familiar to me. Do you have a family member who attended this university, by any chance?"

"I don't have any that attended as a student, but my aunt Lavinia Smith did give lectures here a couple of years ago, so perhaps that's who you're thinking of," Sarah Jane said, trying not give off how nervous Mr. More was making her feel. Tom appeared to notice her unease though, and he held onto Sarah Jane's hand in a steady and gentle manner. This time, Sarah Jane was not bothered by this, but found it to be reassuring.

"Thank you for telling me that. Now, is your name Sarah Jane?"

"Yes," she answered. "How did you…"

"You're listed among my pupils for this term. I'm in charge of teaching nearly every Introduction to Journalism course, so it only makes sense that I would be your professor,"Mr. More responded. Then, looking at Tom he said, "And young man, would you mind telling me your name? I forgot to ask earlier." Sarah noticed there was something in his tone which gave off that he already knew this, but was just asking it to avoid questions from Tom as to why he brought up Sarah Jane's name before his own.

"Thomas Marsh," Tom answered.

"Thank you for letting me know. Now, Sarah Jane, would you mind letting me know why you're interested in journalism?"

"Well, I've always had questions over all those things which people either tend to hide or fail to be aware of for themselves. For a long time, it seemed so easy for me to get the answers, with a yes, a no, or a simple explanation being enough for me to hear sometimes. But later, these questions seemed to get a lot more complicated, and I had to have more than just a one word answer to fully understand the situation, especially when hearing the news and all the hard stuff those around me always seem to go through. So, I thought the best way of searching for answers to all those questions which do have an answer was by becoming a journalist," Sarah Jane explained, going a little more in depth than she intended. Tom looked rather impressed at her answer, but Mr. More actually looked bored, as if he was expecting to hear something else.

"That sounds like something people would write in their university entrance essay, not like a genuine response, young lady," he said inquisitively. "Are you sure it had nothing to do with a desire to look into people's secrets, especially those of the most powerful and respected people in society, or with the adrenaline rush you get from putting yourself in the middle of danger? Those were all the things that excited me about journalism when I was a lad, and I'd be surprised if you didn't feel the same as well, especially with how journalism is such a male dominated field."

Looking into people's most private thoughts had stopped being something which excited Sarah Jane many years ago, upon hearing nothing but cruel insults and information which was too embarrassing to put into words during her time in school. However, she couldn't deny how thrilling it was to learn about all those things which couldn't be figured out by typical people, and seeing how those who wrote for newspapers or reported on the news for television appeared to have as heavy a knowledge as psychics did was something that heavily interested both Sarah and her grandmother.

"You're right about the exciting bit, but not everyone likes finding out personal information about people. I believe it's best to give others as much privacy as possible," she answered.

"Oh no, Sarah Jane. Everyone wants to dig up secrets at some point in their lives, and I always considered myself to be one of the lucky ones because I get the chance to do this on a regular basis," Mr. More went on, a somewhat sinister smile starting to spread across his face. "And now, before I leave, here's some advice for you."

"What is it?" Sarah Jane asked.

"Beware of what is hidden. Whether it's a bad moon being hidden by the sun, or someone hiding a secret which could come at a great price for yourself, things in hiding always manage to knock you down when you least expect it. So, as a future journalist, keep your eyes out for those things which others fail to see but which could spring up and haunt them at some point." And after saying that, he walked away as easily as if he'd just given directions for how to get to their classes.

"Something doesn't seem right about that man, don't you agree, Sarah?" Tom asked.

"I agree. He appears to know a little too much about people for his own good," Sarah Jane responded. Or in other words, he was a little too much like herself.