Seriously guys? C'mon. I had more reviews for the first two chapters than I did for the last 2 and the first one is just a prologue! I will love you all forever if you leave just a simple one-word review. They really make my day and motivate me to keep writing as fast as I am.
I'm going to be busy, but I'll try to update as often as possible in the next month or so!
Peter woke up screaming, or at least he thought he should be screaming. The pain in his lower back was intense, spiking and intensifying with every short breath he managed to take. Panting, Peter leaned forward; trying to stretch his spine and fix whatever muscle was seizing and causing this horrible pain. With a final relenting tug, the problem disappeared and he sighed heavily. "Dude, what were you dreaming about?" Bryce asked. Peter looked over to his roommate's bed where Bryce was sitting up and had donned his glasses.
"What do you mean?" Peter asked, sitting back against his pillow.
"You kept yelling the name Wendy and then you woke up looking like you were having a seizure or something," Bryce said. Peter shook his head, running a hand through his unruly blond hair. "Dude, you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, fine. I'm going back to sleep," Peter muttered, lying down and rolling over. He listened as Bryce placed his glasses back on his bedside table and tucked himself back in.
Peter tried to ignore the dream, but something was nagging at the corner of his brain. It was similar to the feeling he got when he'd forgotten something extremely important and knew he'd forgotten something, but couldn't remember what it was. It bothered him as he fell back into a dreamless sleep and continued to plague him as he walked through the dorm on the way to his favorite coffee shop for breakfast the next morning.
He saw Guinevere approaching from down the second floor landing, but instantly questioned what she was wearing. The floor-length blue dress had a lace collar that covered her neck, a bustle, and a short train. Her hair was pulled up into a bun and her heels thudded against the carpeted floor. He blinked, trying to get a better look at the odd ensemble, but when he looked at her again her outfit had totally changed. Now it was the usual fall-weather jeans and a sweatshirt combo that she loved so much.
Peter hurriedly blamed it on his lack of sleep and smiled at Gwen, offering her his arm wordlessly. She accepted, much to his delight, and they exited the building together, arms awkwardly hooked together. The morning was chilly, and Gwen pulled the sleeves of her sweatshirt down over hands, as was her custom. Peter smiled, thinking it made her look even more adorable than normal (if that was possible). She looked up at him, "Beautiful morning, huh?"
"Yeah," he replied, slipping his arm from hers and putting it around her shoulders. "Almost as beautiful as you."
"Peter," Gwen blushed, playfully punching him on the arm, "People will think we're together."
"Would you mind it that much? People thinking that we're together?" he whispered, putting his mouth close to her ear as if telling her an important secret. Gwen blushed even more furiously when several students noticed and smiled to each other, whispering amongst themselves. Where had this come from? Peter was never this outright flirtatious! He was so shy and awkward!
"Uhm…"
"Lady Guinevere," Peter said, pausing their walk so he could turn and look her straight in the eyes. "We have been practically inseparable since day one of class, we hang out together all the time and get along splendidly, we have the same group of friends, and I've been quietly admiring you for over a month. You seem to fancy me, too, which is nice. It brings me to this very important question: would you like to go steady?"
"Sir Peter," Gwen smiled, standing on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek, "I would love to go steady with you. Now, are you going to take a girl to breakfast, or stand here in the cold all morning?"
"Of course I'm taking you to breakfast, what kind of charlatan do you take me for?" Peter laughed, pulling her close again and heading off in the direction of the shop, a wide smile gracing his features.
A slim, dark figure watched the scene from above, their classroom window open to the curling breezes of mid-October. "It's happening too soon," they mumbled, leafing through a heavy book. They were careful not to rip the aged yellow pages, their fingers light and steady in their deft movements. "That was a close call, and the way they're getting along so well could prove problematic. I must find a way to do away with this budding relationship before either one of them understands the consequences and finishes the ritual on accident. I must bring this to an end. I must."
In her dorm room, Britney was just waking up. The dull pain in either of her shoulder blades was annoyingly persistent. Standing and shuffling over to her bathroom medicine cabinet, she reached for the first pain killers she could find and downed two of them with a cup of water. She flopped back onto her bed, staring at the ceiling and debating what homework she should do first. She decided, with a heavy heart, that the History 101 notes due Monday would be the best choice, followed by an essay and then lunch with Finn. Nodding in satisfaction with her itinerary, Britney sat down at her desk and proceeded to pore over her History book, taking meticulous notes about the Byzantines and Romans and their various empires.
Guinevere, in a similar note, parted ways with Peter at her dorm after breakfast. "I have a lot of homework to finish today," she sighed, "But we can hang out later, yeah? The whole group could do something."
"That's an excellent idea," he agreed, kissing her on the top of the head. She unlocked her door and slid into her room, leaving the blushing and awkward half of herself outside the door. Now she had to focus. She wondered why the information about her great-grandmother had been left out of the box originally. The War, so big and important, had probably been overwhelming and the tiny piece of information un-findable. Yes, that was the most understandable reason. She hadn't looked at the thimble again, but that was because the little trinket always gave her the creeps when she was near it. The sense of dread and longing and some strange recognition tugged at her and made her uncomfortable in every corner of her mind.
So instead of focusing on the strange Genealogy project, she turned to Biology and English, finishing up all the essays she'd need written for the following week. There was nothing Guinevere loved more than finishing all of her homework on the weekends and not having to work on those projects on top of her regular class assignments (mostly reading/notes) given out almost daily by almost every professor during the week. She spent seven hours busily working away at the papers on her desk, completely absorbed by the work and even forgetting to eat lunch.
Peter knocking on the door at six o'clock that evening made her jump roughly a foot in the air as she called, "Coming!"
She tugged the door open and peeked out, embarrassed that she'd never changed out of her pajamas. "Hello? Oh, hey Peter! Come on in."
"Thanks," he followed into her dorm, shutting the door behind him. "Jeez, did you ever leave?"
"Nope," she laughed sheepishly. "I've been working steadily ever since you dropped me off. I'm just on the last page of my History notes, actually."
"Did you eat lunch?" he asked, looking around and finding no trace of leftover food anywhere in the vicinity. Not even a granola wrapper in the trash can next to Gwen's desk.
"I don't think so, no," she replied. The well-timed rumble from the vicinity of her abdomen made her blush a little. Peter chuckled.
"Alright, that's it. I'm stealing you away from your little learning hovel and taking you out with us. Let's go, Lady Guinevere," Peter ordered.
"Where are we going?" Gwen asked, following Peter out into the hallway and grabbing his hand in hers. They both tried to ignore the creeping feeling of familiarity at the gesture. We've never held hands before, Peter thought, so why does it feel like this is something we do all the time?
In Gwen's mind, the image of a young boy running ahead of her, his hand grasping hers for dear life and racing through the trees, appeared and disappeared like a childhood memory. She shook her head and smiled at him, burying the image and feeling of homesickness it brought with it to the deepest recesses of her mind. "Well?"
"A pub on the edge of London," Peter said, "We're taking the Underground."
"We?" she asked, raising an eyebrow for added effect.
"You, me, Kevin, Bryce, Stephanie, Jack, Colie, Finn, Britney, and Erika," Peter listed.
"Erika?"
"A friend of Bryce's," Peter shrugged. "He invited her along and I guess she's pretty nice."
"Well that's good. I don't know why darling Bryce would be hanging out with people who weren't nice," Gwen rolled her eyes.
Gwen and Peter exited the building and located their friends, who had been waiting for them at the near-campus Underground entrance. The group, laughing and talking loudly to one another, began the descent to the train tunnel below. Britney and Gwen exchanged hugs at the top of the stairs and started giggling over some new album coming out from a band they mutually liked as they walked. Peter and Kevin struck up a conversation about a renaissance fair that was coming to a small town nearby, and Stephanie and (who Gwen assumed was) Erika started talking about percussion problems.
"I'm Gwen," Guinevere momentarily interrupted, "It's nice to meet you!"
"It's nice to meet you too," the girl smiled, brown eyes twinkling with a very Bryce-like mischief. Gwen understood how they were such good friends merely by the way she acted around the others in the group. "I'm Erika!"
"Hey, Gwen," Britney huffed, tapping Guinevere's shoulder impatiently, "Do you have any pain medication in your purse?"
"Like Tylenol?" Gwen asked, digging around in the small bag.
"Anything, really," Britney said, rubbing her sore shoulders and rolling her neck to try and get some relief. The soreness had crept back after she'd forgotten to medicate again before leaving. The constant aching seemed to have taken up residence in her very bones and was driving her insane. Gwen handed her two Tylenols, which she swallowed without water.
But twenty minutes later, as they were entering the pub, Britney started feeling lightheaded. Her breathing was off and the world seemed to shift and pitch, rolling like a ship at sea. Gwen put a hand on her friend's shoulder and Finn walked over, looking worried. "Hey, you okay?"
"Babe?" Finn asked when she didn't respond.
"Hey," Britney smiled dopily. Her eyes rolled back and she fell heavily into Finn's waiting arms.
"What the hell is going on?" Gwen asked the empty air. "We're dropping like flies."
"Gwen," Peter said, putting his arm around her, "You, Finn, and I will take Britney to the hospital. Everyone else is going to grab some food and return to the dorm."
"Okay," Gwen nodded, mostly stunned and worried. Britney was the most resilient. When everyone got colds in mid-September, she was the only one who'd made it through without one sniffle. This was strange. Gwen hoped it was in reaction to the medication, which could be fixed easily enough.
They were in the middle of hailing a cab when Britney awoke in Finn's arms. "Hey, what happened to the party?" she pouted.
"You passed out!" Peter exclaimed. Gwen hurried over and put her hand on Britney's forehead, testing her temperature.
"She's perfectly normal," Guinevere stated. "How do you feel?"
"Hungry and rather sleepy," Britney shrugged. "Please put me down."
Once the petite girl was solidly on her feet again, the group looked around. "Back to the pub?" Finn inquired. Peter shrugged and Gwen put her arm around Britney in the chilly night air.
"Well she said she was hungry, didn't she, gents?" Gwen smiled. Something weird is going on here, I can feel it. I just wish I knew what it was! She thought.