Peter knew that he needed to do something to make up for what had happened. He was embracing his spoiled childish side and was not talking to Andrew, but that didn't change the fact that the Jane wasn't speaking to him either. Every time he went to history, Jane would sneak in at the last moment and sit in the front row- the only place that wasn't filled. Every time Peter would sit down, a few girls would always manage to surround him. He had always appreciated his good looks before this, but now he wished that he had an extra nose.

Hoping to catch her off her guard, Peter decided that he was going to catch her when she wasn't expecting him. Calmly, he walked into student affairs and went to the middle-aged slightly cubby woman sitting behind the desk. "Ma'am," he said as he put on his most charming smile. "One of my friends dropped her book today as she was walking out of class, and I need to return it to her right away because we have a test tomorrow. However, I realized that I don't know where to find her after class hours."

The woman smiled. "How very sweet of you. I'll look up her address. What's her name?"

"Jane White," he said.

"Oh, I've heard of her. She's the math girl, isn't she?" the woman said as she looked through her files.

"I suppose that's her."

"I hear she's rather strange."

"Aren't we all?" Peter asked. "The war's changed all of us in some way or another." He didn't actually know why Jane was a little off, but the war was an easy enough explanation.

"Oh dear, poor girl. I didn't think of that," the woman said as her eyes filled with pity. "Here it is." The woman pulled out a vanilla folder with Jane's name printed at the top. She took out a piece of paper and wrote the address on it. "I hope that you're able to return her book to her. "

Peter looked at the address and recognized it as one of the aparenments on the edge of campus. It didn't surprise him. Jane didn't seem like the type of person that had a roommate. "Thanks. I sure I will."

He smiled as he basked in his small victory while walking out of the office. He headed straight to the apartment building- stopping only on a slight detour to buy flowers. Once he got to the building, he found that he couldn't open the door without buzzing up to her room, which he knew would result in her not opening the door and knowing that he was coming, so he waited on a bench outside of the building until on the tenants left. Fortunately, an elderly woman exited the building which gave him the perfect opportunity to run and catch the door before it closed.

He looked at the piece of paper in his hands that indicated that she lived in room 403. Knowing that he was only half done, he climbed up the four flights of stairs and found the room that had 403 painted in white on it's dark green door. Inhaling deeply, he knocked.

Only moments later, the door opened, relieving a none to happy Jane. Without hesitation, she went to shut the door on his face, but he quickly blocked the movement. "Can we at least talk?" he demanded.

"About what?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"You know what." She frowned. "I brought you flowers," he said as he showed her the yellow lilacs.

She smiled as she accepted them, "Thanks." She looked at him calculatingly and opened the door for him to enter.

"You don't want to talk someplace a little more public? I would hate to ruin your repreation," Peter said.

"What reputation? All I am is the weird blond girl," she retorted.

"Okay," Peter said as he stepped into her apartment. It was very small. There was really no living area, only a small kitchenette, a twin sized bed pushed against the wall, and a desk across from it. "I would have bought the flowers a long time ago if I knew they would make you actually talk to me."

She smiled sheepishly. "I love flowers."

"You don't seem the type. You seem so practical."

"I didn't see any flowers until I was thriteen. I was so amazed when I first saw them, and I haven't stopped being amazed," she said as she sat down on her bed.

He stared at her in shock. "How did you not see flowers until you were thriteen?" he asked in dismay.

"I lived somewhere very cold," she said simply.

"Where? Norway?"

She laughed. "Colder than that."

"Antarctica?"

"Someplace far from here."

"Which would be?" he asked trying to get a direct answer.

"It's been such a long time; I've practically forgotten," she said, still evading the answer. He sighed. Perhaps it had been one of the countries effected by the war. Where ever it was, he had a feeling that she wasn't going to tell him.

"Didn't you at least travel?"

Again she laughed, but this time, he could detect a hint of sadness behind her smile. "Our borders were sealed. No one came in, and no one went out."

"Sounds scary," Peter noted.

"Scary things happen all the time. Did you that there's being a communist uprising in the dutch indies?" she asked, completely changing the subject.

"I might have heard about it, but what does that have to do with anything?"

She shrugged. "I'm just saying that scary things happen everywhere and every day."

"That's kind of pessimistic," Peter said.

"It's what I tell myself."

"So how exactly did you end up here?"

"I was commanded to come here. It was thought that I would stay out of trouble if I was here," she said.

"Commanded by who?"

She yawned. "It was so long ago that it doesn't really matter anymore." Peter sighed in frustration. "Why are you here?"

"I'm from here," Peter answered.

"You're from the university?" she asked with wrinkled eyebrows.

"No, I'm from Finchely."

"Okay, then why did you come to this university?"

"It was far enough away from home that I could get away, but close enough that I can go home on weekends if I want. It offered the major I wanted. I liked it's size."

"What do you want to do after you're done?" she asked curiously.

He sighed. "Honestly, I don't know. I thought about going into the army, but I don't like fighting with guns. I thought about becoming a defense attonry and helping those who are truly innocent, but since it's hard to tell whose who, I decided that that wasn't a very practical oppion. I thought about going into politics, but here, it seems all about who can come up with the most insulting words to use against their opponents, so I decided against that."

"You said that you don't like fighting with guns. What do you plan to do? Unsheth your sword and pull out your shield?" she asked almost mockingly.

"I'm used to a different time."

She studied him. "What are your siblings doing?"

"Susan is studying art. I think that what she really wants to do is to find a husband and organize parties and fundraisers," Peter said with distain. Susan had recently taken to ignoring the past events in Narnia and living solely in London. However, she didn't see that she was doing exactly what she did there, except she used to organize all of the events for nobles and visiting royalty, and now they were British college students.

"You don't sound very please," Jane noted.

"She's smart. She's wasting her talent. You're a feminist; you should be against this."

"I lived too long being controlled by someone. I believe a person should do what she thinks is best for her," Jane said.

Peter would have asked about who had controlled her, but he knew that she would answer elusively, so he didn't bother. "But she doesn't know what is best for her!"

"She'll figure out eventually. What about your other siblings?"

"Edmund is going to Oxford. He wasn't to be a judge, and he'll be great at it."

"Edmund the Just?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Peter stared at her in shock. No one except a Narnian had ever used Edmund's old title. "Yeah, I guess."

"Don't you have three siblings?"

"Yeah, Lucy is still in high school."

"So, Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy," she said thoughtfully. "Sounds like a powerful quartet."