Zim sat down in class. He was still uncomfortable with what happened between him and the Dib-father, but he supposed that after what had happened, he completely deserved it. Yes, Zim decided. The professor had actually let him off easy. But that still didn't stop his angst, his dread for what was going to happen next month.
Zim couldn't believe how stupid he was! Now, not only did he injure Dib, but he was going to be sent to court. That wasn't good; Well, at least he knew that Dib was alive.
But Dib was FAR from okay. Zim looked over at him. He looked dazed and confused. Almost like he was in a trance. Zim walked over to him.
"Hi Dib, I–" Dib screamed in horror.
"No! Stop! Get away from me!" Ms. Bitters slithered over to the two of them.
"ZIM! get away from Dib!" Zim could swear she made her voice a little gentler for Dib. "Dib, please take your seat. You may choose to skip this lesson if you wish." Dib shifted.
"Well then I choose to skip it, please," he said softly. Ms. Bitters slithered back to her desk. Zim walked back to his solemnly. Throughout the whole lesson, he eyed Dib silently. Dib was sitting at his desk, sketching on a piece of paper. At the end of class, Zim walked up to Dib's desk.
"Hi, Dib. What are you drawing?" Dib looked at him, the look of panic reentering his eyes. He backed away from his desk.
"Um, you can have it if you want," Dib said.
'No, that's fine, Dib. Can I see it though?" Dib gulped. He nodded.
"Uh, yeah, whatever you want..." Zim picked up the drawing. The drawing was of Professor Membrane. Why was Dib all of a sudden worshiping his father?
"Dib... that's very good. Where did you learn to draw like that?" Dib continued watching him, not saying anything.
"Dib... here." Zim placed the drawing on Dib's desk and took three large steps back. Dib snatched up the drawing and stuffed it in his backpack.
"Dib... you have no reason to fear ZIM," Zim said. Dib said nothing; he just briskly turned on his heal and ran out of the classroom, stumbling a little. Zim wondered why Dib couldn't accept his apology.
Don't be stupid, he thought. You scratched him up and beat his head with a lawn gnome. He's got every right to be afraid of you.
Still, Zim wished things could go back to normal– back to the days when Dib would chase Zim and Zim would chase Dib. Back to the days when Dib wasn't scarred for life permanently, could balance himself and could think straight.