Barely dressed, Jennifer answered the thumping on her front door to find the aged woman in a pale blue dressing gown and slippers standing there. She looked up at Jennifer with her sad eyes.

"Now, you come over to my side."

"Mrs. Carmody--"

"Now."

Jennifer sighed and walked over, locking her door behind her.

The little woman walked through a mirror image of Jennifer's side of the house to the kitchen. Jennifer sat at the kitchen table, an old one with metal legs and a melamine top. Mrs. Carmody used a gripper stick to fetch a box of hot cocoa packets.

"You're having cocoa," she said, sharply.

"It's eighty degrees outside."

"Don't argue with me, girl."

Jennifer closed her mouth and waited until the old woman finished warming up the milk, then dumped in the powder. Daring to make cocoa with water would earn a severe tongue-lashing from Mrs. Carmody.

The cup was warm, and the cocoa was hot on her lips and spread heat through her chest. The old woman sat down, leaning on the table to steady herself.

"What gave you such a fright?"

"I had a nightmare, that's all. I'm sorry I woke you."

Mrs. Carmody shook her head slightly, as if shaking it too hard might send it rolling off her neck. "Don't you worry about that. You didn't wake me. I'm too old to sleep. That wasn't just a nightmare, girl."

"I dreamed about the bridge," she said.

"Oh." Mrs. Carmody nodded heavily with a sad, knowing smile.

"It doesn't matter," Jennifer said, taking a sip of cocoa. "It happens now and then. It's just a dream."

"I'd say it isn't."

"Maybe not," she said. "It's normal to have bad dreams."

Is it normal to wake up on the floor? Is it normal to scream in your sleep?

Jennifer brushed her hair back over her shoulder. The old woman looked at her patiently, as if there were something obvious she wasn't seeing. Jennifer looked down.

"When are you going to stop wearing that?"

Jennifer drew her ring to her chest. "It's mine."

"That boy wouldn't want you to live like this, child."

"I'm not a child," she said sharply.

Mrs. Carmody leaned forward.

Jennifer tried not to scowl.

"I was ten years old before my family owned a radio. I remember sitting right there in front of it when we heard that Pearl had been attacked. That radio sat there all through the war. Used to sit around it and listen and wonder where my brother and uncle were. One came back with one leg. The other didn't come back at all. My uncle had six children, and them and his wife moved in here, with us.

"That radio broke and we bought another, then one after that. I remember when we first got television. We had one channel, but that was enough. Never thought I'd watch a man walk on the moon.

"My uncle's children are all gone now. If they were here they'd have grandchildren older than you. I lived my life tucked up in this old house, I don't want to see you do the same, you hear?"

Jennifer frowned. "I... I don't know. I..."

She downed the rest of the cocoa with a gulp, not caring that it was too hot. Mrs. Carmody took the cup, hobbled to the sink, and rinsed it out under the faucet.

"Your boy Franklin wouldn't have wanted it either. He was a sweet boy. Not like them other ones."

"Thank you for the cocoa," Jennifer said, her voice hollow and flat.

Mrs. Carmody touched her shoulder at the door. "Now you get to bed. School's early."

Jennifer bolted her own door as soon as she was inside, and headed up the stairs. The bed was a mess of sheets damp with sweat that would take time to dry. She gathered up sheets and pillows, then carried it all downstairs before falling asleep on the couch.

Her alarm went off at five. A quick shower and breakfast later, she was on her bike with her jacket folded up in the basket over the rear fender and her messenger bag lashed to her back. Today the school did not look like a fortress. It looked like a prison, but at least it was safe. Between her door and the school was no-man's land.

"Hey, Jenn," Lisa the secretary said, looking up from her papers. "You get home okay? It was a hell of a storm."

"Yeah, I got a ride," she said, absently.

"Rachel?"

"No, Jac-" she shook her head, "Mr. Kane. The new math teacher."

Lisa nodded slowly, and smiled.

Jennifer stormed out of the office, scowling. Why was her personal life everyone's business?

It was early yet. The door to Jacob's classroom was lit from within, casting wavy light on the lockers opposite. She opened her door, dropped her bag on her desk, and strode across the hall. His door was unlocked, but she knocked anyway.

"Come in."

She swung the door open. His classroom smelled of dry-erase markers, that ugly rubbery smell an overheating computer makes, and an undercurrent of cologne. The school-issue printer was chugging out his assignments for the day. He looked up from his computer and sat back in his seat.

"Good morning," she said.

He turned. "How are you?"

"I'm fine."

She rubbed her arm.

Say something. You're acting like a fourteen year old.

He stood and leaned on his desk. "You still look a little shaken up."

Sighing, she looked up. "I... I had a nightmare last night."

Why did she tell him that?

"Ah." He looked off, away from her. "I get those too."

He did? Why? Oh.

She yawned. "You're up awfully early. It's not even six thirty."

"I do most of my prep work in the morning."

She shrugged. "That might not be a good idea. You have a first block class."

"I'll be fine."

Jennifer shifted from foot to foot, like a nervous teenager. "They're not so bad. I mean they are, but they're not malicious, they're just teenagers. We were all that age once, too."

Stop dancing around it and ask him.

There was something questioning in his look, and Jennifer's cheeks heated. Her braid slipped over her shoulder, and she absently played with it.

"About last night," she said softly.

"Changed your mind?"

"What? Oh, no, I just... I wanted to see if you still wanted to..."

He bit his lip. She couldn't get a read on his expression.

"Why don't you drop by on Saturday morning, and we can go for a bike ride?"

"I'd like that."

She glanced back as she left the room, still playing with her braid. Stepping back into her classroom woke her up without the dogging weariness. Materials had to be laid out, and activities prepared.

When the bell rang, she greeted each student by name with a smile, and they replied with quizzical looks. The day blurred by until lunch. She weighed seeking out Jacob again, but a worrying twist in her belly made her afraid she'd come on too strong. She went to Rachel's room instead.

The older teacher was at her desk, eating a disgusting combination of breakfast cereals, a peanut butter and banana sandwich, and a cup of yogurt, then washed it all down with orange soda. Jennifer dropped her lunch on the desk and tisk-tisked.

"Now now," said Rachel, waggling a finger at Jennifer. "If I don't eat like a pig, the kids won't crack jokes about me being stoned all the time."

"Yes, they will," said Jennifer.

"He likes you."

Jennifer scowled and said nothing.

"He's been making bedroom eyes at since he saw you. That display in the hallway yesterday was very heroic."

"That wasn't for my benefit," she said.

"I'm sure it wasn't."

Jennifer glared at her.

"I have big news," Rachel said.

"What?"

"Kazmeyer put in his notice. He's cashing in his sick days. His last day is in February."

"He's retiring?"

Rachel nodded. "You know he's tried to get me fired, like, three times? Me? You know what the last one was about?"

"What?"

"I dared to show the old Romeo and Juliet movie in class. You know, the one with boobs. It's one scene."

Jennifer rolled her eyes. "Did you send the release home?"

"Of course I did. I still got written up for it, but I have tenure. Now you do, too. You should let your hair down a little."

Jennifer sighed. "I think I'll just stick with my lesson plans."

"Good for you," Rachel said, rolling her eyes. "How's it going this year? Any problems?"

"I wish I didn't have the freshmen after lunch."

"Before lunch, after lunch, they're all thinking about their classmates naked and producing excess body odor. Don't worry, we can shove them all off on Kazmeyer's replacement, whoever they can find."

"I'm looking forward to it," she said. "Though I sort of like freshmen. Sometimes."

Rachel snorted.

"You love them," Jennifer said.

"No, I just lost my mind in my fifth year."

The bell rang a moment later. Jennifer said hello to some of Rachel's freshmen as they came in. She had her own to tend.

The freshmen were docile, and the advanced placement class went smoothly enough. The conversation focused on the assigned reading. By the time it was over, she was exhausted. She sat behind her desk during Advisory and looked busy.

That didn't stop Krystal, who sidled over, dragging her chair noisily across the floor.