Family (Zoe, Rachel, open to all the Zoe people) [backdated January]
Even though Zoe had extended the invitation for Rachel to come over to her house it took the girls ages to actually do it. A week after that first invitation, Rachel had made good on what she'd said in one of her letters I'll try anything once and had climbed the roof of the gymnasium on a dare from a boy in their PE class, had been given suspension for the rest of the week and was grounded till Christmas.
After that she was a little more subdued. "I got in so much trouble," she told Zoe, when Rachel was allowed back at school (after signing a contract that specifically stated she would follow the rules). "My dad and my step mum fought about me for ages."
"Why did you do it?" Zoe asked her, after their lunchtime run. Rachel had become the legend of the week for her lunch hour on the gym roof, evading capture and posing for photographs. At one point a group of students started yelling at her to jump off but then the teachers had caught on that something was happening and had started yelling up to Rachel that if she didn't climb down right now they were going to call the police.
"It sounded like fun," Rachel told her. "And no one was going to get hurt. It's an easy climb, up and down, I've been on loads of roofs before, and it's such an arbitrary rule!"
"But you knew you were going to get in trouble."
"But I didn't hurt anyone!" Rachel insisted. "Everyone was having a great time!"
"Except me!" Zoe snapped at her. "Listening to those guys trying to convince you to jump? You think that was fun?"
Rachel sobered, the smile falling from her face. "Oh," she said. "I'm so sorry."
It felt strange to be in her final year at London College. It felt strange to have survived. No Gloria, no Silva, no Belle, and only traces of Juliet. It felt strange... even stranger because it seemed that some people were starting to forget. There were two girls in Zoe's chemistry class that talked to her like she wasn't plotting their deaths; there was a boy who kept complimenting her work in Art and Design. Some days Zoe felt like she might be living a life almost encroaching on normal. The anniversary of the shooting passed once again - it had been four years - and life carried on.
But Zoe still kept her eyes wide open for any signs of trouble, because life was not normal. She kept a journal at home of all her classmates and any worrying behaviour they exhibited. She meticulously wrote down every dream and every vision.
And yeah, Rachel worried her too but she couldn't pinpoint anything in particular. 'Has a wild rule-breaking streak' wasn't exactly cause to break out the tranquilisers, after all. Not till she started making children drink bleach (actually, preferably before that...). Maybe it was the number of times she answered something with "I don't actually remember" or maybe it was all the stories of her home life that seemed infuriatingly contradictory that Zoe didn't quiet trust. Some days Rachel would come to school ranting about how much of a tyrant her father was but then she'd meet him in the car park after school and he'd get out of the car to greet her and call her "princess" and she'd run into a hug with him looking happier to see him than Zoe had ever seen.
Zoe didn't understand. When she was mad at Liz or Emma she'd stay mad for days. If she went to school angry she'd come home angry and she'd stay angry until she'd worked out her feelings with them. Zoe didn't change her mind about how she felt without reason. You didn't go to school furious and then go home ecstatic. It didn't make sense.
She'd asked Rachel at lunch the next day, what had happened to turn him from tyrant back to doting father. "I don't know," Rachel shrugged, bending to lace her running shoes. "He's my dad I guess. He just wants what's best."
"Does he?" Zoe was sceptical.
"You haven't met him," Rachel said, which set in concrete Zoe's need to do just that. Maybe it was Rachel's father Zoe should be worried about.
"No, not yet," Zoe said, stretching her hamstrings.
The next day she invited Rachel over for dinner. Maybe introducing Rachel to her family would get Rachel to open up about her own. Maybe (Zoe hoped) there was a mundane explanation for her behaviour. Maybe she was just on medication because of chemical imbalances or because her brothers died. Zoe really did hope. She didn't like being suspicious of her new friend all the time. (Although how rubbish did she feel that she hoped Rachel was mentally ill? It was better than evil, she told herself. She didn't think Rachel was evil. But she was something.)
But how could Zoe not be suspicious? She didn't exactly have a great track record (apart from her literal track record, where she had one of the fastest times in the school.)
They walked out of school together, rugged up against the mid-January cold to wait for Zoe's ride. "Just don't climb any walls, huh?" Zoe poked Rachel in the side.