To the Library!

Master?

"What did you call me?" Ernest asked, confused.

"Just meet me in the library," Jessica said. Ernest would have pressed her further, but Ms. Littlewood was asking everyone to sit down so class could begin. He liked Ms. Littlewood, a knowledgeable, gentle teacher, who was probably ten years his senior but looked like she could have been his classmate. Unlike some of the other instructors at Eastlake, she never raised her voice, and she always seemed to have answers when Ernest had questions about a story or an author.

Tiffany, Jessica, and Samantha all had seats next to each other. Ernest's desk was on the other side of the room, so he wasn't going to have a chance to ask Jessica what she wanted -- or why on earth she'd called him 'Master'. He scanned through all the memories of this timeline that he could, but didn't remember any reason why Jess would be using that term. It didn't even seem to be some kind of inside joke. Maybe it had something to do with why she wanted to meet him in the library?

Ernest shrugged, and gave a heavy sigh. Then, he opened up his copy of The Complete Stories of Flannery O'Connor, and focused his attention on Ms. Littlewood. Nothing to do but wait for the end of class.

It seemed to take forever, but at last, the bell rang. Jessica darted out of the classroom as if she were literally on fire. There was no way Ernest could catch her, especially since Tiffany was approaching him.

"Hey babe," she said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Ready to go to lunch?"

Ernest's stomach was saying yes, but he nonetheless shook his head sadly, "Can't today, unfortunately. Jessica wants to talk to me about something in the library. She didn't say what, but it sounded important."

"Mind if I follow you? I packed my lunch today, and I need to pick a couple books up for a project in my Government class. "

"Sure," Ernest replied. Tiffany took his hand, and together they walked through the halls to the library.

Jessica's heart was pounding as she dashed toward the library. She wanted to make sure that she was there and waiting before Ernest arrived. This was her best chance -- and maybe her only chance -- to get the ring back from him, and she wanted to hold the high ground, to get him off his guard, to be the one asking the questions.

The ring, by the way, that she could somehow still see, even though she knew Ernest had wished for it to be invisible to others. Maybe the fact that she was bound to the ring meant that she was immune to wishes like that? At any rate, it was something that she knew, and he didn't, and maybe she could use that.

With a heavy groan, she sat down at a table in the far corner of the library, setting her heavy backpack down at her feet. Nothing to do now but wait.

It wasn't a long wait. Ernest and Tiffany arrived only a couple minutes after Jessica. Tiffany gave Ernest a squeeze around the waist, "I'm going to go find the books I need. See you in a bit."

"See you," Ernest said. He scanned the library and, after a few moments, saw where Jessica was sitting. He walked over to her, and sat down in the chair across from her.

"Hey Jessica. What can I do for you?" he asked pleasantly.

"Hi. That's a nice ring you've got," she replied.

"Thanks," he answered reflexively. Then, a second later, the full import of what she had said reached his brain, and his eyes went wide. "Wait, what? But you're not supposed to..."

"Not supposed to be able to see it?" Jessica finished, acid slipping into her voice, "Or know the real story of how you got your car? Or notice that you've turned my best friend into your own personal sex doll?"

"Look, changing Tiff was an accident," Ernest sputtered, "And...how do you know any of what's been going on with me?"

His mind did cartwheels trying to explain what was going on here. A hollow, unpleasant feeling appeared in the pit of his stomach.

"Oh, I dunno." A venomous sarcasm tipped Jessica's words, "Maybe it has to do with the fact that it's my ring that you stole from my house? I thought you were better than that. Guess I had you figured wrong, thief."

"Hey now," Ernest retorted, "Yeah, I found the thing while I was at your party, but it's my ring. It has my name on the inside, damnit."

Now it was Jessica's turn to be confused, "That's....not possible."

"Oh?" Ernest took the ring off. He hooked his little finger and thumb around it, so that Jessica couldn't snatch it away from him, but left enough room for the cheerleader to be able to see the inscription that had appeared on the inside. She could read it as clear as day, and her shoulders slumped visibly upon taking in the sight.

"At any rate," he added, "if you know everything that happened to me, you ought to know that I looked around to see whose the ring was before I realized it was mine. And if it's mine -- which, again, it's got my name on it, and it's not like I've had the time to run out and have it engraved during the past twelve hours -- then you've said some nasty things to me for nothing, and I'd dearly like to know what the real story is. Because it's certainly not that I jumped into your magical sanctuary to steal your magical ring."

No, she thought bitterly, that was Kevin. Now, with the ring seemingly ratifying Ernest's possession of it, her attempts to shock him into returning it had failed. Time for plan B -- try to appeal to the boy's sense of mercy.