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Robin worried the bottom of her lip absentmindedly as her eyes scanned the worlds scrawled over the pages of her notebook.
To everyone around her, including her History teacher, she seemed to be a diligent student reviewing notes, but the content inked in front of her told a different story.
She had detailed as much as she could remember from her recent nightmares onto the pages, trying to make some sense of what was happening to her.
Of course, they were probably just dreams. After all, if she really had been pushed off the top of a building, she wouldn't be alive to remember it.
So then why had it felt so real?
She jumped upon hearing the shrill tones of the school bell, hurriedly shoving the notebook into her backpack and trying to make it through the door in an attempt to beat the crowds to her next class.
"Miss. Reynolds?"
Mrs. Carlisle, a woman with kind eyes and graying hair, called after her expectantly.
There went that plan.
She hid her exasperation and turned to face her teacher with a polite smile.
"Mrs. Carlisle," she acknowledged, "What's up?"
"You seemed invested in today's lesson," the woman smiled at her, "It's nice to see young people taking an interest in history, especially in this school. Most of the students seem to be focused on science, but it's important to remain well-rounded."
Robin felt a pang of guilt run through her. She had barely caught a word her poor teacher said the whole lecture.
"Well, I've always been fascinated by the past," she answered truthfully.
She didn't need to know that Robin was currently more focused on her own past than that of the world's.
"In that case, I have some books on World War II that you may be interested in," Mrs. Carlisle's eyes lit up in excitement, "They go much deeper into the nuances of what was truly going on than the standard curriculum teaches. I'd love to discuss the material with you."
Robin heart practically melted at the sight of her teacher's delighted expression and she found herself agreeing that yes, she'd loveto read all about the most overrated event in U.S. History.
Why couldn't she just have given an apathetic response and bolted out of the classroom like a normal teenager?
"I can't wait to hear your thoughts," Mrs. Carlisle beamed as she piled a few heavy books into her arms, before faltering slightly, "I only wish your friend Harry expressed a similar penchant for learning. He seems more interested in flirting with girls than absorbing any kind of knowledge."
