TWO HOURS AGO, YOU WERE GOING ON AND ON ABOUT HOW MEN WERE PHYSICALLY STRONGER, AND GIRLS JUST DIDN'T HAVE THE CAPABILITIES REQUIRED TO DO MANUAL LABOR.

☆︎ AUGUST, 1997 ☆︎

Evidently, getting accepted into college was difficult when you had a body count — of the murdering kind, not the sex kind. If it weren't for a truly gripping essay that brought readers to tears, Indiana probably wouldn't have received any acceptance letters at all. And the real kicker was that Isaiah wrote the essay for her.

Indiana, along with the other three graduating seniors that survived the Woodsoro murders, decided to go away for college. They wanted to be somewhere where people wouldn't recognize them as often or look at them with pity as they passed. After everything they went through, all four of them agreed they wanted to stay together, so it narrowed down their choices considerably when also looking at smaller towns.

So, that was how they ended up on the other side of the country, and a little too close to North Carolina for Indiana's comfort, going to a college in Ohio.

Someone on the admissions board at Windsor College in bumfuck nowhere must have been on something when they decided to accept not only Indiana, but Sidney, Randy, and Jackson into their school as well. Or maybe they were just itching to brag about having so many survivors at their institution.

Nevertheless, they offered all the desired degree programs that each wanted to pursue. Sidney enrolled in the theatre program, and Randy was studying film, of course. As for Indiana and Jackson, well, they decided to go to school since The Woodsboro Killers were on a short hiatus until Sophia and Isaiah graduated from high school.

There was no telling what would happen with their music once all four of them were reunited, but for now, both were content with a calm life in Ohio. Jackson's plan was to go into sports medicine — it'd been his plan before starting the band when Indy got to town.

And Indiana was getting a degree in music management with a minor in film studies. If the musician thing didn't pan out — which she didn't doubt for a second, but Virginia talked her into having a backup plan — Indy wanted to be a music supervisor for movies and television shows.

In order to get the four students across the country, they opted to rent a moving truck and pile all their things inside. Since Indiana was the only one without a car still, she and Virginia drove it while the others were accompanied by their families for the road trip.

For about half a day, Virginia considered moving to Ohio with Indiana just to keep an eye on her. But then they realized that was pushing her overprotectiveness a bit too far. So, she was going to stay in Woodsboro and trust along with the other parents that the eighteen-year-olds could survive on their own since there weren't any serial killers hunting them.

Sidney and Indiana weren't sharing a room — they procrastinated and missed the deadline to request a roommate, as did Randy and Jackson. Hallie McDaniel was assigned to Sideny, while a girl named Cici Cooper would be in the room right next door with Indiana. The girls were excited to be going to college but anxious about having to unpack their past with more people.

On the Thursday that they moved in, Indiana was a real supporter of what she called 'good ol' fashioned misogyny' as she bossed Jackson, Randy, and their fathers around, all of whom did the heavy lifting when unloading the truck. Then, after all of Sidney and Indy's things were in the hallway outside their rooms, the guys left to find their dorm.

"Indiana, stop before you fall off that nightstand and break your neck!" Virginia snapped.

The two sisters were unpacking all of Indiana's things. Cici had yet to arrive, giving them plenty of room to move around and sort Indy's side of the room out. While Virginia had been hanging up clothes in the closet, Indiana thought it was a smart idea to climb up on the cheap college-supplied nightstand in order to get the necessary height to tape up a David Bowie poster.

"Ya know, with how many people that have tried to kill me, it'd be pretty funny to die on accident like that," Indiana said, cracking a smile at Virginia over her shoulder.

Virginia sighed heavily and came up behind Indy. She hooked her arms around her knees and completely lifted her off the nightstand before dropping her on the ground.

"You are such a killjoy," Indy mumbled as the poster came off halfway.

"We literally have a step stool for hanging decorations," she reminded her.

"Yeah, but Sid is using it, and I'm impatient," she whined. "What if I sit on your shoulders?"

That was how the Cooper family found them, a fairly tall girl with an even taller one on her shoulders, hanging Christmas lights with polaroids clothes-pinned to them around the ceiling on the left side of the room while En Vouge was playing.

"Isn't it kind of screwed up to put up a picture with Billy and Stu in it?" Virginia was asking.

"Yeah, but Tate and Sophia look really happy in it. That's why Jackson drew all over their faces," Indiana explained.

It was a photo where many of them were sitting at the fountain at Woodsboro High. A still alive and smiling Tatum was laying across their laps, her head on Sophia's as the girl ran her hand through her hair. Unfortunately, Stu was right next to them, and Billy was lounging a few feet away with both Indy and Sid leaning on him.

To solve the issue, Jackson took a red Sharpie and covered them with things like devil horns and mustaches and put x's over their eyes. There were a handful of other group photos that were in the same state — no one wanted to throw away good photos of Tatum just because one of those assholes was in it with her.

"Hey, is this room 332?"

Both Indiana and Virginia turned their heads and spotted a petite blonde girl in the doorway with a duffle bag over her shoulder.

"Yeah, come on in," Indy said, grinning at her. "You must be Cici."

"That's me." As she came into the room, two older people followed after her, as well as a boy who looked to be in middle school. They all had armfuls of things, clearly there to help her move in. "These are my parents and my little brother, Frankie."

In order to make actual introductions, Indiana got off her sister's shoulders, climbing down onto her bed first before standing on the floor. "Well, I'm Indiana. This is Virginia, my sister," she said, nodding to her. "Oh, and my friend Sidney is in the room right next to ours."

"Do you guys want some help carrying everything up?" Virginia offered. "We're just about done setting up Indy's stuff."

"Oh, how sweet," Mrs. Cooper said while setting down a box of shoes. "Are you sure? We don't want to be a bother."

"It's no trouble," Indy told them. "Plus, we're in one of the few dorms without an elevator, so the more people helping, the less trips you have to make."

"Well, my knees thank you," Mr. Cooper said, chuckling. "Our van is right out front."

Together, the six of them went back outside to unload Cici's things. Indy took a second to poke her head in Sidney's room and let her and her father know where she was going. Her roommate, Hallie, hadn't arrived yet.

The first thing Indiana deduced about her new roommate was that she had a lot of shoes and clothes, which wasn't a bad thing. But even with both Indy and Frankie carrying armfuls of clothes on hangers, they'd still have to go back a second time — maybe a third — to get the rest.

"You're, um..." Frankie hesitated, thinking to himself. He and Indiana were the only ones going up the stairwell at the moment, having gone a little faster than those carrying heavier things. "You're that girl from California, right? From those murders?"

Indiana glanced at the thirteen-year-old, seeing how nervous he was. "That would be me, yeah."

"My parents and sister were all reading some book about it after they got the roommate assignment," he told her. "Wouldn't let me read it though. Said I was too young."

"Yeah, I'd wait a few years," she told Frankie. "Was your sister mega freaked?"

"At first," Frankie admitted as they reached the third floor. "But she just thinks you're really cool for surviving and stuff. She also said she wasn't going to bring it up around you, but Cici is so nosy."

"Well, me and all my friends are nosy too."

"She also plays her Spice Girls way too loud and is always talking on the phone about stupid boys," Frankie began to complain. Indiana couldn't help but giggle as they reached the room. "And she never plays Crash Bandicoot with me."

"Oh, my god. She doesn't play Crash?" she complained, pretending to be annoyed. They hung up all the clothes in Cici's closet. "My friend Jackson goes here too, and he just got the new Mega Man. Do you think she'll play that with us?"

"You play Crash and Mega Man? God, you're awesome," he told her. "Why couldn't you be my sister?"

"Oh, I'm sure mine would love to make a trade," she said, grinning.

Cici then came into the room, carrying a large box that had 'DESK STUFF' written on the side of it, which she dropped onto the wooden desk near her bed. The adults were with her but they just set stuff in the hallway and went right back downstairs to get the unpacking over with.

"C, your roommate is so cool," Frankie told her excitedly. "She likes video games, she plays the guitar—" At that, he gestured to the yellow electric guitar and acoustic one sitting on stands in the corner. "—and she survived freaking murder."

"Oh, my god, Frankie, what did we tell you?" Cici asked, her eyes wide in surprise.

"It's okay," Indiana said, letting out a small laugh. "Really, it's not hard for me to talk about it."

"Are you sure?" she asked, chewing on her lip.

"Totally. If anything, me and my buddy Randy make way too many jokes about it," she told her.

When it came to all of them, Indiana and Randy came out the least emotionally scarred, which was surprising considering he was shot and she went on a rampage and killed Billy. Sidney, naturally, avoided the subject like the plague. And while Jackson was never injured or even ran into the guys while in the Ghostface costume, it was a sensitive subject because of what happened with Sophia.

If you caught him in a good mood, though, he'd crack a smile at whatever fucked up joke Randy or Indy made. After all, Sophia lived — she just had to go through surgery to fix some cut tendons in her fingers and then do months of physical therapy on her hand. She was okay now and back to playing the drums like a pro.

"We try to not bring it up around Sid, though," Indiana informed Cici.

"Understood," she said, nodding. Then she started pulling things out of the box, filling up the drawers in the desk. "I think it's so cool you're from California. I can just imagine the shopping."

Indiana let out a laugh and shook her head. And Frankie just groaned as they started talking about clothes, opting to go back and get stuff out of the car. "Woodsboro has, like, one boutique. But my band played in a few bigger cities that were probably more your speed."

"We're from Montana, so literally anywhere with a Walmart that's not forty minutes away is my speed," she said with a grin.

The Garfield-shaped phone that Indiana brought all the way from California was set up on her desk, already hooked up to the jack. And when it rang, she skipped over to pick it up. Only about six people had her phone number, so it narrowed down the options of who was calling.

"Room 332 — Indiana speaking," she greeted with a grin. She'd have to give Cici the number so that she could use it too.

"Hey, Indy," Jackson spoke on the other end.

"Missing me already?" she asked teasingly. "So clingy."

"As if. Is your sister still using my dad's toolbox to build that shelf?"

"Nah, we finished up. You need it?"

"Yeah, can you run it by? My roommate brought this chair, but we don't have the right size screwdriver to get the legs on," he told her.

"Be there in ten."

"It's room 243. And Randy is down in 118 if you wanna check on him."

After hanging up, Indiana looked back at Cici. "I'm gonna run something over to Hewitt Hall real quick," she said while getting the box of tools Jackson needed.

"Okay. I'll probably be here... a while," Cici said sheepishly, looking at all the boxes she had to unload. Whatever the opposite of a minimalist was, Cici Cooper was unapologetically that.

With the toolbox in hand, Indy left her new room. But she did stop by the one next door to check on Sidney. "Hey, I'm going over to Jackson and Randy's dorm. You wanna come?" she offered, seeing her friend trying to put together a lamp with Neil. Then another girl came out of the closet space, catching her attention. "Oh, hi. You must be Hallie? Sid's roommate?"

"That's me," the girl said, smiling at her. "Do you live here too?"

"I'm Indiana from the room next door," she said, nodding back to the hallway.

"I think I'm gonna stay and help Hallie put her stuff away," Sidney said. "Her parents couldn't get off work to come help."

"Such a sweet, perfect angel that anyone would be lucky to know," Indy cooed at Sidney, who rolled her eyes playfully. "Anyway, I'm gonna harass and hinder the boys so much that they regret knowing  me."

"Well, someone has to do it since Sophia couldn't make the trip," Sidney said with a smile. The high school went back to classes the week before, so Sophia stayed behind and was sleeping over at Isaiah's house for the few days her parents were gone — it was safe to say she was miserable. Yeah, she loved Isaiah, and his father wasn't half bad, but fuck, if his mother wasn't the worst person on the planet.

In fact, the conversation she had with Jackson and Isaiah that led to her staying there went along the lines of:

"Why don't you stay with Zay's family?"

"I'd rather find out Stu Macher was alive and hunting me for sport than sit at the breakfast table with Annabelle Starnes."

"Oh, she eats at like four in the morning, so you won't see her there with us."

She'd been there two days so far and called Jackson's cell phone countless times to complain.

"Alright, I'm out," Indiana said, backing out of the door. "But go introduce yourselves to my roommate Cici at some point. She seems really nice so far."

☆︎

Indiana was on her own as she sought out Hewitt Hall. She asked if Virginia wanted to come, but the older Winger sibling decided to ask around about campus security. It was both a safety precaution and something Dewey told her to do.

Virginia and Dewey. It was... complicated. Because despite Virginia being the nurse that attended to Dewey the whole time he was in the hospital recovering from the stab wound and learning to walk again after the nerve damage, he started dating Gale fucking Weathers. Granted, Gale did ask him out while Virginia never did that.

But then Gale went off the rails and wrote her ridiculously offensive book, The Woodsboro Murders, which painted many of them involved in an unflattering light, Dewey included. And after that, Virginia just couldn't forgive him for even dating someone like that in the first place after knowing how horrible she was to Sidney during her mother's trial and her treatment of her and Indiana during the Ghostface situation.

The two remained friends. It was a tense friendship, and one day, Indiana knew the tension would grow to be too much and the two would get back together. Hopefully, it'd be more than just a friends-with-benefits situation, because she knew how much the dopey man made Virginia happy.

Anyway, with Tatum gone, Dewey felt incredibly protective of Sidney, Sophia, and Indiana. So he did a lot of research on the campus security policies of every university the seniors applied to since he couldn't really help with the moving process. Since Windsor was rather small — though still a lot bigger than Woodsboro — the crime rate was low.

The campus was small enough that you could walk from one end to the other in less than fifteen minutes, so Indiana had no trouble finding Jackson's dorm. Like her own building, the outside was packed with families helping their kids move in. She wormed through her fellow freshman and got in, looking around for the staircase.

"You look like a sewer rat," Randy said, having been walking through the lobby when he spotted Indiana there. Her hair was in a tight, sweaty ponytail, and she looked like she did after hours of basketball practice.

"It's hot, and I'm moving stuff. We all look like sweaty sewer rats," Indiana told him, looking at the ring of sweat around his own t-shirt.

"So, what are you doing here, Child's Play?"

She rolled her eyes at him. Randy had taken to calling her the titles of horror movies ever since witnessing her kill Billy. Most of the time, they were slashers, but every now and then, he'd slip in a paranormal or psychological thriller.

"Bringing Jax some tools, Target Practice," she shot back, a smirk on her face. "Where's the stairs?"

"This way," he said, leading her through the building with a smile. "I've decided I hate my roommate. Paul is so fucking annoying."

Indiana couldn't help but laugh. "You've known him, what? An hour? Less?"

"I tried to show him my movie collection, and he said he doesn't watch movies. Who the hell doesn't watch movies?" he asked, clearly upset. "What do you do with your free time?"

"Well, there's reading, music, sports, art—"

"Now you're just trying to get on my nerves," he said, rolling his eyes. Then he nodded to the end of the hallway. There was music blaring and boys running all over. "Jackson's room is down this way."

Indiana was speaking and holding the toolbox above her head like the Say Anything boombox as she stepped into the room that wasn't quite as spacious as the one she shared with Cici. "Don't worry, useless men, the girl is here to fix everything."

Jackson was sitting on the carpeted floor with the disassembled chair that was overstuffed and looked very comfy, though it'd probably be more comfortable once put together. On the other side of the chair was another boy, presumably Jackson's roommate, Derek. Mr. and Mrs. Martin were busy bunking the two beds to make more room.

"Two hours ago, you were going on and on about how men were physically stronger, and girls just didn't have the capabilities required to do manual labor," Jackson said flatly.

"Well, yeah, because all my boxes were heavy," she said, lowering the tools. "But those are all up in my room now, so the feminism has returned to my body."

"That's how it's done, girlie," Mrs. Martin spoke up, laughing. "Wish I'd have thought of that so that I wasn't helping with these beds."

In an instant, Jackson's roommate was on his feet and rushing over to help her lift the frame of the bed. "So sorry, Mrs. Martin. I wasn't even thinking about that." Jackson just grumbled something about making him look bad.

"See," Indiana said, gesturing to the physically flawless boy. "Good ol' fashioned misogyny comes in handy once again." Then she nodded to him in greeting. "What's up? I'm Indiana. This is Randy."

"Derek Feldman," he introduced while lining up the legs of the two beds. "Jackson said there were a couple of you here together from out in California."

"Yeah, we're all very codependent," Indy said, throwing her arm around Randy.

"She's joking," Randy said as she messed with his hair. Then he thought about it — they'd traveled across the country together, not willing to part. They even created their class schedules around each other as best they could. "Well, she's half-joking."

"Well, it's nice to meet you both," Derek said with a charming smile. "Maybe we can all hang out at the Orientation stuff. Bring your roommate along."

"Will do," she said grinning.

Indiana was excited to be meeting new people and on the way to making friends. It felt like those first few days when she moved to Woodsboro, her extroverted nature itching to meet as many new people as she could. Only this time, she wouldn't go around befriending serial killers.

Life in Ohio would be different, she could already feel it in her bones. Nothing was going to ruin her college experience.

☆︎

The first day of classes went fairly smoothly. For whatever reason, the semester started that Tuesday rather than Monday — probably to give freshmen another day to get settled. The extra day gave Indiana time to get to know her roommate better, as well as Sidney's. Like Derek suggested, they all ended up sticking together during Orientation, and he got to meet Hallie, Cici, and Sidney.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays, Indiana had mostly generic classes that she went to. She was happy that Sidney was in her English composition course, and Randy snagged the seat next to her in history. Both Derek and Cici were in her chemistry lab, and all three sat at the same table.

The other three days of the week, Indy had the classes she was most looking forward to — music marketing and the first semester of a sequence of film theory classes. She didn't know anyone in the music class, but both Randy and Cici were in her film class, which made it being so early in the morning more bearable.

"Hey!" Randy called as soon as the two roommates entered the classroom, mere minutes before the class was meant to start. He pulled his backpack and coat out of the desks next to him, which he'd been using as placeholders. "Saved you guys spots."

"Thanks, Randy," Indiana said, quickly going over. She was just glad the professor wasn't there yet.

"Kinda pushing is for the first day," he whispered to the girls as they sat down.

"It takes time to be this pretty, Meek," Cici said with a smug smile. Her blonde hair was perfectly curled at the ends, not a strand out of place. She also wore a cute purple dress and a white cardigan.

As for Indy, she looked nice, though not as put together as her roommate. She just threw on some baggy black jeans with holes in the knees and a yellow crop top with KISS on the front in a fairly-faded design considering it was Virginia's from high school.

Randy managed to wink at Cici, responding to her comment. "And it certainly paid off, Cooper."

Indiana snorted while also feeling a little proud internally. Ever since what happened in Woodsboro, Randy was a lot more confident in himself. Of course, his heart still bled for Sidney, but daring to flirt with someone as physically flawless as Cici at nine in the morning while wearing a dorky Ghostbusters shirt was certainly confident.

"Don't I look nice, Randall?" Indy asked him, batting her eyelashes at him playfully.

He grinned at her. "I can tell you put in effort today because you don't look like a sewer rat."

Indiana scoffed and smacked him with her brand-new notebook. "Ass."

"Sleepaway Camp," he shot back with a smirk.

"Guys, not in class," Cici mumbled, shaking her head. She was still adjusting to how casually Randy and Indiana were with joking about the massacres. Hell, she was just still adjusting to a survivor being her roommate. They were going to have to ease her into it or avoid the subject entirely like they did around Sidney.

Both Randy and Indiana put their hands up in surrender and settled down. Besides, they couldn't have talked much longer, because a middle-aged man came into the room, ceasing all the chatter as he dropped the textbook down on his desk at the front.

"Hello, class. I am Professor MacDonald, but Professor Mac is okay," he started off. Then he leaned against the side of the desk, looking at them. "Welcome to Film Theory. For the next two semesters, we have so many cinematographers, editing styles, camera angles, and theories to learn about together. But before we do that, I want some introductions made — think of it as an icebreaker."

At his words, several of the students let out annoyed groans. The mandatory Welcome Weekend events already had them participate in a handful of awkward icebreakers that didn't actually help any of them make friends — if anything, it just took away time that they could've spent getting settled into their new dorm rooms.

"Don't sound so miserable," Professor Mac said with a grin. "It's at least related to the class. We're gonna go around the room. Say your name and then tell us three of your favorite movies of all time."

"Only three?" Randy asked, sounding genuinely in distress. "That's impossible." Indiana and several others nodded — she could rattle off fifty in two minutes without taking a breath.

"Try your best," he told them, understanding how difficult a request that would be for people that were passionate about movies. "They can all be the same genre, but it's even better if you have diverse taste because I plan to take your favorite movies and work them into my lectures as practical examples."

As they started, there were admittedly some repeats. Star Wars. Jaws. Die Hard. Blade Runner. But Professor Mac wrote all of them down to reference for his lesson plans.

Cici chose Grease, The Lost Boys, and The Last Unicorn. Some asshole named Dennis tried to make fun of her for the last one, but Professor Mac cut that out quickly, emphasizing the importance of animation in film. After the teacher turned his head, Cici shot Dennis a smug look while Indiana flipped him off from behind her.

"And you," the professor said, nodding to Randy since he was closest to Cici.

Randy looked down at the piece of notebook paper he stole from Indiana so that he could write down all his options. "Randy Meeks, Sir."

"Hey," a girl named Elizabeth spoke up, her thick southern accent clear from only one word. "Do I know you?"

He studied the girl and shrugged. "Sorry, I don't think we've met."

"You look awfully familiar," she went on. Then she flushed and shook her head. "Sorry, I shouldn't have interrupted. I probably saw you at Orientation or something."

"No sweat," he told her, looking back at the teacher. "Just so you know, this was torture for me, but I've settled for The Shining, 1980, Halloween, 1978, and A Nightmare on Elm Street, 1984."

"I see you took the different genre suggestion very seriously," Indiana teased.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "I don't wanna hear it from you — I know exactly what you're gonna fucking say."

"Then share with the class if Mr. Meeks seems to hate your choices already," Professor Mac said, nodding to Indy.

She sat a little straight and grinned. "I'm Indiana Winger, and while I love Raiders, it's not one of them," she joked, earning several laughs. "Let's see — Labyrinth, 1986. Then This Is Spinal Tap, 1984. And my absolute—"

"Oh, my god!" Elizabeth interrupted, sitting forward in her chair quickly. Everyone looked at her, a little put off by her seemingly constant interruptions. "That's why Randy's familiar. You're the Indiana Winger from California. Y'all survived those murders!"

Indiana slid down in her chair and shared a look with Randy. Then again, it was better to get it over with. Once their classmates got over the initial shock, things would calm down.

"Holy shit," Dennis breathed out. "Yeah, that chick wrote that book about you!"

"You can read?" Cici asked him doubtfully. "Who'd've thought?"

"I heard they sold movie rights."

"Did you really get shot, Randy?"

"Is it true you totally went crazy and stabbed one of them to death?"

"Wasn't one your boyfriend?"

"Hey, hey, hey!" one boy shouted, raising his voice above all the others. He even waved his hands, getting them to look at him. Though Indy kept her eyes trained on her notebook, containing a groan. "I've got a very important question, Indiana. Way more important than those shit ones."

"Yeah, and what's that?" she questioned, rolling her eyes.

"What's your third movie?"

Indiana quickly turned her head to look at the boy in the row of desks behind her and to her left. There was a coy smile on his face with handsome features, his brown eyes fixed on her intently — but they didn't have the same scrutinizing and curious look that everyone else's eyes had while looking at her.

"The best horror movie ever made," she informed him matter-of-factly, angling her body to face him better.

"Oh, god," Randy groaned, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling.

The boy ignored Randy and leaned closer with interest. "Psycho?" he guessed, tilting his head.

Indiana shook her head and grinned at him, which only made his smile widen as he raised his eyebrow, silently asking for her answer. For just a moment, she just appreciated how handsome he looked while smiling, but didn't let herself admire him for too long, not wanting Randy to catch on and say something to embarrass her.

"1988, Killer Klowns From Outer Space."

At her answer, the boy's mouth fell open, a mix between disbelief and astonishment. Then he let out a laugh and shook his head. "No, you either have to be lying or just have zero taste," he said, still laughing.

"She has zero taste," Randy jumped in with a sarcastic smile.

"That movie is so—"

"Iconic," she cut the boy off. "It has no flaws."

"It has many flaws," Randy insisted, and the boy nodded along with him. "Bad acting, bad plot—"

"Zero flaws!" Indiana shouted over him.

Randy scowled at her. "You are insane for thinking it's the best horror movie."

"It is the best," she insisted, unwavering in her opinion. "You can't name a single one better."

"I can name a hundred! The Exorcist!" the boy said. "Alien, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Night of the Living Dead—"

"I'm sure this could go on for the remainder of class," Professor Mac cut him off, looking clearly amused. "And Miss Winger has chosen a fantastic movie that can be discussed in our cult classic section, as well as the one on special effects."

"See," Indy said smugly to the two boys. "Fantastic movie."

"Quote taken out of context," Randy declared, shaking his head. "I didn't hear the expert agreeing with you that it was good quality." Indiana just threw her hands up and turned back to the front, knowing she couldn't sit through this argument with Randy another time with so many witnesses.

"As for your other choices, Labyrinth is perfect for puppetry as a medium, and This Is Spinal Tap is a spoof documentary. You've certainly given me much to work with."

At his validation, Indiana stuck her tongue out childishly at Randy even though he never criticized her other choices.

"Now, let's hear from you, young man, since you're such a critic," Professor Mac said, looking to the boy that'd been arguing with Indy and Randy.

Indiana turned around once more, looking at him pointedly. "Mickey Altieri," he introduced, staring right back at her. Mickey wasn't speaking to Professor Mac. Just her. "Psycho, obviously, then The Silence of the Lambs. And to keep from packing on too much horror, The Breakfast Club. Does that have your approval, Dr. Jones?" he asked sarcastically.

"You'll notice she's not gonna mercilessly make fun of the things you genuinely enjoy," Cici cut in, looking at Mickey unimpressed. She had to be offended for Indiana because she was just too busy trying not to smile as he called her Dr. Jones.

"Well, Breakfast Club doesn't have a bitchin' song by The Dickies, but the soundtrack is iconic, so I'll let your basic answers slide."

Of course, as she referred to three wildly popular movies as 'basic', it sent half the class into an uproar. And that had been her intent. What better way to get a bunch of film studies students to forget you survived a massacre than by getting them to argue about movies? Randy helped a lot because he both knew what she was doing and also loved to fight with her about her movie taste.

For the remainder of the fifty-minute class, Professor Mac moderated the first of many debates that would be held in the room. It was also the first time that Cici thought Mickey was annoying, the first time Indiana thought Mickey had a nice smile, and the first time Mickey looked into Indiana's eyes and knew he was fucked.