So Jon isn't good as new in the morning, but he is back in class, and when he walks in the door, Sansa rewards him with a near blinding smile.

"Welcome back, slacker," she teases him gently, pushing a bottle of orange juice towards him. He probably could have stood with some coffee, too, but the Vitamin C will do him some good and has less of a chance of mingling strangely with the medicine she'd left for him.

"My hero," Jon chuckles weakly, sliding into his desk. He still sounds congested, his eyes still look drowsy, but they come alive just a little at the sight of Sansa, and she figures that's good enough.

" My hero. If you ever leave me here alone again, you're going to seriously regret it," she retorts, pointing towards the list of topics for today's class that are on the board. She's dreading it — it's geography, she's always dreading it — but Jon being back at least makes her hate the whole thing a little less.

Jon heads home to rest after class, still feeling week from his whirlwind illness. Sansa doesn't pout about it, per se, but she does miss having a study buddy at the kitchen table with her as she pours over maps of the west.

And if she's slightly disappointed every time her phone buzzes and it's Margaery instead of Jon, well… it's just because she wants a good grade.

And maybe a little bit of her annoyance is because Margaery keeps asking if she can send her pictures of Robb shirtless around the house.

And a lot of it is because when she types in all caps NO! , Margaery replies that she would be a dear and take shirtless pictures of Jon for Sansa.

As if Sansa would even want those.

Except that night, Sansa has a strange dream. She's on a boat, like she would have been on Monday if she'd skived off from class, and Margaery and Robb and Theon are all there; Gendry and Arya too. She knows her siblings and her friends — they're always loud, and vibrant, but in her dream, they're blurry and muffled. Like they're not what's important.

Jon's in the dream, too. He's in the dream in screaming color, smiling and laughing and beckoning her to come join him, and he is, quite irritatingly, shirtless.

Or at least, wakeful Sansa would be annoyed by Jon's lack of shirt. Dreamland Sansa seems to float towards him, and she feels a giddy lightness, one that feels so achingly real as he takes her hand and leads her towards the front of the boat.

She wakes up abruptly, and she can almost still feel it — the wind in her hair, the sun on her face, the warmth of Jon's hand clinging to hers.

It's Margaery's fault somehow, she knows it must be because of her barrage of texts the night before, because Sansa doesn't want those kinds of things with her brother's best friend…

Does she?

Wednesday morning when she comes into class, Sansa can't help but feel a little weird the second she spots Jon. Obviously, he's fully clothed, waiting at his desk, perking up at the sight of her. But he's just… cuter than usual, somehow. His curls are messier and he's wearing a loose cotton t-shirt and something about him makes Sansa feel a little floatier than she has around him in the past.

She doesn't imagine what he looks like underneath the t-shirt, but she can't help but picture it just a little all the same.

After a quick greeting, Sansa spends most of the first half of the morning staring resolutely at her notes, avoiding eye contact with Jon. She can feel his eyes boring into her, though, like he knows she's more jittery and distracted than she usually is, and when they break in the middle of the morning, Sansa runs off to the bathroom and doesn't come back until their time's nearly up.

"I'm not still contagious, you know," Jon mutters to her, the hint of a laugh in his voice. She's relieved that that's all he thinks is wrong; it's much better than having to admit her thoughts keep trailing to whether his torso really looks like it had in her dreams or not.

"Good," Sansa replies, doing her best to try to smile at him. It's flatter than it might usually be, but it seems to be enough for Jon, and the way he smiles back makes her stomach swoop a little right as Mr. Selmy calls class back to order.

That dumb, barely populated continent in the west can not hold Sansa's attention. And after two hours of resolutely avoiding looking at Jon, spending the next two staring at him seems like a horrible plan, really.

Yet if she doesn't do something to distract herself, Sansa has a bad feeling that that's exactly what she'll wind up doing. His confused, slack-jawed look when he doesn't understand the lesson, his dopey smile when he gets something right; the dimple in his cheek, the way he has to brush his hair out of his face when it gets too unruly..

Sansa's not sure when she started noticing so much about Jon; it feels like it happened all at once, although she's sure if she really looked back on the last two weeks, she could see it slowly sneaking up on her.

I hate you , she texts under the table to Margaery, finally, when she can't bear it any longer.

Moi? Whatever for, dear? Her best friend types back almost instantly, which would make Sansa happy, Margaery's willingness to drop everything to reply to her, if it didn't also make her roll her eyes. Sansa had spent more than two whole weeks paying attention to her coursework instead of distractedly messaging her friend, but it's like Margaery knew as soon as she started planting weird thoughts about Jon into her head that the messages would start rolling in.

For thinking Robb's hot. Gross , Sansa lies at first, then starts to type again. She's sure Margaery is watching the bubbles pop up and then disappear, and finally Sansa gives up and waits.

She doesn't have to wait long.

And?

Isn't that enough of a reason? Sansa types, glancing up in between to make sure that Mr. Selmy isn't watching her as she ignores him and hopes for the best. There's not that much to learn this week; Sansa can just teach it to herself later, she's sure it'll be fine.

It's a terrible reason; I'd be a delightful sister-in-law , Margaery says entirely too casually. Sansa's not sure when the jokes about marrying her brother started — they've only been around each other a handful of times — but her brain's so filled with thoughts of Jon right now that she almost doesn't even care that Margaery's messing with her like this. Besides, I know you. You're not mad about me and your hot brother, you're mad about yourself and your hot brother's friend ;-)

At that, Sansa's eyes dart towards Jon. He is hot, she has eyes , but his hotness has never had her feeling all ridiculous like this before. He's Jon . He's Robb's Jon, Arya's Jon, but he's not Sansa's Jon. She shouldn't be thinking about him like this, and she firmly believes that she still wouldn't be thinking about him like this if her best friend hadn't decided to be loveably annoying about it.

I hate you , Sansa repeated, and she can feel Jon's eyes boring into her again as she texts Margaery. He's clearly curious, wondering why she's leaving him in charge of taking notes. He might even be worried , thinking there's a family emergency or something, and Sansa feels a pang of guilt for zoning out and texting her best friend like this.

But not enough guilt to stop doing it. Instead, she fills Margaery in on the shirtless dream, and tells her to focus when she coos about how she and Robb were featured in Sansa's dream as well.

Focusing doesn't do much good either, though. Focused Margaery mostly sends a bunch of haikus about Jon and Sansa and what pretty babies they'd make at worst, and kissy faces at best.

By the end of class, Sansa's best friend has only made her feel worse . Because if she doesn't have a full-blown crush on Jon Snow by this point, it seems inevitable that she at least has a half- blown crush on him — or at the very least, is attracted to him and would totally make out with him if he wanted to, and that is so not what her summer school experience was supposed to turn into.

Still, Jon makes it way too easy to blush and imagine all the scenarios Margaery is texting her, especially when he keeps gazing at her with those soulful dark eyes of his the whole entire rest of the class period.

Thankfully, Jon decides to spend another evening laying low and recuperating from his illness, so Sansa doesn't have to spend all evening huddled close, crouched over books with him right after her very inconvenient revelation.

Sansa goes up to her room and plops herself down at her desk, book splayed out in front of her, and she is determined to catch up on what she'd zoned out on today. It's not very much, truth be told; Sansa outlines the chapter and has made flashcards to go over before it's even dinner time. For once, she even enjoys herself, sitting and eating with her family. She's not stressed about time she's wasting not studying, and she and Arya gang up on Robb, teasing him about all the flirting he apparently did with Margaery on Monday, so no one even asks Sansa questions about summer school.

It's only when she's back up in her room that she has time to go back to stressing, and even then, it's not about her school work, it's about Jon . Does she really have a crush on him, or did she just let herself get caught up in Margaery's mania? Her best friend has a habit of sweeping her up in the excitement of things, only for Sansa to lose some of that enthusiasm later on her own.

The vibrating noise of her phone on the nightstand shakes her out of her thoughts, and she grabs at her phone eagerly, glad for the distraction.

Except when she sees it's Jon on the caller ID, the flipping sensation in her stomach seems a pretty clear indication that it wasn't just Margaery putting words in her mouth earlier after all. She , Sansa Stark, has definitely caught something that one might be able to call feelings for Jon Snow.

"Hey!" Sansa says, perhaps a little too chirpily, when she picks up the call. But it's fine if she sounds happy. Jon can't see how extra-wide her smile is just to talk to him, after all — he can't think it's silly of her to be excited when he's probably just calling to talk about geography anyway.

"My night was too quiet without your attempts at memorizing countries through pop songs," Jon replies instead, and it's only then that it settles over her that Jon's never called her before. He's texted her plenty, he's come and knocked on the door to her room when he's here to see Robb, but a phone call is a first, and his voice is just as low and rumbly and pleasant to her through the airwaves as it is in person.

"That was one time!" Sansa giggled, settling against the pillows propped up at the head of her bed, tucking her hair behind her ear so that she can hear him clearly through the phone.

"One time that was the difference between a B and a B+ for you, if I remember right," Jon says, reminding her of their study sessions last week, when they'd tried so many different study methods and she'd eventually gone and dragged him out for ice cream instead.

It feels like so long ago already — he's ingrained himself so much more into her life during their geography class, but she supposes that it makes sense, right? An intense connection to him while they're in an intense, knowledge-crammed summer school session?

Except Jon probably doesn't see it the same way as she does. He probably still just sees her as a friendly face in class to share the misery with him, and when this is all over, things will go back to how they were before for him.

Sansa will just have to make the most of having Jon's attention while she does have it, then.

"And since I'm so smart, now you're calling me to try and suck away all my knowledge for yourself?" Sansa teases, and she swears Jon chuckles on the other end of the line. It's not something he does a lot, laughing, but she feels like he's been doing it more and more around her.

And okay, he does ask her a bunch of questions about what he missed on Monday, and makes sure they had the same takeaways from class today (or in Sansa's class, reading the book and re-learning what she'd ignored in class today) for a while. Somewhere during the conversation, though, talk of geography becomes less and less frequent, and before Sansa knows it, they're talking about anything but school as another hour passes.

They talk about Margaery and Robb, about Arya's latest prank on her parents, about how Jon's always wanted a husky like the Starks have but instead his Aunt Daenerys had once tried to give him a miniature komodo dragon for a pet instead. (He'd quickly gotten rid of it; he says Dany likes to give him things that are dangerous and illegal for some reason.) Sansa admits to him that once as a little girl she'd wanted to be a flight attendant, so she could travel the world.

Jon actually does laugh out loud at that, given their current predicament when it comes to the world's geography, and Sansa finds herself laughing along with him, too. Unbridled, more relaxed than she's been all day — she hasn't thought about Margaery's words in ages, and it's easier like this, to just enjoy him without having to see his stupid, cute, stupidly cute face.

She doesn't know what time they finally hang up, mostly because Sansa doesn't think she does hang up. She's pretty sure she falls asleep just listening to him breathe on the line, and that night, Sansa dreams of Jon again.

Sansa's dreams are softer this time. The colors don't scream, they lull her, making her feel calm, peaceful, happy. All things that are easy to still associate with Jon when she wakes up.

She's not nearly as tired as she should be, considering how late she'd stayed up on the phone. Jon, on the other hand, looks a little droopy when she spots him in class, but it doesn't stop his eyes from crinkling at the edges when he smiles at the sight of her.

Mr. Selmy's hardly even called class to order when a piece of paper appears on her desk, with Jon's handwriting scrawled across it.

Figured I'd entertain you today, so you don't kill your phone battery . She can hear the teasing lilt to his voice when she reads it, and she bites back a smile. She likes when they do this, when they just pass notes back and forth instead of paying attention. It's a luxury they can't usually afford, but tomorrow's their test and she feels prepared for this one. The easiest of the continents, before they get to the final week. The boss mode week, as Jon has been calling it, when they prove just how little they know of Westeros even after living there their entire lives.

Sansa writes back, You're probably much better at keeping me from having a meltdown than Margaery is without even thinking about the implications of it.

A meltdown, huh? What were you having a meltdown about?

No, Sansa definitely hadn't thought about it before she'd passed him back that note, and now she quickly has to wrack her brain for an answer that isn't you . She vaguely hears Mr. Selmy mentioning their test tomorrow, though, and uses that as the perfect excuse.

About how this isn't the last week of class, and next week we have to try not to flunk Westeros .

She accompanies it with an attempt at drawing a scared face — it looks much better as an emoji than it does as a Sansa-doodle, but it makes Jon shake his head at her fondly, at least.

He writes back that he's nervous about the Westeros exam, too, and they spend the rest of the morning trying to brainstorm how they can possibly pass geography this time.

Before the break, Sansa and Jon's ideas for how to pass had been ridiculous . Things like teleportation devices, time machines, laser imprints of maps on their eyelids, and stealing cryogenically frozen brains had all been mentioned.

But after break, Jon passes her a note with just one word on it.

Road trip .

Sansa stares at it quizzically before she really grasps what he means.

To learn about Westeros, we have to see Westeros? She writes back quickly, and as soon as Jon reads her note, he nods his head affirmatively, just a slight movement that Mr. Selmy can't see.

Sansa's not sure she's ever smiled so bright. She's sure later , when she has time to really think about it, she'll panic maybe just a little bit. Right now, though, the boy she's just realized she's started to fall for has asked her to spend the weekend getting an up close and personal look at geography with him, and she couldn't be more excited.

They spend the rest of class flipping away from their current section and pointing at random spots in the Westeros section instead. They don't reach a consensus on where to go — Highgarden's too far, and Sansa's already been there. Dorne's even farther, and there are only so many hours between Friday's test and Monday's class.

In the end, they table the discussion for later. They've still got to get through tomorrow's exam on this continent before they can focus on their own, anyway. And sure, Sansa feels more prepared than she has for any of her other tests so far, but Jon was absent on Monday, and she's been mentally absent for a good bit of the week, so…

Jon comes home with her, to study like they normally do. Sansa might have told him they really didn't need it and they could just take it easy tonight, but she likes having his company.

She also thinks she doesn't want to find out if he'd call her again, if he didn't come over. She'd have been disappointed if he didn't, she thinks. And if he did, there's something kind of dangerously intimate about how she'd fallen asleep just listening to him last night.

They hadn't talked about it at all, the whole phone call thing. Sansa figures it probably just wasn't a big deal to Jon, not the way it was to her. Still, it's a relief to have him in her house, in her space, where she can focus on him rather than just obsessing over him from afar.

Their studying doesn't last as long as it usually does, though. It's hardly dinner time and Sansa feels overprepared for tomorrow's test. Jon's seeming pretty confident,too, so after dinner, they end up abandoning their books and playing board games with her siblings instead.

If they fail, then they fail. Sansa hates the idea of wasting another four weeks of summer cooped up inside away from the sun, but she doesn't hate the idea of four more weeks of Jon having to hang out with her instead of with Robb and Arya.

The thing is, though… Robb's not whining about Sansa stealing Jon anymore. He immediately claims Theon as his partner, and Arya grumbles and asks why Theon doesn't ever go home, because now the numbers are uneven. They decide Bran will sit out this one, continuing to read in the corner instead, and Arya doesn't even try to take Jon away from her. She dibs Rickon, muttering that he's a stupider version of Robb but he'll do , and Jon turns to Sansa with one of those shy smiles of his.

"Maybe we'll be as good of a team as we are study buddies," he suggests hopefully, and Rickon boos at that.

"Or maybe you're going to get destroyed," Arya says menacingly, cracking her knuckles in their faces, and then the games begin.

They stay at it for a while, with Arya gleefully throwing pillows at Jon when she sinks their battleship, and Theon trying to smuggle money out of the bank while playing Monopoly. The night winds down with them playing a three-way matchup of Sequence, although that ends prematurely, too, when Rickon flips the board over and accuses Sansa of cheating .

She hasn't been cheating. If anything, Sansa hasn't been paying as much attention to the game as she should at all. She's kind of been staring into Jon's eyes, flashing him secret smiles that under any other circumstances Arya would have noticed were gross. Competitive Arya doesn't realize they're gross, though. Competitive Arya is accusing Sansa and Jon of table talk, of having some kind of secret code with their eyes, and the game ends abruptly before she can put her last piece down and claim a victory for them.

Sansa only cares about beating her siblings because they're so annoying about winning, though. And tonight, she really hadn't had time to bother caring about victory at all. She'd rather save her good mojo for tomorrow's test, or maybe even for this weekend's road trip instead.

As Robb dutifully cleans up their games, Sansa walks Jon out to say goodbye. He lingers, though; they sit on her porch, talking about places that they can go see this weekend, where they might learn the most for next week.

"What about King's Landing? I could see where you go to school," Jon proposes, but Sansa bursts out into a fit of giggles.

"Jon, do you even know how far that is? It's not much better than when we were talking about Highgarden," she laughs, although the more places they talk about, the more it seems like maybe a daytrip isn't so realistic after all. Winterfell and its surrounding areas are huge , and it'll take hours to get anywhere new.

Suddenly, Sansa gets a little shivery at the idea of maybe spending somewhere overnight with Jon. Would her parents even allow it? She's sure she can find a way to convince them — it is for school, after all.

Jon mistakes her shiver of anticipation for her being cold, and rubs his hands lazily up and down her arms, as if the friction will warm her. It has the opposite effect; Sansa's pretty sure his touch just accomplishes giving her goosepimples.

Thank the gods for Jon's politeness. He misreads her body's signals and just takes the bumps he's causing on her skin as confirmation the the night's chilly.

"The Riverlands? The Eyrie? Harrenhal? Casterly Rock?" Jon suggests in rapid succession, like he wants to get this sorted so he can get Sansa back inside where she'll be warm. If only he knew how warm she really feels, as he stops trying to rub her arms and just tugs her into his side to share his body warmth instead.

"Oh! Casterly Rock," Sansa agrees excitedly, finally feeling like they might have a real, viable option. "My friend Myrcella's staying there with her uncle Jaime and aunt Brienne; maybe we could go and stay with them? Make sure we can take our time and not miss out on anything."

She feels giddy when Jon looks immensely pleased with her suggestion.

"That works. My great uncle's still out of town anyway, it would be nice to be somewhere where I'm not so alone all weekend," Jon says sheepishly.

Which is silly — Robb would have insisted he stay with the Starks. Arya would have insisted he stay there, too. And Sansa's surprised she hadn't insisted sooner, after she'd caught him sick alone on Monday. She just hadn't realized, she guessed; or maybe a part of her had felt a little too nervous even then, about seeing Jon around the house now that she's got this new kind of charged energy when she sees him.

The nervousness is all excitement now, though, as she wraps him in a tight hug to say goodbye. The second she's watched him drive off, she scurries back inside, eagerly calling Myrcella before she's even asked her parents if her roadtrip is okay.

The roadtrip is okay. Myrcella giddily says yes, Cat is excited to see Sansa taking initiative to get out ahead of next week's lessons, and Ned says there's no one he'd trust more to take Sansa out of town than Jon. There are perks to having grown up around her crazy family after all, it seems.

Jon's never been the most expressive person, but she can actually feel his enthusiasm when she texts him that they're good to go. They could even leave as early as tomorrow after class, if they want to — and they do . Jon literally asks 'how soon can we go?' when she tells him things are all set, and they make a plan to leave straight from Winterfell High.

Maybe Sansa should be using the hour before she goes to bed to review her notes for tomorrow's test… But instead, she goes about packing some of her cutest outfits in an overnight bag, preparing for her and Jon's upcoming adventure.

Barely twelve hours later, Sansa and Jon have both breezed through their tests (or at least, they think they have. They've at least gotten C's, Sansa's confident there's no way they haven't passed).

They slide their completed papers onto Mr. Selmy's desk, high five each other as congratulations on another week of summer school under their belts, and then they're in Jon's car, hitting the open road towards the Westerlands.