CHAPTER 6

  I hated being sick. That’s normal, but this time it went beyond simply having the flu, including all the gross and uncomfortable bodily breakdowns which came with it. My heart ached too. Why did this happen to me on the same day Micah returned to school? Life continued its cruelty.

  When I woke up feeling awful Monday morning, Mom took my temperature and told me to go back to sleep. I protested but knew she was right. As badly as I wanted to see Micah, I didn’t have the strength for school and, realistically, didn’t want him to see me at my worst. Besides, what if I gave him whatever nasty bug I had?

  I went back to sleep, but my mind fixated on the boy, tormenting me with fever-gripped dreams. They started off fairly innocent. Micah refused to talk to me. Waking briefly, I moaned, rolled over, and quickly fell back to sleep. I dreamed of him again, but this time he yelled at me to stop following him around. He didn’t want to be my friend. He hated me.

  When I woke to a knock on my bedroom door, I was in tears. Mom brought me a light lunch, which my stomach told me to ignore. I laid back down, and eventually a dreamless sleep overtook me. This time, when I woke to another knock, the light of a mid-afternoon sun streamed through my blinds. Mom came in with a glass of ice-cold soda.

  “Are you awake, sweetie?”

  “Yes,” I croaked groggily.

  “You’re so lucky to have such great friends. Micah and James brought you a whole case of cream soda and well wishes. How sweet is that?”

  My eyes moistened with tears again. How sweet? Incredibly sweet, and the perfect cure for heartache caused by dumb dreams. Finally having something which didn’t immediately make me want to hurl, I drowned my hunger with the cool liquid before lying back down with a smile.

  Gone were the comparatively pleasant dreams where Micah rejected me, replaced with a grotesque nightmare of teachers at school dissecting him.

  “He’s such an anomaly, let’s see what makes him tick,” Doctor Abrams said.

  Mrs. Shepherd thanked me for luring him into the trap.

  My own scream woke me.

  Too troubled to sleep, I wrapped myself in a blanket and crashed on the couch, watching three chick flicks before Dad made me go back to my bedroom.

  “You’re sick, Tylwynn, you need to rest.”

  I’d slept all day, but lack of food made me too weak to argue. Everything my mother brought me continued to be offensive to my stomach, and anything I did manage to eat made its way back out soon after. The cream soda became my sole source of sustenance. Micah’s compassionate gift kept me alive. And my dreams killed him.

  More fragmented nightmares about Micah made for a restless night, followed by restless days, until my fever broke Thursday evening. I finally slept peacefully again. When I woke Friday morning, I felt almost normal, but Mom insisted I stay home from school all the same.

  “You’ve hardly eaten all week, dearie. Get up your strength this weekend and you can go back Monday. I called Fred and asked him to have Micah come by tomorrow to help you catch up on homework.”

  Finally! Yet my imagination only got to opening the door for Micah before I became aware of my greasy hair. And my stank. Gross.

  After taking a long, hot bath, I ate a big breakfast. It felt amazing to be clean and have a full stomach again. As much as I wished I could’ve gone to school, simply walking around the house exhausted me, and I took a long nap that afternoon. I dreamed of him again, but this time it was different. It was one of those dreams.

  A bright sun warmed me. A sweet, spicy scent danced on the breeze. Rain fell but touched nothing. Micah smiled and thanked me and James for always being there for him. James grunted. It sounded like a growl.

  I tried to look at my large friend but couldn’t find him. A massive black wolf stood next to Micah. I felt no fear of it. This was James, after all. My friend. My brother.

  An organ started playing. I scanned the seated audience. My parents sat next to Micah’s. A wedding. Micah’s wedding.

  A man with golden hair walked a veiled girl in an exquisite white dress down the aisle. Micah, in a white tuxedo, smiled as I’ve never seen him smile before. Joy. I shared that joy with him.

  Consciousness drew me away from the wedding, greeting me first with sweat-drenched clothes. Second, a tear-drenched pillow. I cried as lingering joy from the dream overwhelmed me. Joy. Joy? Joy?! How could a dream about Micah marrying someone other than me bring joy? An intense need to get back to the wedding and stop it from happening raged through me. But the vision faded.

  With a moan, I crawled out of bed and changed into dry clothes, doing my best to avoid looking at my desk, knowing I’d eventually give in.

  After grabbing a snack, I watched cartoons with Aedelin. Though nearly my age, she lived like a child. A few minutes later, Mom came in. “Tylwynn, dear, I’m so sorry. Fred texted back. He spoke to Micah, but he has plans for the weekend. He said he’d help you Sunday.”

  “That’s fine, Mom,” I said, doing my best not to sound whiny. Mom’s face made it clear I failed. I was too tired and weak to fool her.

  Aedelin’s eyes wandered around the room as if watching something. Then she said, “Liar,” and returned attention to her shows.

  After a few minutes of glaring at her without notice, I finally wandered back to my bedroom and opened the desk, retrieved my dream journal, then sat on the bed. Flipping past a couple dozen blank pages, I found the first entry.

  My journal contained a total of seven entries, each one giving a detailed description of a dream, along with the date. On the next page I drew a scene which best summarized it. None were particularly meaningful while reading them, but I remembered each one vividly.

  I didn’t understand why, but they stirred my soul. Something of inestimable value cried out to me from these words and images. These dreams mattered. I could never forget them, even if I wanted to.

  After the third time I recorded this sort of vision, I decided not to write it down. If I never forgot, why bother? A few weeks after the fourth dream, I realized I couldn’t remember when I had it. I became anxious. It seemed important. How could I let myself forget? As soon as I got home, I hurried and wrote it down but could only put a month and year on the date, having forgotten exactly what night it happened.

  It tore me up to admit this dream of Micah’s wedding struck me with the same intensity. I hated this dream! And yet it pulled on me with a need to record it. To study it. I never managed to get anything from the others, but then, they were so abstract. Other than James being a wolf, the details of the wedding might as well be real. Except Rachelle. Another agony pierced me. She wouldn’t see her son’s wedding.

  I shook the grief away. Despite the oddities, it was the most normal of the eight dreams.

  Could it be a warning? A glimpse into my inevitable future if I didn’t get up the courage to tell Micah how I felt? Or to give me hope following his rejection? If I could be so happy for him, did that mean I’d move on? Did it have any meaning at all? Was I crazy?

  I slapped the journal shut and threw it back inside the desk, not bothering to cover it before slamming the drawer closed. Stupid dreams. That’s all. Nothing more.

  Sleep didn’t come easily that night, but when it did, it mercifully stayed silent. I woke feeling like a person again. Barely. Showering, I dressed in my second cutest shirt and shorts, did my hair, then moped around the house. Micah said he couldn’t come by today, but I prepared in case his plans changed. For a while, I considered venturing out to find him or calling James to see if he wanted to hang out, but no matter how I tried to distract myself, an unseen force pulled at me. Relentless.

  Finally giving in, I locked myself in the bedroom and pulled out the notebook. Not quite ready to bring the wedding scene into inky reality, I focused on the last entry. As usual, when I started reading, the memory of it filled my head. The flower. The new bud. Eagle. Flames. Burning city.

  The trance broke. My finger quivered with a lingering sense of anticipation as I traced the image I’d drawn of the diving eagle, the flower’s pretty petals, the tiny bud opening, and the burning roots.

  Sighing, I turned to a new page and at last recorded my latest dream, hoping it turned out equally nonsensical, despite being almost normal. Then I drew a hastier than usual rendition of the wedding—hardly more than an outline. Same with the description. By the time I finished, I was as anxious to hide the journal as I’d been to write in it. I wanted nothing to do with the vision and loathed the joy brought by its memory.

  The rest of the day I sat on the couch while Aedelin giggled at her cartoons. I barely heard the TV. My gaze focused on the slit between the curtains and the walkway to our front door behind them. Hours passed. My neck hurt from being twisted the wrong way on the sofa. I sat until it grew too dark to see out the window.

  Did I eat? Yes, Mother brought me food. I went to bed early, knowing I’d want to be at my best tomorrow morning when I finally saw Micah again. This week stretched longer than the months he lived in Philadelphia.

  After another dreamless night, I woke up Sunday morning feeling normal again. Streams of sunlight poured through blinds in my window as I stretched. A beautiful day awaited. Day. Micah.

  Leaping out of bed, I moaned at the numbers on my phone. I slept wonderfully—more than twelve hours—but what about Micah?

  “Mom!” I called out as I ran into the hall.

  “Oh, sleeping beauty is finally awake,” Dad said from the kitchen.

  “Did Micah come by already?”

  “Yes, dear, I’m sorry I didn’t wake you,” Mom replied, overly sympathetic. “It was quite early, and you were sound asleep. You need your rest.”

  “Mom!” I moaned, hating the whine in my voice. Ugh! I knew her motherly instincts demanded she care for me, but she didn’t know how desperately I needed to see the real him after a week of nightmares.

  “That boy is so good, though, he left all his homework and notes from class. Said he’d come by this evening to help.”

  “Did he say where he was going?”

  “No, but they had their bikes.”

  They? I ducked back into my room, picked up my phone, and sent James a quick text. Grabbing some clean underwear and my cutest shorts and t-shirt, I refrained from texting again when he hadn’t responded by the time I climbed in the shower. It took all of my self-control not to shut off the water in the middle of washing my hair when the phone buzzed on the counter.

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  False alarm. Kelli called.

  “Ugh!” I glared at the phone before typing, “Getting on my bike. Where are you?” and sending it to James. I also sent Kelli a text. Maybe she’d seen the boys? Was she with them? Unlikely. Kelli lived around the corner from me but went to the county high school. She’d always been a good friend of mine but held some mysterious grudge against Micah and James I never figured out.

  My phone buzzed almost immediately. Kelli again.

  I used my week of sickness and resulting pile of homework to catch up on as an excuse to avoid the lake. A too true excuse. As much as I hated not knowing what James and Micah were up to, it was probably best James didn’t respond, or I would’ve set off trying to find them.

  Instead, I spent what remained of morning and most of the afternoon doing schoolwork. Micah’s notes were completely useless. While sweet of him to try, the boy was too smart for his own good. With notes so bare bones, half the time I wondered if they even covered the right subject. The obvious to Micah seemed a mystery to me. Thank goodness for the internet.

  Determination to be done before Micah showed up kept me focused despite my annoyance with James’ continued silence. When five came and went without a word, I sent yet another text letting him know I finished my homework and hoped to hang out today, and not just to see Micah. I needed some fun this weekend or I might actually die of boredom and cabin fever. When the phone buzzed a minute later, I practically squealed.

  Boys! Who didn’t feel well? What kept them so busy all day he couldn’t respond? I calmed myself before demanding details. Thirty minutes went by. Thirty. Minutes. Then he dropped this on me:

  Groaning, I threw my phone into the pillows and fell face-first onto the bed. Dead. My life. Over. Done. Why did the universe hate me so much?

  Dramatic much? Moaning, I rolled over and searched for my phone.

  I lost all desire to go anywhere. Maybe getting out of the house really was just an excuse to see Micah. Would I see him tomorrow? What if he got sick for a whole week like me? So unfair of life to keep dangling hopes in front of my face but always out of reach.

  “Dinner!” Aedelin yelled at the top of her lungs, standing in my bedroom doorway. She laughed and dodged the pillow I threw at her, then scampered away.

  Resigned to a boring night—and likely a boring week—I rolled off the bed and went to eat.

  Rain pelting our metal roof woke me the next morning, twenty-eight minutes before my alarm. With plenty of time to get to school early, I shuffled along as heavy drops pummeled my umbrella. The distant rumble of thunder announced the start of a downpour marathon.

  Every teacher murmured a welcome back and took my late work with a forced smile, catching my dour mood. Finally, I walked to first period: calculus. The world halted when I stepped through the doorway.

  With fifteen minutes until school started, two kids already sat at their desks. Lucy, as usual, gorgeous red hair wet from morning swim practice, as usual. Beside her, between her desk and mine, sat Micah.

  My heart skipped a beat. Not a dream. He actually existed, in my class, sitting next to my seat. Which also meant sitting next to Lucy. Every morning I wasted away in bed, they spent time alone here. Convulsions shattered my brain as my imagination exploded with scenes of the two chatting and smiling and flirting each day before class.

  I took a deep, silent breath to calm down. Only on B-days. There were only two B-days last week. Only two mornings to flirt and, well, at the moment, they didn’t even look at each other. Lucy read, as always. Micah flipped through his calculus book, probably checking ahead to see if it contained anything he didn’t already know. Silence.

  My stupid imagination made me panic for no reason. The two attractive people seemed oblivious of one another.

  My heart soared. Micah wasn’t charmed by Lucy after all!

  Or was he playing hard to get? Or avoiding coming on too strong, like Terrence?

  My heart tripped, hitting the dirt face-first.

  Bah! I forced myself to stop being dumb. He sat in my class, next to me. Not at home, sick, as I feared. I finally got to see and talk to him. What more could I want? Not like I expected him to propose to me. Yet.

  With that image came the memory of my dream. His wedding to some unknown girl. Grinding my teeth, I strolled nonchalantly as possible to my desk.

  “Hey, Wynn,” he said cautiously.

  I wanted to glare at him. Why wasn’t he as excited to see me as I was to see him? With a casual glance, I simply said, “Hey.” I wanted to leap into his lap and kiss him, but that would certainly fall into the category of coming on too strong.

  “Sorry I didn’t come by yesterday to help you with homework.” Classic Micah, assuming I needed his help.

  “It didn’t give me trouble.” A sharp edge tinged my voice. Why was I annoyed at him now? I should ask if he felt better. What did they do yesterday, anyway? “What were you and James up to?” The edge remained. Dumb James, spoiling my reunion. Dumb me, taking my anger at him out on Micah.

  “Oh, nothing special. Just hiking in the woods.” It sounded like an obvious lie, but before I could press him on it, I noticed Lucy silently shaking, biting back a laugh. I hoped her book amused her, and not this awkward conversation.

  I switched tracks, let go of my annoyance with James, and focused on my concern for Micah. “Are you feeling better? James said you went home sick.”

  He nodded but turned away. “Just some stomach thing. I went to bed extra early and had some crazy dreams but woke up feeling fine.”

  “Don’t eat forest mushrooms next time.”

  He laughed.

  I smiled at my favorite sound.

  “Maybe James slipped me some. They were pretty wild dreams.”

  Dreams. I did not want to talk about dreams. “Oh!” I leaned over and reached into my backpack. “Here. Your notes and homework.”

  He grimaced as I handed them back. “Sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “Turns out I’m awful at taking notes. I doubt they were helpful.” I loved how all that genius never went to his head like it did so many smart kids.

  Shrugging, I gave him a smile. “It’s the thought that counts.” I meant it. It was sweet of him to try. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but there’s this new thing called the internet.”

  He laughed.

  “Oh, and there’s also these fancy devices called phones. You should get one.”

  His laugh devolved into a grimace. “Dad won’t get one for me. Says I can have one when I buy it myself.” It’d been years since Fred made that rule and I hoped—considering recent events—he’d changed his mind. No such luck. “We’re starting our internships this week. That’ll make finding a job difficult.”

  I’d completely forgotten about the hospital internship! “Do you know—”

  “There she is!”

  Oily cringe automatically settled in my stomach as Terrence loudly entered the room. If the interruption annoyed Micah, he was too polite to show it, but I caught a hint of Lucy’s green eyes rolling.

  Pointing at me, the short boy continued, loudly, “Hope you’re feeling better, Wynn, because I’ve got big news for you.”

  “It’s Tylwynn,” I said, fully embracing the edge in my voice now.

  “Tylwynn,” he corrected without skipping a beat, “you and I are going to Homecoming.”

  “Excuse me?” My cheeks and gut blazed. Was he seriously telling me I was going with him, not asking, and in front of the boy I actually wanted to go with? Not a healthy combination of choices for Terrence’s long-term survival.

  “That is, assuming you aren’t so cruel you’d turn down a friend in serious need of a date?”

  What a little monster! I glanced at Micah, hoping he’d interject, but the boy retreated to his calculus book. Lucy, on the other hand, showed intense interest in the new conversation. She watched me with a raised eyebrow, reminding me of the first and only conversation we ever had. “Stay away from Terrence. Devious little snots like him are nothing but trouble.”

  Before I said anything, she spoke up. “Homecoming is more than a month away. How could you possibly be in such desperate need already? Every other girl in school shut you down?” Lucy’s voice sweetly spun through the air, but venom laced every word.

  “Ha!” Terrence rolled with the verbal blow gracefully. “Tylwynn is my first choice, of course.” He beamed at me.

  I desperately wanted to deflect that beam with my fist. For some reason, I preferred Terrence’s natural frown to his artificial grin.

  “Micah can vouch for me.”

  “What?” Voice drenched with confusion and pain, I put my heart on full display in that single word.

  Micah’s furrowed brow and frown sent tingles of electricity through my body. Did my outburst inadvertently make my feelings for him obvious? How would he respond? Would he come to my defense or flee? He simply stared at me while Terrence’s slimy smile grew wicked.

  “Yeah, I asked him if he was cool with it last week. I know you two are besties, so I wanted his approval.”

  Micah shrugged—shrugged!—then went back to his book.

  Lucy mimicked his response as if they practiced it.

  What did that mean? My heart and head scrambled over each other trying to interpret this ridiculous situation.

  “So, what do you say, Tylwynn?”

  Say?! I wanted to punch him! I should’ve given him a definitive “not happening” the first time we talked about this, but as I remembered that conversation, maybe he had a point. I could say yes and scrutinize Micah’s reaction, but I didn’t want anyone to think I gave in to the devious little snot’s demands.

  Mr. Tuttle and several students entering the room saved me.

  “I’ll think about it,” I hedged, watching Micah closely to see if he cared. He didn’t show any response. Playing it cool? He still frowned. That was a good sign, right? He might be jealous, but he didn’t look up from the textbook.

  “Let me know by Wednesday. A man’s got to make plans.”

  I nodded but turned away, trying to put that particular homecoming out of my mind.

  Micah’s own homecoming started out going downhill and didn’t seem about to change course anytime soon. I could barely pay attention, and though I caught up on the homework, I was woefully behind on the lessons. Dumb Terrence. Dumb Micah. Dumb Lucy. That wasn’t entirely fair. At least the goddess tried to help. Dumb me. I should’ve said no. I still could, but as I caught Micah’s eyes wandering to me from time to time throughout the period, I remembered Terrence’s words. “Worst case, you find out he’s an idiot and move on.”

  Micah was no idiot. But I might be. How long would I wait for him to like me while doing nothing about my own feelings for him? This was probably for the best. If I went with Terrence, it might make Micah jealous. If he liked me. Clearly, he had no intention of asking me himself, so what did I have to lose?

  When the bell rang, I moved methodically. My short time with him ruined, AP biology loomed ahead. It would be forever until I’d see him at lunch. Assuming he didn’t sit with Lucy. I might as well go home and never come back if he did.

  “Mind if I walk you to your next class?” Micah caught me completely off-guard as I stepped into the hallway. He smiled again, pale blue eyes shining through the dismal uncertainty oppressing my thoughts.

  Butterflies fluttered and my heart sped up, emotional rollercoaster threatening a heart attack! I managed a small shrug. “If you want,” I said, trying to hide my excitement.

  We walked silently through the hall as I scoured my brain for something to say. Now that I needed it, my imagination only offered shrugs. Glancing up, I found him staring at me.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what this time?” For not putting Terrence in his place? For not demanding I go with you to Homecoming? For years of loving me and never having the courage to say it? A girl could wish, but it quickly became clear I was projecting.

  “I feel bad I couldn’t come by this weekend and help with your homework.”

  Why did a dagger pierce my back every time he implied I needed help with homework? I was the one who anxiously awaited him every second all weekend. I was the one depressed he never showed up to help. Take the apology! Don’t admit you need help! Kiss him!

  As my pride and twitterpation warred, I said, “It’s fine. I’m just glad you didn’t end up sick too.” I noticed we stopped in front of the biology room. “How did you know my next class?”

  He shrugged. “A hunch?” An obvious lie. Did Micah get my schedule somehow? Duh. He must’ve to get my homework for me, but why not admit that? How could he be so considerate and so clueless at the same time?

  Rolling my eyes, I said, “Well, I’ll see you at lunch?”

  He nodded and said, “Under the tree. If the rain stops.”

  I turned quickly into the room to hide a blush. He planned to sit with me at lunch, not Lucy.

  Micah took a step in the room.

  I turned back to ask why, imagination blasting me with images of him embracing me while confessing he couldn’t stand to be away from me another minute, but he brushed past and headed for the far side of the class, sitting at a desk against the wall.

  My face must’ve given away my shock because the grin he shot my way claimed a victory. Forcing a glare, I frowned and sat, but my heart did cartwheels. First calculus, now biology, and I already knew he sat next to me in English, our fourth period. Maybe I could use that information to turn this little game around. One look at him, and I knew I wouldn’t.

  Micah silently laughed, and I gave up my charade. I let him keep his victory, returning the smile. A thousand times more handsome when happy, his face forced me to turn away as my heart stumbled, and a blush melted my cheeks.

  I’d go to the dumb dance with dumb Terrence. It wouldn’t change anything. My heart belonged to Micah for the rest of my life.