Chapter 6: Dreaming

A Chapter by Brooke

I arrived at my house around ten that night. My dad stood waiting, hands on his hips, in the front entrance as I walked in the door.

The first words out of his mouth were, "Where have you been? And why did you not tell me that you weren't going to be home for dinner? I waited to eat dinner with you because I haven't eaten dinner with you all week and your leaving tomorrow."

I took a deep breath and said slowly and calmly, "I'm sorry, Dad. I shouldn't have done that; I should have called you first. I'm sorry." I could tell right away that my dad had forgiven me. His face relaxed and his eyes lost that crinkly quality they sometimes get.

"Ok, thank you," he said, standing aside, as to let me pass into the family room. Walking past him, into the family room, and saw my suitcase sitting near the garage.

"What is this doing here?" I was totally bewildered; rarely did my dad do anything helpful for me. Shocked, my mouth hung open as I stared at him and waited for an answer.

"Well," he mumbled, embarrassed now because of my complete and utter shock, "I just thought, that maybe it was a bit heavy and that maybe you didn't want to carry it all the way up the stairs. So I took the liberty of taking them up for you." A blush the color of hot tamales crept up his neck and face. My face must have mirrored his because my whole face felt like it was on fire.

"Oh, well thank you, Dad. That was very nice of you to do for me," I said, with a failed attempt at a smile. He returned the strained smile with one of his own and walked up the stairs to his office. When the sounds of his footsteps on the spiral staircase disappeared I walked across the family room and into the little passageway between the kitchen and the family room. I walked down the stairs and into my bedroom. With great hast, I took off the summer dress I was wearing and replaced it with a pair of boxers and a big t-shirt. I pulled each layer of bedding away one at a time, first the comforter, then the fleece blanket, and finally the sheet. Nowadays, I only slept with the sheet and sometime the fleece blanket, because it was so hot, but tonight was oddly cold. So, as I crawled into bed I pulled all three layers over myself and closed my eyes.

It didn't take long for me to fall asleep, finals week had tired me out. The staying up till midnight ever night studying and the worry over if I did or did not do well on the finals, took alot out of me. When I did fall asleep my dreams were of that boy -- guy -- man -- person that I had had in my dreams at the beginning of the week.

The dream started with me in a small convenience store, sipping an Orange Crush; I was alone. I walked, soda in hand, around the cashier and his register. I was not surprised to find an arcade around the corner -- it was almost like I knew it was there, before I went there. But of course that was impossible, I had never been in this shop in my entire life. As I walked into the arcade, I looked down to find that I was wearing the same dress I had been planning to wear tomorrow, the green one with lilac stripes. Hmm, how interesting. Anyways, so I walked into the arcade and was pleased to find the sun-kissed, curly-haired boy that had been in my dream before. I was pleased because I could see him clearly now, the sun shining in the window that was the door. He was playing Pac Man on one of the machines closest to the entrance. I walked right up to the side of him and softly greeted him.

"Hey," the words slipped from my mouth before I could stop them. What was I doing, talking to a person that I didn't know, whether it been in a dream or not? He looked up at me and smiled briefly and turned back to his game. But just that small smile, not even a second long was amazing. His teeth were perfectly straight, and as white as marshmallows. He pulled his mouth into a smile that was neither crooked nor perfect. It was quite adorable. I sat there watching him watching him play Pac Man, nothing else, just watched him win level after level after level, until he finally lost. When he did, finally lose, he turned to me and set his mouth in position that indicated that he was either going to say something that started with a B or a P. I tensed, ready to hear his voice again, but I never heard what he said. No, sadly, just as he was starting to talk my dream changed -- abruptly; all of a sudden.

I was so confused, there I was one second in that corner store waiting for him to say that b- or p- word, then I was tossed into yet another dream. Not that I had any control over this, but I felt my body was punishing me for something. But before I could even start the next dream start.

I was lying on my bed starring at the ceiling when I heard a knock on my door, I sat up, my legs dangling off the side the bed and twisted my torso around so I could see whoever was knocking and not my now empty closet. It turns out there were two people coming to see me -- Scott and Michael.

"Oh, hi. Scott. Michael," I greeted them. They each nodded and Scott stepped into the room, while Michael remained in the hall. My neck was starting to hurt so I turned my head back, toward my closet. I left the bed go down slightly on the right side, as Scott sat next to me. The bed moved as he laid back against it. I leaned back too, so I was laying next to Scott, both of our legs hanging over the side of the bed. I twisted over sideways, so I was facing Scott, into a fetal position. Scott did the same. We both sat there, staring at each other, and before I could say anything to him, his lips were on mine. And I forgot about Michael. I forgot about everything -- the only thing that mattered were the lips on my own. And they were everywhere, and yet nowhere at the same time. I was overwhelmed -- and at the same time couldn't get enough of him. I don't know how long we were there, kissing like their was no tomorrow, but it felt like only seconds before Michael came and tore Scott from under my lips.

"What are you doing," both boys screamed at the same moment. They stared each other down for what felt like hours. Each looking at each other with some much hostility, I could barely bare to watch. As the starring continued, my eyes traveled back and forth between the two. Resting on each person's face for a second or two, before moving them to the other. Finally, I had had enough.

"Stop," I screamed, "stop right now!" Both, slowly turned their faces to look at me, keeping an eye on the other until, finally, both gazes locked on my own. Even though I knew the expressions each of them wore was for the other, I couldn't help but feel like the arrows of hatred shooting out of both of their eyes were for me.The words that I had been about to say were lost somewhere in my throat; I couldn't find the voice to speak. Both boys were starring at me, each turning slightly inpatient as the seconds ticked by that I didn't say anything. How could I tell them that I couldn't seem to talk? That I knew exactly what I wanted to tell them, but couldn't. How?

I opened my mouth, hoping that I might be able to talk if I gave an effort, and I think I may have been able to -- talk that is -- but at that exact second I woke up.

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