Fated Dreams (Book One In The Affinity series) (6 page)

I woke up screaming, to the feeling of
someone rubbing my back. “It’s okay, Sarah, it’s only a dream.” It was my
mother, speaking to me in gentle tones. She held me until I calmed down. Her
warm embrace used to soothe me when I was a child, but this wasn’t a scraped
knee or a failed grade. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what was going on. I just knew
she couldn’t help me.

When the
tremors that had overtaken me subsided, I pulled away. “I’m fine now, Mom.”

Her narrowed
eyes and raised eyebrow told me that she didn’t believe me. “Are you sure? I
could hear you screaming from the kitchen, I just got home. What were you
dreaming about?”

The idea of
repeating the horrible nightmare made my chest ache. However, saying the words
out loud might diminish the fear that was creeping inside, and that was the
only reason I took a deep breath and began my tale. “It was weird, I was
dreaming of a guy from school who I hardly know. He’s been in my mind most
nights for the last few weeks, and I don’t know why. Tonight it was the same
one I’ve had before, but this time he was killed and died in my arms. It felt
so real.” I was wrong—saying the words didn’t help. My heart sped up as I
pictured Lucas’ dead eyes and pale white face.

My mom looked
sympathetic. “Oh honey, that’s awful, but you know it was just a dream, right?”
She touched my cheek lovingly, and again her soft touch did nothing to ease my
mind. “Who was it?”

I pulled away
from her. “I’d rather not say. What time is it anyway?”

“Midnight. You
have the rest of the night to have happy dreams.” She smiled, obviously trying
to cheer me up. I returned the smile so she’d think she had helped. I didn’t
feel any better, but she didn’t have to know that.

“Thanks, Mom.
I’m much better now.”

“I’m glad,
honey. Good night.” She kissed my cheek and turned out the light as she closed
the door behind her.

Still feeling a
little anxious, I picked up my book, turned the light back on, and read for a
while.

My sudden
exhaustion overpowered my uneasiness. I put the book away and lay down, hoping
I could get back to sleep. Closing my eyes, I hoped for blackness. Instead, I
saw Lucas’ lifeless eyes staring at me; I could even feel the stem of the rose
in my hand. I tried to think of something cheery to help get rid of the vision
in my mind, but nothing worked. I sighed heavily, turned over, and stared at my
CD collection, silently counting the titles.

I must have finally fallen asleep, because
the next thing I knew, my mom was knocking on the door, telling me to get up
for school.

I sat up in
bed, feeling like crap. I didn’t know what time it was when I finally fell
asleep, but the last time I remember looking at the clock, it was three a.m. So
needless to say, I was tired, and I felt troubled about the dream.

I stood in the
shower with the hot water pouring over me. The water splashing on my face woke
me up a bit, but I felt weak from lack of sleep.

When I finished
washing my body, I climbed out of the shower. I wiped the steam from the mirror
with my hand and stared at my reflection. The face in the glass looked hollow
and pale, with dark circles under the eyes. I didn’t recognize this girl; it
would take more than makeup to fix my face this morning. All I wanted to do was
to climb back under my soft, welcoming blankets.

The image of a
wilted rose entered my mind, stopping that urge. Brushing and drying my hair
was a challenge for my weak arms. I finished getting dressed, hardly noticing
what clothes I chose, or if they even matched, and only applied the bare
minimum of makeup before heading downstairs.

“Sarah, you
better hurry up, I’m leaving, and you’re going to—” My mom stopped mid-sentence
when she saw me. She was wearing a black skirt and matching jacket, and her
hair was pulled back in a twist. She tucked a loose hair behind her ear as she
assessed my appearance. “You look awful honey, are you sick?”

I felt awful.
“No, just tired.”

She didn’t look
convinced. “If you want to stay home, you can.”

My stomach
dropped. “No!” I yelled. Fear clawed at my chest at the thought of staying
home. She backed up, surprised as much as I was at my reaction. “I…mean no. I
have to go to school, I…I’m fine,” I stammered, wondering why I had acted so
frightened at the idea of staying home.

She glanced at
her watch. “I have to go, or I’ll be late. If you change your mind about
staying home, let me know. Alex left with a friend already. I’ll see you
later.” She said all that as she was running for her car. I really didn’t feel
like going to school, but for some reason I needed to be there.

Walking to my car twenty minutes later, I
noticed the weather reflected how I felt. It was overcast and chilly. There was
no rain, but a wet mist hovered in the air—so much for a sunny day to help
cheer me up. I hugged myself, pulling my leather coat closer to keep the chill
away.

When I arrived
at school, the anxious feeling I woke up with still lingered. I climbed out of
my car, walking slowly into the building and then to my locker, all the while
scanning the crowded halls for a familiar head of brown shaggy hair.

In music class
the whole group practiced Miss Fitzgerald’s original piece. I made a few
mistakes, which was frustrating because only yesterday I had it down perfectly.
When class was dismissed, Miss Fitzgerald called me to her desk as the rest of
the kids filed out to go to lunch.

I stood
silently in front of her, waiting for her to speak as she stuffed papers into a
drawer. She finally closed it and glanced up at me. “Are you feeling all right,
Sarah? You look a little pale.”

“I’m tired,
that’s all. I’ll do better tomorrow,” I said apologetically.

She scoffed.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I know you can do it; I’m just concerned for you. Why
don’t you go home if you’re not feeling well?”

I panicked.
“I’m fine, the day’s already half over, I’ll be okay. Is that all?” I was
hoping to leave before she insisted I go home. For some reason, the thought of
leaving filled me with dread.

“Well, if you
change your mind, don’t worry about your school work, just go. You can catch up
later.”

“Thanks, Miss
Fitzgerald. See you tomorrow.” I rushed out of the classroom before she could
change her mind. It wasn’t my schoolwork keeping me here; it was something
else. I just didn’t know what that was.

At lunch, my
friends kept telling me how bad I looked and that I should go home. I was
getting tried of hearing it.

In history
class, I looked over to where Lucas sat, but his chair was empty. Alarm bells
went off inside my head. Where was he? Mr. Henderson came in and started his
lesson. I glanced at Emma and whispered, “Where’s Lucas?”

“I heard he was
sick, why do you want to know?” she smirked. I wasn’t in the mood for teasing.

“Just curious,”
I said, looking straight ahead at the chalkboard.

At home after school, I felt restless. And
nothing seemed to soothe me. Doing homework or reading didn’t interest me. I
thought music would help, but when I put my new CD on, it just made me feel
jumpy. There was only one thing that usually helped soothe my nerves when I
felt this way. So I headed to the basement rec room. If it didn’t work, nothing
could.

I sat down on
the stool and placed my hands on the piano keys, They were cold and bumpy
against my palm when I swept my hand over them. A loud tinkle of notes erupted
in the small room, echoing like an explosion of bells in an empty church. I
closed my eyes to listen. There was nothing I enjoyed more than the sound of a
piano in perfect tune.

I played my
favorite song, trying to lose myself in the music. Next I played the new piece
for music class. Screwing up on the ending, I decided today wasn’t the day to
practice. I was too preoccupied with playing the dream over and over in my
head, and since the song was new to me, playing it on instinct proved
difficult. I couldn’t shake this uneasy feeling, so I gave up trying.

Back in my room, I lay on my bed, staring
up at the dirt splotch looking for answers. I wished I had Lucas’ phone number.
I needed to know that he was all right. That was my problem all day; after my
dream last night I had to see him. That’s why I needed to go to school, and why
I was anxious all morning, waiting to see him at lunch. When he wasn’t there, I
thought for sure he would be in history class. After he didn’t show up, I
panicked, feeling like a scared cat with its claws out clinging to a screen
door for dear life. Only for me when I couldn’t find him, I had nothing to
cling to.

Should I call
him? Yeah, right, what was I supposed to say? I only had a couple of
conversations with the guy, and I didn’t think we were at the calling stage.
What would I even say? “Oh Lucas, I’m just calling to make sure you’re not
dead. See you at school.” Yeah, right, I’m not crazy. Or I could go with, “I’ve
been dreaming of you and in the last one I had, you died in my arms. It freaked
me out, so I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” Yeah, sign me up for a
straightjacket. I just needed sleep, I thought, then I’d calm down. I closed my
eyes and waited to fall under. It didn’t work. Instead, Lucas’ vacant eyes
looked back at me.

I lay there
until my mom called me for supper.

Sitting in my chair at the table, I picked
at my food. I didn’t have much of an appetite, but I ate the macaroni casserole
my mom made, not really tasting it, while the conversation went on around me.

“You’re quiet,
Sarah. Is there something wrong?” my dad asked between bites.

“Yeah, I’m
tired, and I don’t really feel like talking.” I gulped the last bite and shoved
away from the table. “I’m finished eating. I’m going to go back to my room if
that’s all right?”

My mom and dad
exchanged questioning glances, and then my mom answered, “Sure, honey.”

I was putting
my dishes in the dishwasher when the phone rang.

“Sarah, could
you get that?” my mom shouted from the dining room.

“Sure,” I said,
grabbing the phone off of the end table. “Hello.”

“Is Sarah
home?” a deep voice asked.

“This is
Sarah.”

“Oh hi, it’s
Lucas. Is it okay that I’m calling?”

Relief washed
over me like a tidal wave. “Yeah, sure.” I headed upstairs to my room, taking
the phone with me. In the kitchen, I could hear my mom and dad arguing with
Alex about something. I really didn’t care. I had my own problems.

I fell onto my
bed, my weight making the pillows bounce. “What’s up?”

“I was sick
today, and I don’t want to get behind in class, so I was wondering if I could
borrow your notes. You’re the only one I’ve spoken to in history. If you don’t
want to lend them to me, I could ask Mr. Henderson.”

I smiled to
myself. That’s what happens when you only talk to a few people in school. You
might feel a little weird asking someone you don’t know for a favor. “Sure, no
problem, there wasn’t much today anyway. If you want, I could give them to you
at lunch, it shouldn’t take you long to copy them.”

“Sounds good.
If you could bring them to the cafeteria, I’ll pick them up and copy them while
I eat.”

“All right. So
you’re feeling better then?” I asked, playing with the zipper from the hoodie I
was wearing.

“Yeah, I think
it was a twenty-four-hour thing. It started yesterday at work, and I had to go
home. I guess my manager didn’t like the idea of my throwing up on the
customers.”

“Well, it’s not
very good customer service.”

He laughed.
“When do you work next?”

It sounded like
he was trying to make conversation. “I work Wednesday and Saturday, same shift
as last week, you?”

“I have to work
Thursday night and Saturday until five. I hate working Saturday nights, so I
always work the day shift. I’m in good with the owners, so it works out.”

“Who owns it?”

“My parents.”

“Oh, I feel
stupid. You know, I didn’t even notice the name when my mom took me there last
week.”

“Sabour. It’s
my mom’s maiden name.”

“That’s a cool
name. I should probably get off the phone though. I still have to do my
homework, unlike some people.”

“Yeah, I’ll
just have to do double tomorrow. I’ll see you at school. Have a good night,
Sarah.”

“You too,
Lucas.” I hung up in a much better mood.

It took me the
rest of the night to finish my homework and afterward I went to bed early.
Because of my restless night I could barely keep my eyes open.

As I shut the door to my car the next
morning in the school parking lot, Emma came up beside me. “You look much
better today.”

I smiled. “I
feel much better too. I was just tired and cranky; I didn’t sleep well the
night before.” We came up to the front doors and walked right through; Jeff
Lewis held it open, winking at Emma.