by S. Young
That made her laugh. She could just imagine how much torture that had been. She smiled sympathetically and watched his eyes brighten.
“God, you are so special, you have no idea.” Nick shook his head.
Uh oh. Ari felt her stomach roil. She did not want to do this again. “Nick—”
“No, don’t.” He held up a hand to interrupt to her. “I know you just want to be friends, Ari. I do. And I know it’s because of Creagh. So fine. Let’s be friends. Let’s hang out this summer?”
Blushing, Ari looked at the floor, unable to meet his eyes as she replied, “You don’t look at me like you want to be just friends, Nick.”
“That’s because I don’t. I want more.”
“Then we shouldn’t hang out. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“I know where you stand. I do. I can be friends with you without making you uncomfortable. Just… give me a chance. Please?”
Feeling bad, Ari grimaced. “Nick, I want to hang out with you this summer, but I can’t if you keep saying things like ‘I want more’.”
He laughed and pushed away from the counter. “Okay. I won’t. I swear.”
“Do you know how many girls would kill for you to say that to them? You should be in that living room, talking to one of them.”
He shook his head. “I want someone special. I’ll wait for her. And while I’m waiting, I want to hang out with my friend Ari.”
Flattered, despite it all, that he thought her so special, Ari stood up, pulling a fresh beer out of the refrigerator for him. “Come on,” she said, clinking their bottles together. “Let’s go get that Playstation turned back on.”
Nick and A.J. kept her mind off Charlie for the rest of the night with their antics. She laughed a lot with them, letting her worries disappear, as she spent one last night with all the kids she’d hung out with at high school for the last few years. The genie mysteriously disappeared an hour after his arrival, an hour before his booked time. Rachel was pissed because she’d paid to have him there for the two hours. Somehow, Staci talked her down. Personally, Ari was glad he had left. The guy gave her the creeps and as for the thing she’d wished for, she didn’t even want to think about that.
For a moment, when A.J. wasn’t cracking a joke, Charlie and the girl upstairs crossed her mind and the breath whooshed out of her body. So distracted by her emotions, she even let Nick put his arm around her shoulders as they all hung out. The party played out around her in a blur of movement and color. Words were spoken, hands touched, lips kissed a cheek. But none of it meant anything to her. She let it happen, glad for the distance between her mind and it.
It was late when people left. Rachel and Staci wanted to stay behind to clean up, but Ari just wanted everyone out. Maybe she was more like her dad than she thought, because all she wanted now was to be alone. She wanted silence. It took a lot of energy, and some pleading with Nick, but between the two of them, they persuaded Rache and Staci to leave. She hugged her friends as they stepped out into the cool night air and watched them throw themselves into the back seat of Staci’s dad’s car. God, she hoped they didn’t throw up. She shut the door.
Alone. At last.
Ari turned the lock on the door and strolled slowly to her living room. Paper cups, streamers, and wrapping paper littered every available space. Her gifts were scattered all over, some of them already broken. Drink spilled onto furniture, food crunched into the floor. Just the thought of cleaning it up exhausted her.
“I’ll do it in the morning,” she mumbled, turning for the stairs.
The strange events of the day buzzed in the background of her mind and echoed in raw pain in her chest, but exhaustion won out. Kicking off her shoes, Ari climbed into her huge bed with her jeans still on and collapsed against her pillow, sinking into the cold mattress.
Her eyes were just closing when she heard the creak of her door. Her heart spluttered and she looked up, squinting in the dark. “Ms. Maggie?” she whispered, watching as the dark shape of a person appeared in the doorway. “Who’s there?” She scrambled up into a sitting position, her heart pounding. An image of the creepy genie guy Rabir flashed across her eyes and she tried in her panic to remember where she’d put her baseball bat.
“Ari,” a familiar deep voice croaked and her eyes widened as the shape formed in the dark, moving closer to her bed.
“Charlie?”
He gazed down at her, his hair all over the place, his clothes in desperate need of an iron. Ari felt the ache in her chest spread when she took in the haunted look in his eyes. They glimmered with unshed tears, blazing with the agony of his grief. Ari felt the choking sensation in her throat and tried to breathe through it. Somehow, everything that had happened until that point disappeared and all Ari saw was the boy she loved, needing her. Silently, she moved over to make room for him, watching quietly as he climbed onto the bed and stretched out beside her. Charlie rested against the pillow and he turned on his side to meet her eyes. A tear slid down his cheek. He made a rough choking sound and his body shuddered with wracking sobs. Without making a sound, Ari slipped her hand across the comforter to grasp his. She felt his fingers curl around hers, squeezing tight. It was only when the sounds of his deep sobbing quieted and the echoes of them finally faded that Ari relaxed. She studied his chest as it stopped shuddering, easing in and out slowly as he slept. Assured slumber had momentarily eased his grief, Ari finally closed her eyes, letting her conscious do the same for her. Their hands anchored one to the other.
Chapter 6
Wishes are for dreamers
I’m not a dreamer
“Charlie, stop it,” she mumbled, refusing to open her eyes. She was so tired. The tingling in her hand, the one that Charlie still clasped in his sleep, grew sharper until the uncomfortable numbness of it accelerated into acute pain. “Charlie.” Ari tugged her hand from his and opened her eyes. Shifting her head on her pillow, she realized her best friend was still sleeping. Ari flexed her hand, willing the needle-like pain away, but it swam up her arm, nipping at muscle and agitating blood. She hissed, reaching out to clasp the arm with her other hand. A slight panic built as the pain escalated into her other arm.
“What the…” she trembled now, pushing herself up into a sitting position. “Charlie,” she whispered, wanting to wake him up but reluctant to unearth him from his peaceful sleep when he so clearly needed it.
The tingling started in her feet.
Her heart banged in her chest.
Cold sweat broke out under her arms.
What the hell was going on?
As the pain grew steadily worse, Ari knew she needed to wake Charlie. Something was seriously wrong with her. Holding in her panic, she reached over to shake him awake and bit back a scream.
Her hand.
Her hand was gone!
Ari watched in horror as the limb disappeared, like some invisible mouse had come along and was photoshopping her body out of the picture.
The organ in her chest slammed so hard and so fast, Ari was sure it was going to explode. “Charlie,” she squeaked as the fading sped up around her body. “Char—”
Her body was no longer cushioned by the soft comforter and mattress on her bed. Cold seeped into her bones, blanketed by a hard surface that may as well have been a slab of Antarctic ice.
Had she fallen out of bed?
A sharp memory of her limbs disappearing before her very eyes flashed across her closed eyelids and Ari lifted an arm, patting her chest where her heart still raced.
It had been a dream.
Just a dream.
Thank the ever loving gods.
Groaning, Ari shifted her head and her neck complained with a crick, her hair sliding across a slippery surface.
What the…?
Okay. I am definitely not in my bed.
Afraid to open her eyes, Ari took a minute, breathing slowly in and out, trying to calm her heartbeat, a heartbeat that raced so hard she was close to throwing up. Another
shock of icy chill slithered up and along her body from the floor. Ari’s eyes popped open.
Her chest tightened, feeling the familiar symptoms of an oncoming anxiety attack. Letting go of a shaky breath, Ari pushed herself up, glancing down at the cold mirrored floor beneath her. Her shadowy reflection, mottled by the artistic bubbling of the mirror, flickered back at her like a stranger. Patting herself down as she drew to her feet, ignoring the bout of dizziness determined to lay her flat out on the floor, Ari realized she was wearing the same clothes she’d worn at the party. Raising her head, she took in her alien surroundings and tried to rationalize, tried to stay calm. She was dreaming. Clearly, she was dreaming.
She pinched herself and winced in pain.
“Doesn’t mean anything,” she whispered, staring at the stone walls that glittered and sparkled in the candlelight. She peered closer. The twinkling flash of color here and there attributed to the small precious stones inset into the walls. They looked like emeralds. “I’m just dreaming.” She nodded. “People have really vivid dreams like this. I’ve read about it. Maybe someone spiked my drink at the party and I’m on some kind of ‘trip’.” She exhaled heavily, glancing over the huge four-poster bed with its billowing silk canopy of fiery colors. There was no comforter on the bed, which surprised her considering how cold the air in here was, but there was a decorative velvet blanket placed perfectly across the bottom, and millions of jewel-toned silk cushions scattered all over. The bed was the only splash of color in the entire place. The sparse furniture was as chilly as the atmosphere, cut and shaped from what looked like glass. “Must have been some drug,” she murmured, confused by the lack of electricity in the room. There wasn’t even a light switch.
So… what did one do on a drug trip? She glanced around. There was no one else here to entertain her. No TV, no laptop, no music—
Oh.
A purple vase on the nightstand drew her attention. Heat seemed to radiate from it, making the vase appear as if it were pulsing with life. Intrigued, Ari moved tentatively toward it. The chilly mirrored floor nipped at her bare feet. As she moved, the air cut around her and this musky, exotic scent tickled her olfactory senses, the floral headiness of it somehow familiar. It smelled like jasmine.
So she was dreaming in 4K UHD with a scratch & sniff attachment. Meant nothing. “This is just a dream,” she whispered, reaching a hand out to the vase, sighing at the rush of heat that clambered happily up her arm when she placed her fingertips against the thick glass. Ari squinted. It really was unlike any vase she’d ever seen before; solid purple with a round fat bottom and a long thin flute of a neck. It reminded her of a genie’s bottle.
Genie.
“No.” Ari shook her head, stepping back. Creepy genie guy didn’t do this. It was a dream. Just a dream. In fact, she was probably dreaming about this crap because of creepy genie guy. Rachel was going to pay for that little surprise. A gimmick genie at an eighteenth birthday party… what had she been thinking? And not just any genie. Hot genie. With evil, soulless eyes. Rachel was such a pa—
What was that?
Ari pricked her ears, straining to hear it again.
There it is!
Heart pounding, she turned, almost slipping on the floor in her hurry to follow the sound of voices. Voices calling in the distance. Ari raced across the room toward a door buried deep in the shadows. Wooden and medieval in appearance, Ari wondered what the hell she’d been watching or reading in the last few days to make her dream this stuff up. Grasping the iron handle that looked more like a door knocker than a knob, Ari pulled the wooden door inward and gasped at the blast of cold air that sliced across her skin.
Her chest tightened. “Okay. That was pretty real for a dream.”
Eyes watering from the sudden rush of oxygen, Ari blinked and tentatively stepped outside. Her feet were stiff and numb from the cold and the black flagstones beneath them weren’t helping wake them up. As her eyes stopped tearing, she took in the long stretch of flagstones before her. She was on some kind of huge balcony. The roof arched above her in stunning architecture, swirls and patterns carved into the stone, perhaps Middle Eastern in design. The roof curved down to a halt on her right side, held up by carved columns interspersed evenly along a waist-high wall. Ari drank in the colorful mosaic on the inside of the wall, mosaics depicting people and actions, almost like they told a story. They reminded her of the ancient architectural reliefs her history teacher showed them. She followed the picture of a man on fire as his head reached the top of the wall and she looked out and over.
“Holy crap…” she gasped, stepping forward unconsciously. Beyond her perch on the balcony of this insanely amazing building, Ari took in the towering stone mountains that surrounded her, mountains that winked green under a winter sun. She squinted, trying to work out the flash and spark, and realized the mountains comprised the same stone and green gems as the walls of the room she’d been in. “Amazing.” Built into the mountains were elaborate homes that reminded Ari of the pictures she’d seen of Morocco, architecture that favored curves and color and arabesques. The homes grew steadily more modest the farther they were located down a spiral into a valley hidden by a sea of foggy clouds. Ari’s eyes widened as she saw people in the distance, walking casually along rough-hewn paths teetering on the edges of the mountains. Just the thought of traversing those roads terrified the hell out of her. The voices she heard appeared to have been these colorful figures, who strolled back and forth, descending up and out of the fog in brightly colored, loose fitting robes and pants. In this weather? She shivered again, rubbing the goosebumps from her arms.
They’re not real, Ari. Figment meet Imagination.
“Right,” she whispered. “I’m dreaming.”
Just a dream.
Ari’s whole body froze. Her muscles tensed, her shoulders hunched to her ears, her ears pricked up, her heartbeat did its best to drown out her hearing by rushing her blood around her body super-fast. It was the reaction someone might have to the sound of a thief breaking into their house at night.
But Ari wasn’t reacting to a burglar. She reacted to the low, deadly growl that rumbled from somewhere over her shoulder. She gulped. Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream. Slowly, hands trembling, Ari turned, placing one foot carefully after the other. Her eyes widened as she turned full circle and faced—
“Holy mother of crap.”
The thing before her… oh god, oh god, what is it, what is it?!
The growling grew deeper and louder as she backed away slowly toward the room she’d just exited and bile rose as the thing took an awkward, unbalanced step toward her.
You are so seriously messed up if you can dream this kind of stuff, Ari!
The monster—for that’s what it was—snarled. As far as Ari could tell, its mulch-shaped head was really only half of a face. It had one eye, dark and lidless with thick, pulsing red veins flowing out from under its mud-colored skin, skin that crinkled like paper when it moved. It had no nose cartilage, no bone structure, just a hole in the middle of its half-face that grew bigger and then smaller as it breathed its fury at her presence. As for the thing’s mouth… oh boy.
“Just a dream, just a dream,” Ari chanted, backing all the way into the room now, her knees threatening to buckle in terror as it followed her, predatory, saliva dripping between its black gums and razor-sharp teeth. Its lack of a left arm and lack of a right leg only increased the ugly horror of the creature. The monster’s twisted, malformed body slithered toward her, somehow balanced despite its deformities. Its long, blackened claws clacked and scraped harshly in a high whine against the mirrored floors as it continued to back her into a corner.
Feeling faint and nauseous, Ari stopped, struggling to draw breath.
“It isn’t real.” She shook her head, trying to still her body. “It’s okay.” She exhaled, opening her eyes to stare the creature down. “Just let it happen. It’ll attack and you’ll wake up. That’s what happens in dre—” She cut o
ff into a silent scream as the monster launched into the air toward her, its mouth open wide. Ari threw her hands up to cover her face, closing her eyes tight and waiting for her subconscious to rip her out of the nightmare. Instead, she felt the impact of it hit, her body slamming to the floor with a painful thud that knocked the breath right out of her. Her head smacked against the mirrored floor, eliciting eye-watering pain. A sharp streak of light shot across her eyes and then she felt wet heat clampdown on her forearm.
Agony ricocheted through her as the monster’s teeth tore through her flesh. She screamed, her eyes rolling back in her head as a wave of nausea swept over her.
“Vadit. Heel,” a deep, male voice commanded quietly and Ari felt the heat of the monster disappear. Air flowed across her wounds agitating the pain, and she felt the warm blood slip down her arm at too fast a current.
“It’s not real,” she whispered, tears leaking out from her closed eyes. It’s too real. She shook, gulping back panic, shuddering with the shock. Her chest tightened. I’m going to die, I’m going to die.
“Ari,” a hard voice whispered in her ear, and she felt the heat of someone bending over her. “Child, open your eyes.”
Dad? The thought of the familiar, of having someone here on her side in a dream world she couldn’t awaken from, eased the tightness in her chest and her heart slowed. Despite her pain, the overwhelming belief that she was going to die dissipated and she pried her eyes open. “D-d-d-dad?” she stammered through the shock.
But it wasn’t Derek who kneeled beside her in dark trousers hand-sewn to his body, his muscled chest bare beneath his rich voluminous robes. The man was enormous, perhaps in his mid-thirties, his dark face chiseled like granite. Ari’s heart clenched at the sight of this mammoth man and not because he was a stranger, but because of his bleak black eyes that blazed down on her without feeling.
They were empty.