Colliding Skies

by Debbie Zaken

  “I wish I could show you my home. But we would need something much more powerful than that.” He pointed his head to the large telescope behind us.

  I turned to face him. “Wait. If this is a dream, then why can’t I just dream up some supersonic telescope and imagine your planet?”

  He grinned, making that small dimple in his chin appear. Him, it seemed, my mind knew how to conjure well. “Good question. Maybe you need to improve your imagination.”

  I laughed. “If my imagination becomes any better, I’m going to have to check myself into the mental ward.” I was already pushing the limits of this dream-dating thing. Not to mention the paranoia. Or was it paranoia?

  “Ethan, I need to ask you a question.” I let out a breath, fully aware that what I was about to do was the very definition of insanity. The Ethan sitting next to me was a figment of my imagination. “Are you following me? Sometimes, I swear you’re there, watching.”

  Ethan tilted his head to the side, pausing before answering. “Maybe we have both found ways to see each other. The only ways we will ever see each other.”

  I chewed on the tip of my index finger, mulling over his words for a second. “These dreams…will they just disappear one day?”

  “They are your dreams, Skye. My theory is that they will stop when you want them to.”

  I leaned in closer. “And what if I don’t want them to stop? What if I want them to be real?”

  He paused, his gaze catching mine. His jaw tightened and he shook his head. “This is the only place we can be together. The only place you are safe, and the only place I can do this.”

  He cupped my face, caressing my cheek with his thumb. I took a sharp intake of breath, closed my eyes and waited to feel the touch of his lips.

  What I felt was pain when my back hit the hardwood floor of my room, and the momentary shock of realizing I had fallen out of bed.

  “What the heck?” I rubbed the small of my back, followed by my head, which drummed as hard as my heart.

  The dreams always ended the same. Just as Ethan was about to kiss me, some force always pulled me back, startling me awake. With my heart thrumming, the guilt from semi-dream-cheating on Taylor settling into my stomach, and a splitting headache, I could never fall back asleep.

  And while I dream-dated Ethan at night, during the day, the feeling of being watched grew worse over time. I walked around school trapped in my own little dream world, constantly looking over my shoulder, searching for the owner of the eyes that followed me—the eyes I wanted to believe were lightning blue. I was embracing the crazy. But I wasn’t so out of it that I couldn’t see how worried Emily and Taylor were over my strange behavior.

  “What’s going on with you?” Emily asked on Friday afternoon as we walked out of AP English.

  “That’s like the tenth time you’ve asked me that question today. I told you, I’m fine.” I clutched my books to my chest.

  “No, you’re not. Have you looked at yourself lately? Because you don’t look fine.” Emily perused my messy state, from my sloppy ponytail, to my make-upless face, down to my worn-down Dr. Who t-shirt and sweats.

  Yes, I looked like the Queen of the Damned on a bad day. Not to mention my bad mood caused by too many sleepless nights. I set my mouth in a tight line and kept walking. She followed, her face taking on a worried countenance. “What’s going on with you and Taylor? You two are barely talking.”

  “Nothing. We’re fine.”

  I hated lying to her, but I was scared. Just because I’d embraced the crazy didn’t mean she would… or could. I hated lying to Taylor, too. The guilt from unfaithful dreams was starting to eat away at me. He’d tried to pull me out of my funk on the way to school that morning until I’d snapped at him. I just didn’t know how many times I could say I was fine, and it was getting harder to pretend.

  He hadn’t really talked to me since then. A growing rift was wedging its way between us. The looks he shot my way held more than concern. His frustration would appear briefly before it dissolved under a stolid face.

  Emily came to a halt, her gaze zeroing in on my face. “Skye, spill it. I know something’s wrong.”

  I stared at her, wanting so badly to tell her everything. I wasn’t used to keeping secrets from her and it would be a relief to verbalize it all. But what was I going to say?

  Yeah, I think I’m going crazy because I’m sure I’m being followed by someone who, I guess, is invisible. I have vivid hallucinations of flying, but at least the terrifying nightmares of plunging to my death have stopped. Oh, and did I tell you I’m dream-dating one of those beautiful aliens, who I think I’m falling for? But see in real life, he’s not all that into me, so technically, I’m not really cheating on Taylor. So what do you think, Em? Is your BFF certifiably cray-cray or what?

  I forced a smile. “Emily, don’t you have to go help Lucas set up for the party?”

  She huffed and folded her arms over her chest. “Fine, for now. But I’m coming over tomorrow and staying until you talk. Even if I have to sleep over.”

  I HAD JUST finished getting ready when Taylor arrived to pick me up for the party. In the short neon pink dress, and my face and hair made up, I at least looked like party material. It was only my sullen mood that was out of place.

  “You look beautiful.” Taylor gave me a cautious smile.

  “Thanks.”

  “Lucas’s parents will be at this party?” Mom raised an eyebrow in question just as we were about to leave.

  I gave her a blank stare. I should’ve been prepared to answer this question, but I wasn’t.

  Taylor, however, didn’t miss a beat, his voice smooth and even. “Of course, Mrs. Reilly. You have nothing to worry about.”

  And just like that Mom smiled. “Okay, have fun you two.”

  He slid his hand in mine and we walked to his car, the unnerving feeling of being watched slicing my bones in half.

  “How do you lie so easily?” The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them.

  He held the door open for me, his gaze catching mine as I slipped into the seat. Hurt and anger flashed in his eyes. “Try to hide an addiction long enough and you become quite skilled at the art of lying. It kind of comes with the territory.” He sat in the driver’s seat and slammed his door shut.

  The words spat out like my mouth had disconnected from my brain. “Is that a skill you use a lot?” I bit my lip, realizing what I’d just said. Was it my own guilt for lying to him that was making me say these things?

  A muscle in his jaw twitched, his shoulders tensing in the seat. “Only when necessary.”

  “Has it been necessary to lie to me?”

  With his hand gripping the steering wheel tightly, he jerked his gaze to me—the slow burn of anger on his face. “I don’t lie to you, Skye. I don’t make a habit of lying. But my ability sure saved your ass just now, didn’t it?”

  I sat back in my seat as we drove in a tense silence to Great Falls. By the time we got to Lucas’s house, with my paranoia following me all the way to the wide double doors, I had a feeling this party was going to be a disaster.

  Inside, the living room of the large house had been transformed into the kind of trendy lounge you would see at any downtown D.C. hot spot. But of course, I would expect nothing less. To Emily, party planning was an art form.

  She’d gone for a modern Moroccan theme. Everything was done in bold purples, oranges and pinks. On one side of the room, she created a lounge area by placing small tables adorned with beautiful Moroccan lanterns and colorful oversized throw pillows on the floor. The luminous glow of the candlelight gave it an alluring ambiance. The other side of the room had been cleared of furniture to make space for a dance floor complete with flashing lights that Lucas just finished installing. Loud music came from unseen speakers all throughout the house.

  “Wow, Emily.” Taylor looked around. “Impressive.”

  “Oh, this? Just some drapes, a few floor pillows and a little strategic lighting
, that’s all. No big deal.” She flicked her hair back over her shoulder, the brilliant smile on her face telling me it was anything but.

  “She did great, didn’t she?” Lucas was all smiles as he draped his arm around her.

  I snapped an eyebrow up, but she avoided eye contact.

  “How can we help?” I asked her, hoping to find a way to get through this party.

  “Skye, you know me. I’m a perfectionist who overcompensates with flawless planning. Everything’s done. Now go and have fun.” She dismissed us with a wave of her hand.

  Emily fluttered about, greeting the arriving guests with enthusiasm, like the perfect hostess she was. “Hi, guys!” She waved her hand as Julia, and her best friend, Andrea, walked in. “So glad you made it.”

  “Like we would miss this for anything.” Julia gave Emily an enthusiastic hug.

  Andrea smiled at us as she clung to her boyfriend, Josh. “Emily, this is beyond amazing,” she said, casting a glance around the room.

  “Yeah, you really know how to throw a party,” Josh added.

  “Oh, thanks guys.” Emily’s face lit up brighter than the flashing lights on the dance floor.

  “And you haven’t even tried the food yet,” Lucas boasted. He was all smiles as he held Emily by the waist.

  “You’ll love the bruschetta and Greek salad skewers. Oh, there’s Jennifer and Chelsea! I’m going to go say hi.” Emily waved to the girls from her art class and bounced off.

  Within ten minutes, people crowded the makeshift dance floor and lounge area. I didn’t know if all these people had been invited or if some of them were crashers, but it seemed like the entire senior class had shown up.

  Being surrounded by so many of our friends did nothing to alleviate the tension between Taylor and me. We’d barely exchanged more than a few words since we’d left my house. We sat on a large sofa all the way at the back of the room watching everyone dance to some electropop dance song from Emily’s playlist.

  Taylor shifted in his seat and turned to me. “You want a drink? Why don’t I go get us something?” He got up without waiting for a response and went to one of the tables.

  I watched him, noticing for the first time various bottles of alcohol on the table next to the sodas. Although I wasn’t much of a drinker, I never cared if there was alcohol at the party. But now that I was with Taylor, the mere thought of it made me uncomfortable.

  With my nervous gaze fixed on him, I watched as he took two red plastic cups and poured soda in the first one. Then he turned, in a way that blocked me from seeing what he was pouring into the second cup and walked back.

  “Here you go,” he said, handing me the cup with the soda.

  “Thanks.”

  I took it, trying to hide my uneasiness. But when he sat down next to me, my eyes went to the contents of the cup in his hand, lingering on the dark red liquid with cubes of ice a little too long.

  He stared down too, and when our eyes met, a scornful grin soured his face. “Cranberry juice—no vodka. Wanna try?” His voice was pure acid as he offered me the cup.

  “No, thanks.” I looked away, ashamed at my unfounded distrust. The bubble of tension between us expanded.

  Relief sang through me when Emily appeared and plopped down on the sofa. “Hey! You guys having a good time? Why aren’t you out there dancing?”

  “Not now.” Taylor’s angry tone tugged at my heart and erased the dazzling smile from Emily’s face.

  She turned to me, concern crinkling the corners of her eyes. “Okay...”

  “Hey, Em. Look what Devin brought!” Lucas called from across the room, a huge smile clinging on his face. Devin, a lanky boy on the basketball team with Lucas, held up a small aluminum barrel.

  “A keg?” Emily groaned, rubbing her forehead. “Oh, God. His parents will ship him off to some Catholic boarding school in Brazil if the house gets trashed.”

  Lucas, Devin, and a third boy who I’d never seen before, poured beer into plastic cups.

  “Bottoms up, bro!” Lucas gave Devin a slap on the back. They chugged the beer down and belched loudly.

  “Gross. Idiot.” Emily wrinkled her nose. “I swear, high school boys are all so stupid and immature.” Her eyes fell on Taylor. “Oh, I mean…except you, Taylor.”

  He barked a wry laugh. “Yeah, thanks, Emily.”

  “Emily, my gatinha!” Lucas called to her. “You gonna dance with me or not?”

  She shook her head. “I hate it when he calls me that. I really need to keep an eye on him. Once he starts with the Portuguese it means he’s drunk.” She shot me a look of concern and whispered, “Are you going to be okay?”

  “Yeah, everything’s fine.” The way her eyebrow snapped up me told me she didn’t buy it.

  “Em, don’t make me come over there and get you. Vem cá.” Lucas wriggled his finger at her.

  “Just go, Emily,” I told her.

  “Okay, but I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze and went to Lucas who placed his eager hands on her waist, Samba-ing her away to the dance floor.

  Taylor and I went back to our uncomfortable silence, watching Devin and his friend pour more beer from the keg.

  “Hey, Taylor, you want some?” Devin called.

  Taylor shook his head.

  “Don’t worry.” Devin’s friend chimed in. “I got two more kegs in my car.”

  “I’m good, thanks,” Taylor replied.

  I gave Taylor a curious gaze. “Does it bother you? The drinking?”

  “It’s not like I was ever the poster child for teen substance abuse prevention programs. But I’m assuming you mean on a personal level, not a moral one.” A brittle smile formed wrinkles at the edge of his mouth. “I don’t really think about it.”

  “So it’s easy for you?”

  “Easy?” His eyebrow jerked up. “I wouldn’t go that far. But even at my most strung-out, cheap vodka and stale keg beer were not my drink of choice. I had better taste than that. I guess a good comparison would be like trying to lose weight when your friend is eating French fries twenty-four-seven. Sure, there’s a little temptation, but it’s hardly worth blowing the diet over.”

  He never said anything about still struggling with his addiction. It always seemed to me like he just had it all together. “So then what was your drink of choice? You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

  “Yeah, I don’t like to talk about it with other people, but with you…I don’t mind.” He turned to look at me, his face softening. “Scotch. And the more expensive the better. It got me into real trouble one day when my father discovered I had practically depleted his collection. I would steal a couple of bottles to take to school and replace the empty ones with black tea and a little food coloring.” He let out a short laugh. “Can you imagine how pissed he was when he tried bottle after bottle and they all tasted like ice tea? I wish I could’ve seen his face.”

  I mulled this over for a second. “So if there was a five hundred dollar bottle of scotch on that table…”

  “It would make resisting a little harder, yes.” He nodded and shifted his gaze to look me straight in the eye. “But now I know what I would risk losing, what I would become. And nothing is worth that. Besides, there are other things I find much harder to resist now.” He leaned closer and took a hold of my hand, his eyes becoming that rich, warm caramel that melted my defenses. “Why don’t we get some fresh air?”

  I gave him a small smile. “That sounds nice.”

  With my hand in his, he led me outside to the pool. People crowded the patio, some dancing to the same blaring music and others lounging by the different sitting areas. Emily had taken her Moroccan décor outside by placing the same small lamps all around the pool. Colorful throw pillows covered the large wicker sectional couch, where a group of about twenty of our friends sat around a stone fire pit.

  “Taylor, Skye, over here,” Josh called to us. He sat next to Andrea and Julia who held roasting sticks wi
th marshmallows over the fire pit.

  “Thanks, but we’re going for a walk,” Taylor replied.

  Leaving the crowd and the loud music behind, he led me to a large oak tree in the yard from where a woven egg-shaped chair hung. We sat in the cocoon-like swing, swaying to the music that had become a soft murmur in the background. For the first time in what seemed like forever, we were the only two people around. No one else but us. I relaxed.

  “Skye, do you trust me?” The sharp edge in Taylor’s voice perforated the silence.

  “Yes,” I replied, my defenses back up.

  “Really? Because it doesn’t always feel that way.” Even in the dim light, I could see the uncertainty straining his face. “You can tell me anything, you know. Whatever is going on…you can tell me.”

  A knot formed in my stomach under his peering gaze. I wanted to be honest with him; I didn’t want to lose him. A confession started bubbling up inside me, but I swallowed it back down. If he knew about my crazy feelings for Ethan, or the dream-cheating and growing paranoia, he’d dump me for sure.

  We sat there for a while, staring at each other. Finally, he let out a frustrated sigh. “Listen, I get it. Don’t be afraid to hurt my feelings. If you don’t want to—”

  I froze. “What? No. It’s not like that. I- I just haven’t been sleeping well and it’s making me a little edgy. That’s all. I’m sorry for acting so crazy lately. Really.”

  He didn’t speak for the longest time, his eyes searching for something in mine. “Fine. Just know I’m here for you.” He cupped my face in his hands and traced my lips with his finger. A different kind of emotion filled his eyes. “No more arguing tonight. So many better things we could be doing instead…”

  I closed my eyes as his mouth brushed against my neck, making its way slowly up to my earlobe, and across my jawline. When I opened my eyes again, I was struck by the longing I saw in his. But something else hid somewhere deep in the smoldering caramel of his eyes. I felt the desperation the moment his mouth found mine. The kiss was imploring, his lips crushing mine over and over. His fingers laced through my hair, gripping the nape of my neck and pulling me even closer. I clung to him too, desperate to lose myself in his kisses, to be free of the madness of the last few days.