Fated Dreams (Book One In The Affinity series)

by Christina Smith

  “I went to the bathroom last night, and when I got back in bed you were mumbling the name David.”

  I didn’t know I talked in my sleep. “I was? That is so weird; I don’t know anyone by that name.”

  She shrugged her shoulders, smiled, grabbed Derrick, and took off.

  I lay back down on my bed. I knew I dreamed of someone, but it was Lucas, not somebody named David.

  Chapter Five

  Shadow

  After a good dreamless sleep I felt rested.

  I even arrived at school on time, shocking my friends, whom I walked with from the parking lot. I did notice that they drove together in Derrick’s car.

  “So how was lunch yesterday?” I asked as we headed into the school.

  They both smiled like they had a secret. “Great,” they said in unison.

  “So in translation, I’ll have to wait to get Emma alone before I get any juicy details.”

  She beamed at me, eyes shining. “Exactly.” We all laughed and headed for our separate lockers.

  In my first class, I turned around and stared at Derrick. “So did you kiss her yet?”

  He looked a little smug. “Well, you did say to go for it, didn’t you?” His grin spread across his face.

  “Good for you,” I said as Miss Reynolds started the class. I turned around and listened to her lead a discussion on Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, the book we were to begin reading.

  After class, I walked with Derrick down the hall, but separated at my locker.

  He had next period with Emma, so he had a big smile on his face as he rushed away.

  In music class, we partnered up and practiced the new piece. I worked with Hannah Smith, who played the violin. The two instruments sounded good together, and I couldn’t wait until tomorrow when the whole class played.

  The cafeteria at lunch was always noisy. Get a couple hundred teenagers in one place, and there’s bound to be yelling, laughter, and sometimes food fights. Today wasn’t bad, but there was a buzz of conversations in all directions in the large lunchroom. The smell of grease and tomato sauce filled the air. We were sitting at our usual table, and today Derrick’s friends Pete and Cory joined us.

  I had just taken a bite of my tuna sandwich when I heard Pete say, “So Sarah, since these two are finally dating”—he pointed to Derrick and Emma—“how about you and I go out sometime?”

  I looked up from my book and gulped down the bite of sandwich. Sometimes I took a book to lunch, and with the extra male conversations that involved sports and girls, I needed it today.

  Derrick, who was about to take a bite of his bologna sandwich, froze with his mouth open. His eyes darted to me, and I knew he could read my panicked thoughts. He set his sandwich down and smiled. “Oh please, Peter, Sarah is way too good for you,” he said with a laugh. “What happened to Carrie, or was it Michelle?”

  Peter gave Derrick an arrogant smile and leaned back in his chair. “I have room in my life for all of them. So Sarah, what do you say?”

  Thank God for Derrick. I knew he’d know that I wasn’t the least bit interested in Pete. He was a very nice guy, and with his light blond wavy hair and blue eyes, he was quite a catch. But he was a little bit of a ladies’ man. Like he said, he usually dated more than one girl at a time, and that just wasn’t for me.

  “Although it is tempting to become a member of your harem, I think I’ll pass.”

  Peter placed his hand over his heart, acting like I had hurt him, making everyone laugh.

  “Hey, Pete, did you know Sarah and Emma had a sleepover on Saturday?” Derrick suddenly asked. I glanced at Derrick, wondering why he would bring that up. Why would Pete care?

  Pete smiled. “You did? So who won the pillow fight?” he asked, looking over at Emma and me. We were sitting next to each other.

  Emma and I exchanged confused glances. “What pillow fight?” Emma asked.

  “You know. When girls have sleepovers, they always have pillow fights.”

  We stared at him in disbelief. He was smiling, waiting for our answer. Derrick and Cory were laughing, nudging each other.

  I glanced at Derrick to explain. “Pete thinks that girls have pillow fights in sexy lingerie when they have sleepovers,” Derrick said, filling us in.

  “They do, I’ve seen it in movies,” Pete said, defending himself.

  I laughed. “In the movies maybe, but not in real life. I hate to break it to you, but I wear flannel pants and a tank top to bed. And I have never had a pillow fight.”

  He looked stricken. “Are you sure? Maybe it’s just you?”

  “Sorry, I don’t know any girl who has.”

  He pouted, looking down into his can of soda. The expression on his face resembled a child that had just been told there’s no Santa. The conversation was a little noisy then, and Derrick and Cory started giving Pete a hard time.

  There was a loud clatter behind us. We turned in the direction of the noise.

  Logan and his friends were laughing at Bobby Thornton, who was holding a tray with half his lunch on it, the other half at his feet. “Looks like Logan strikes again. Isn’t it hilarious to knock someone’s food on the floor?” Cory asked dryly.

  “What a douche bag,” Emma mumbled from beside me. “Oh look, Sarah.” She pointed at Lucas, who was walking toward Bobby from his table to help him pick up his food. She leaned over to whisper in my ear, “Isn’t that sweet?”

  I nodded but didn’t say anything. The truth was, the more I saw of Lucas, the more I realized how wrong I had been about him. It made me feel things that I didn’t want to feel. Of course, the dreams didn’t help either. But I was learning that Lucas was a good guy.

  In history class, Lucas stopped at my desk on the way to his. “So how was work Saturday?” He leaned against Wally Martin’s desk, which was next to mine.

  “Fine, how was the rest of your shift?”

  He chuckled. “Not bad, I didn’t embarrass myself once.” I knew he was referring to his words about us getting to know each other better, and since thinking about it made butterflies appear in my stomach, I just grinned at him.

  At a loss for words, I picked up my pen and twirled it around on my book, feeling the need to do something with my hands.

  Mr. Henderson came in and told everyone to take their seats. Lucas smiled and went to his desk just before Wally sat down.

  I peeked at Emma, who sat on the other side of me, and was not surprised to see her grinning at me from ear to ear.

  I had to work after school. It was slow on Mondays, so the clock ticked by at an extremely slow pace. I was ripping tickets today, a job I worked at alone.

  At break time, I was in the small kitchen having a bottle of water and a hot dog. The room consisted of a sink, a microwave, a vending machine, and an old fridge. I was sitting at one of the two tables in the room. The room wasn’t exactly pretty, but it did the job. There was a chair I could sit on and rest my feet, and that was all that mattered.

  Marcy Becker walked in just as I was taking a bite of my hot dog; juice from the wiener fell onto my pants. I rubbed the spot with a tissue, thankful that the pants were black.

  “Hey, Sarah, have you worked with the new guy?” Marcy asked as she plugged change into the vending machine and chose an iced tea. She was a grade lower than me, but we went to the same school. She was tall, though, so you couldn’t really tell she was younger. Her long black hair, milky skin, and gray eyes attracted a few boys from our school; they would hang around the theater while she worked. She’d been here about six months.

  I swallowed the bite of hot dog that I was chewing and answered, “You mean Zack? Yeah, last week on sales.”

  She sat down beside me and opened her drink, tossing the lid onto the table. “I worked with him the night he started, he seems nice enough.” She glanced around to make sure we were alone. “Did you know him before he started here?”

  “No, why?”

  She looked uncomfortable with what she was about to say.
“Well, the first night he worked with Susan, she was training him.” Susan was our assistant manager. “She introduced us, and told him what school I went to, and that a few of us went there. When she mentioned your name, he looked like he recognized it.”

  I didn’t know what she was getting at. “So,” I encouraged her. She seemed reluctant to continue.

  Again she looked around the room and tapped the tabletop with her fingers nervously. “Well, we had a break together that night, and he was asking questions about you. I thought it was a little weird, since you hadn’t met yet.”

  I had to admit it was a bit strange. “What kind of questions did he ask?”

  “Oh, just what grade you were in, how old you were, and this is a bit odd since he’d never met you, but…he asked if you were seeing anyone.” She gave me a guilty look and added, “I said no, is that okay? I didn’t know what to say.”

  I gave her a small smile. “No, it’s fine, but it is kind of strange.”

  “I know, right? After that, he seemed normal. I worked with him on the weekend, and he was fun to work with.”

  I was a little stunned and didn’t know what to say next. Marcy looked at her watch. “Crap. I’ve kept you in here talking so long, I think your break is up.”

  I glanced at the clock. “Yep, I’ll see you later.” Hurrying out the door, I went back to work.

  The rest of the night went by faster, since I was in kind of a daze. Why would Zack ask those questions before he even met me? I could see if I was the only name mentioned, but Marcy said Susan had named all the kids who worked here that went to Hamilton High. She also said he acted like he recognized my name, although we had never met until last week.

  It became very busy, so I pushed the new guy to the back of my mind and focused on work.

  When my shift finally ended, I headed out to my car where I parked it in the lot beside the building. As I was walking through the quiet lot, I heard a noise. It sounded like a bottle being kicked. I turned around to see if anyone was there, but all I saw were empty cars. Awareness crept over me, and all the hairs on my neck stood on end. I stood still, holding my breath for a couple of seconds, listening. The only sounds I heard were the distant cry from a cat, and cars whizzing by on the highway. “Hello, is anybody there?” I called quietly. No one answered. I took a few deep breaths to try to calm myself.

  When that didn’t work, I ran the rest of the way to my car. I started the engine and took off, going faster than I needed to. Man, I was freaked. I just wanted to get home. I couldn’t shake the feeling I had when I was in the parking lot, the feeling of being watched.

  I pulled in my driveway still a little anxious, so this time I didn’t hesitate. I just ran to the house and through the door.

  “Hey, honey, how was work?” my dad asked me from behind. I was standing with my hand on the door handle.

  I turned around. “Um, kind of slow. I’m tired, though, good night.” I started to walk past him, but he held his arm out to block my path.

  “What’s wrong? You look upset.”

  “Nothing’s wrong, I just had a long night.” When he didn’t look convinced I added, “I swear.”

  “Okay, but if you need to talk, let me know.”

  “Dad!” Alex called from the living room. “Are you bringing the chips or not?”

  Dad looked at me with a guilty expression. “We’re playing video games, want to join? It’s been awhile since I whipped your butt.”

  I smiled, cheered a little by my father’s childish hobbies. “No thanks, I really am tired, I’m going to bed.” I turned, walking toward the stairs, and then stopped. “Oh, where’s Mom?”

  “She’s at a staff meeting at school, she’ll be late.”

  “Tell her that I said good night.”

  I turned back and headed up to my room, where I changed into a tank top and yoga pants and then climbed into bed, too restless to do anything else. Of course I couldn’t fall asleep, though, simply tossing and turning until I eventually drifted off.

  I was in the backyard with Lucas again. We were in the moonlight, dancing as usual, his strong arms wrapped around me, giving me warmth. I held a single red rose in my hand, a gift from him. Just as I raised the bud to my nose, breathing in its scent, I heard the squeak of the gate opening. I glanced over his shoulder and saw someone running towards Lucas with a butcher knife in his hand. “NOOOO!” I screamed, but it did nothing to stop the hooded man as he thrust the knife deep into Lucas’ back. It was too late to save him.

  Lucas lay in my arms, staring up at me with dead eyes as I clenched the now crushed rose in my hand.

  Chapter Six

  Panic

  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.