Tomorrow, I’d find out if I could affect a Dreamer.
seventeen
The next day dragged by so slow I only survived my last class by thinking up a hundred different ways to destroy the clock on the wall. Since we were in different grades, Addie and I had zero classes together, which made the day feel even longer. I knew what the stakes were. She could decide I was crazy, or she could believe me. The help of Mia’s best friend would be a huge asset in resolving my crisis, but it was more than that. I wanted Addie back on my side, in my life. I needed her to believe in me again. And if she could tell me what the e-mails said, or even convince Mia that I wasn’t the one sending them, that wouldn’t hurt either.
On top of that, I had to know if she remembered me from her dream. If she did—well, that could change everything too.
I leaned against the lockers outside the chemistry lab in an effort to stop myself from pacing. Chemistry was Addie’s last class of the day. I hoped I could catch her on her way to the parking lot and convince her to talk to me.
I’d have to see if I could get my keys from Finn. He’d been doing most of the driving lately. After about the fourteenth time I’d heard him mutter about wanting to live long enough to go to college, I threw my keys at him—he’d never given them back.
I was so tired. Every day that passed seemed to add ten pounds to each eyelid. I could barely keep them open—keeping them focused was impossible.
It was like my body had readjusted to real sleep with Mia and was acting more like a regular person’s. And now, after only a week without Mia’s peaceful dreams, the four years of sleep deprivation had caught up with me. Without her dreams, without real sleep, I knew I couldn’t keep this up much longer.
A guy turned the corner at the end of the hall and I caught a glimpse of that same spiky brown hair, but when I glanced up he ducked into the next classroom. He didn’t have the jacket on, but I could swear it was the Blind Skull guy. With everything going on with Mia, I’d forgotten about finding him and figuring out who he was.
The bell rang and I jumped about a foot, making a couple of sophomore girls across the hall giggle. I grinned and shook my head as they waved and smiled. Addie was halfway down the hall before I realized she’d passed me. Hefting my backpack on my shoulder, I hurried to catch up with her, but people kept pouring out of the classrooms between us, slowing me down.
Coach Mahoney turned the corner at the end of the hall. “Parker! I need to talk to you.”
Addie was already out the door; I didn’t have time to stop. Besides, missing a few—okay, most—of Jeff’s practices wasn’t the same thing as missing Coach Mahoney’s practices. “I’ll stop by your office tomorrow, Coach!” I called over my shoulder, speeding up. I’d been around Mahoney long enough to know he cared more about performance on the field than politics off it. And he’d never had a single complaint about my performance.
“Parker!” he shouted again.
I sprinted through the door, down the stairs, and still didn’t catch up with Addie until we’d reached the parking lot.
“Addie, wait!” I yelled when my feet hit the pavement fifteen feet behind her.
Addie froze, then pivoted around to stare at me.
Addie—dreams of spontaneous concerts, spooky walks in the park … and me.
At first, a look of disbelief and anger filled her face, but when she opened her mouth nothing came out. She closed it, confusion filling her eyes, and she waited. It took me a full minute to realize she was giving me a chance to speak.
“We need to talk.” Everything about the way she glared at me screamed that she wanted to say no, to tell me off. I rushed on. “It’s really important. Please.”
With an exasperated sigh, she jammed her hands onto her hips and walked toward me. “Fine. What?”
“Could we go somewhere?” I really didn’t know where to start. I hadn’t actually expected her to agree, and the middle of the school parking lot didn’t seem like a prime location to chat.
“Great idea!” Finn appeared from out of nowhere and pushed Addie and me toward my car. His shirt of the day said, See you all at my intervention.
I might have to get one of those.
“We’re all going?” Addie scowled.
“We’ll hurry. I promise.” I opened the front passenger door for her and then climbed into the back seat. My mom used to flick me in the shoulder any time I didn’t open doors for girls. It didn’t actually hurt, but it got her point across. It was an old habit now. Finn drove us out of the parking lot and I tried to get my thoughts together.
Addie only gave me about thirty seconds before she spun around in her seat and said, “Okay, talk.”
“Do you remember what you dreamt about last night?”
Her eyes widened before her face went blank. “No, why?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but I wasn’t sure what to say. From her expression, I was pretty sure she was lying, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up.
Addie turned to Finn. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere,” he said with a grin. “I’m just making sure you can’t run away from this conversation.”
She leaned against the door and crossed her arms over her chest before turning her glare on me. “So? You’re just wondering about my dreams?”
“Not exactly.” I paused and decided at first it would probably be best to avoid mentioning Mia altogether. “I have this kind of … talent … I guess.”
“A talent?” Addie raised one eyebrow, but she seemed more curious now than angry.
“Yeah. I can see other people’s dreams. And for the last few nights, I’ve been watching yours.”
Her eyes darted back and forth between Finn and me, like she thought maybe she missed the joke. “Uh—huh?”
“Prove it. Give her examples.” Finn slowed to a stop at a red light. He glanced at his sister. “Although she’ll never believe you if she doesn’t remember the dreams.”
Addie followed our conversation with her eyes, looking more frustrated by the second.
I shook my head. “I’m pretty sure she does.”
“I’m right here!” she snarled. “If you want to talk to me, then talk to me. If not, then take me home. Now!”
“Sorry.” I ran through her dreams in my head, trying to decide where to start.
“A couple of nights ago, you had a dream you were at the mall—shopping in the music store.” I watched her face carefully, but she didn’t betray any emotion. “All these bands kept showing up and playing songs. It was actually pretty awesome.”
Addie sighed and rubbed her hands over her face. Finn kept glancing between her and the road. After a minute, she leaned back against the door again and looked at me, her eyes sad.
“All you’ve proven is that you’re every bit as creepy as Mia says you are—and maybe more than a little insane.” She scowled at Finn. “He’s supposed to be your friend. Can’t you get him some help? Tell his mom?”
“I believe him.”
“No. You don’t.” Disbelief and contempt took turns stamping their way across Addie’s expression.
Finn pulled into a park across the street from the elementary school. He turned to face his sister and looked more serious than I’d ever seen him look. “Yes, I do.”
Gratitude welled in my chest. Someday I’d have to pay him back for all this.
Addie threw her hands in the air before resting them on her knees. “Well, then you’re both nuts.”
Something in her expression seemed more concerned than angry. Like she feared what we were saying could possibly be true. I needed to go for it—no holding back.
“Another night this week, you had a dream you were in a park. Something was following you, but it never caught up.” Something inside told me not to mention the dream outside of Mia’s window. I still wasn’t sure what that wa
s and any mention of Mia would probably make Addie shut me out completely.
Finn laughed and banged his fist on the steering wheel. “What were you afraid of? The squirrels?”
She punched him in the shoulder. “Shut up.”
I frowned and shook my head at Finn. He couldn’t make fun of her, not right now.
He nodded with a shrug, catching my hint. “I need some air anyway.” Finn got out of the car and walked toward a nearby pavilion with a drinking fountain.
Addie lifted her eyes to mine; they were a sea of confusion. Her hands were clenched tightly around the hem of her purple-and-gray-striped shirt. “I remember that park dream. How did—how did you know about it?”
“I told you. I watched it.” I took in a deep breath, hoping she was coming around.
She shook her head. “To be honest, I don’t know if I even want to believe you. If it’s true, then I’m bugged. My dreams are private, and I don’t want you snooping around in them. But if it’s a lie, then you’re insane and really messed up.”
“Oh.” I was an idiot. This was the exact reason I’d avoided watching Addie’s dreams up until now. Somehow I knew she’d react this way. I put my hand on the back of her seat, resisting the urge to touch her. “I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I never watched your dreams before this week. And I won’t ever again if you’ll just belie—”
She raised her gaze to mine and cut me off, her eyes intense. “Do you ever—I mean, do the people know you’re there? Do they see you? Talk to you?”
“If I’m touching them, then they can see me and I can talk to them. But I’m not sure if they remember it.” I paused, nervous to ask, but dying to know the answer. “Last night, you dreamed about when we were younger and your hair got stuck in the swing during that storm. After the memory, I touched you—”
Addie gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. Her other hand grasped mine tight, searching for support. Whispered words snuck through her fingers.
“I remember you.”
The implications of her words shot through me, quick and unexpected like a desert storm, leaving a dump truck worth of sand strategically located in my throat. After about four attempts to swallow, I finally managed to respond.
“From your dream?”
She nodded tightly, one hand still covering her mouth as though refusing to let her speak anymore. Her other hand trembled. I wrapped both of mine around it and held on tight.
“What, exactly, do you remember?”
Addie lowered her hand from her mouth to her lap and bit her lip. “Everything, I think.” She closed her eyes and leaned back against the passenger seat. “I remember you being there after the memory. It’s weird, though, because at the time you totally blended in, like you were part of it.”
She opened her eyes. “But when I saw you today I re-membered you being there, and something about it felt different, separate maybe.”
“So, you remember our conversation? What I said?” I tried not to get my hopes up. This only mattered if she remembered everything, and if it happened with everyone and not just her. Still, it was incredible that she remembered me at all.
Addie scrunched up her forehead. “I think so. We talked about the memory—and you asked me to remember our conversation if you talked to me about it later. Right?”
The breath I hadn’t noticed I’d been holding rushed out. “Yep, that’s pretty much it.”
She took a deep breath and frowned. “Well, since that doesn’t explain—or justify—all the crap you’ve been pulling lately, I should go.” She pulled her hand out of mine and clasped hers in her lap.
I cleared my throat. “There’s more.”
Addie relaxed back against the seat and turned her eyes to meet mine. She looked relieved. “I hope it’s good. Tell me.”
It only took a few minutes to explain the way my curse worked, the lack of sleep, and the way Mia’s dreams had changed everything. When I finished, she sighed.
“That’s why you look exhausted all the time.” She bit her lip, and then put her hand on my arm before continuing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know … I said some pretty bad stuff.”
I shrugged. “It’s okay. I did some pretty bad things.”
“I know, but … ” She squeezed my arm tight. “So, you’ll probably die if … if we can’t figure this out?”
I nodded, and her face fell. I didn’t know what to say. I’d never reassured anyone about my possible impending death before. Maybe it was wrong, but the look of devastation on Addie’s face made me feel less alone. It was a simple comfort, and not one I’d ever experienced before.
If I died, I would be missed … and not only by my mom and Finn.
Finn knocked on the window and we both jumped. She rolled it down.
“So, it’s cold out here. If you two are done making out—”
“Bite me,” Addie interrupted him. Finn laughed, walked around the car, and slid into the driver’s seat, but Addie didn’t remove her hand from my arm. “So, I appreciate you telling me, I really do, but what do you expect from me? Why did you tell me?”
“We were hoping you might help us with Mia.” I tried to read her expression, but it clouded over and became un-readable.
“So you aren’t actually the one sending the e-mails?”
“No, it’s not me. Wait—e-mails? She’s gotten more than one?” I felt a shiver run down my spine, remembering her nightmare again.
“Yeah, she’s gotten one every couple of days. She has at least two or three now.” Addie released my arm and rubbed her fingers over her knees. She appeared more nervous than she had during my whole confession.
“What’s wrong?” Finn looked as confused as I felt.
“It’s just … if it was Parker”—Addie glanced at me and then back to her brother—“I never believed he’d actually hurt her. I thought he was messing with her head, which was bad enough. But if it’s someone else … who knows what they might do.”
“Exactly.” I nodded. “We need your help figuring out who’s really sending the messages.”
Finn draped one arm over his seat, angling his body to face us. “If we can do that, maybe we can find enough proof to show Mia it isn’t Parker.”
Addie sighed and bent her head over the dashboard. “You really came to the wrong person.”
My gut fell to my feet. “Why?”
“Ever since that day she came over and you were there, Mia won’t talk to me about the e-mails. I mean, she tells me if she got one, but if I ask what it says or if she still thinks it’s from you, she totally freaks. Literally has a panic attack—she shakes her head and starts breathing really fast. Then she bolts. After three reactions like that … ” Addie shrugged. “I stopped asking.”
My body slumped against the back seat as one more weight landed on the thousand already there. Sure, Addie believed me, but it wasn’t going to help after all. Every time I got close to an answer—to things getting better—someone built a huge rock wall right between me and the finish line.
I was getting really tired of running into rock walls.
Glancing up, I saw Addie and Finn both leaning over the front seat, watching me. They looked sad … and scared.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“It’s okay. We’ll just have to think of another way.” I closed my eyelids tight, then opened them again. “I’ll watch her dreams again—see if I can get any more clues.”
“No, bad idea.” Finn shook his head. “You don’t want to go through that again, man.”
“Go through what?” Addie glanced at me, but I shook my head and looked out the window at the park. I couldn’t tell anyone about the nightmare again. Reliving it in my own head was bad enough.
“Mia had a nightmare about the guy who’s threatening her. Parker was the bad guy in Mia’s mind. Not fun to watch yourself being all e
vil, you know?”
Addie winced.
“Are you sure we can’t just figure it out? Is there anyone you think could be sending the e-mails?” Finn asked, tugging on his ear again.
“No, I have no idea.” I shifted my weight uncomfortably on the seat.
“What about Thor?” Finn turned back to face me, his expression hopeful. “He’s crazy, has anger issues, and hasn’t he been pretty weird about Mia?”
“He scares pretty much everyone without even trying.” Addie nodded at Finn. “It could be him.”
“Plus, he seems to enjoy it.” Finn rummaged around in his backpack.
I shrugged. “Maybe, but I think he’s only involved be-cause she’s Jeff’s foster sister. He doesn’t seem all that interested in Mia unless he’s trying to keep me away from her, and we all agree that’s pretty justified.”
“So, let’s start with a list of suspects.” Finn fished a pen and paper out of his bag.
Addie covered her mouth and tried not to laugh.
“What?” Finn looked up. “I’ve played Clue.”
I shrugged. “Go for it.”
“We should include every guy we’ve seen her with.” Finn scribbled Thor on the paper and Jeff underneath it.
“There is some guy that knows her from work at the mall. Chad.” It felt lame, but it was the only other person I could come up with. Finn scribbled the name on the list and looked back up expectantly.
It was quiet a minute, and Addie sighed. “It’s hard to imagine anyone we know doing something so terrible. But it doesn’t even have to be someone we know. It could be someone from her old school.” She leaned her head back against the seat and groaned. “I wish she would just talk to me.”
“I’ll find a way to watch her dreams. It doesn’t matter if it’s hard on me,” I said, even though my stomach told me it did—a lot. “If that’s the only way to get any clues, I’ll do it.
She needs our help.”
Neither of them argued. They simply watched me. I knew they wanted to help, but I was the only one who could really do anything. Besides, they were already helping more than they knew. It was nice just knowing they believed me.
Insomnia (The Night Walkers) Page 14