The Dreamer

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The Dreamer Page 5

by E. J. Mellow


  I can sense Mom rolling her eyes. I also know from whom I inherited that trait. “Yes, okay, I’ll try to remember to give him a call.”

  “Good, good. All right, you and Jared have fun tonight, and I love you.”

  “Love you too, Mom.”

  Hanging up, I continue to watch Jared making himself at home in my kitchen. His ease and relaxation in my small apartment is kind of cute. When he catches me eyeing him, he shoots me a shy, curious smile. Cute just got upgraded to adorable.

  After we’re done filling our faces with Chinese, we settle in to watch the movies.

  “So what have you brought?”

  He flashes an excited grin. “What do you think?”

  I stare at him blankly, really having no clue. He chuckles and tosses the two movies onto the bed, where I’m sitting cross-legged. “You really think I’d miss the chance to finish this series with you? As soon as you suggested watching the first one, I knew you were a keeper.”

  I smirk, reading the titles: Die Hard 2 and Die Hard: With a Vengeance. I’ve been into good cop/bad cop dramas since I was little. I think it’s my dad’s influence, being that that’s his alter ego’s fantasy profession.

  “You don’t find a lady that likes cop movies every day. Gotta take advantage when you do.” He wraps his arms around my waist and gently pulls me toward him, softly running kisses along my earlobe. I squirm, and before I can become completely distracted, escape his hold.

  “I know for a fact we won’t be watching much of anything if you keep that up.”

  “I’m willing to risk it if you are.” His gaze is sinful.

  “I have no doubt that you would, but here’s the thing”—I pop the first movie into my player—“you might have underestimated my fandom for this genre. Especially where Brucey is concerned.”

  “Brucey?”

  “Yup, Bruce Willis. If there’s a chance to see him in action and to hear him lay down some Grade A puns, well that’s it, game over. You’ll know where to find me.”

  Jared raises his eyebrows. “Should I be worried?”

  I sigh as the man himself fills the screen. “Always.”

  After getting my vitamin B fix—much to Jared’s amusement—we get ready for bed. Despite not doing much today, I’m absolutely drained.

  “Tired?” he asks as we push ourselves into my cool sheets.

  “Extremely.” I wiggle my way into his strong arms.

  “Too bad, because you look absolutely edible in your little pajama set.”

  Normally I wear mannish baggy clothes when I sleep alone, but on the occasions when a guy comes around, I try to be a little enticing. My Road Runner boxer shorts I’ll save for month six.

  Even though Jared’s mouth is gentle and coaxing, he seems to catch on to the seriousness of my exhaustion, because he laughs warmly and kisses my cheek instead. “I had a great time tonight,” he whispers. “And I’m really glad you’re okay.” His features are content and relaxed in the dim light.

  “Me too.” I run my fingers across his jaw. “To both of those things.”

  He smiles before kissing me once more. “G’night, Molly.”

  “G’night,” I say and pull his arms tighter around me. It only takes a moment before we both drift off to sleep.

  —∞—

  The darkness envelops my body like a warm blanket as I propel forward. I’m completely weightless as I soar above a grassy field, and I wonder if this is what it’s like to be a ghost. The crisp fragrance of night hits my face, welcoming me in a refreshing caress. I pass over a familiar tree and continue onward. A city rises in the distance as I draw nearer. A fortified wall surrounds its perimeter. I fly past the wall and above the city, swimming in and out of the tall buildings.

  As I look around in wonder, I note that this metropolis seems to have the same characteristics as any other: glass-and-metal skyscrapers desperately reach toward the zooming stars above—a lover trying to return to its mate. Brick-and-marble apartment buildings along with sidewalks and parks fill the guts of the city, coiling around tall structures in a grid formation.

  The one thing that does seem out of place is the complete absence of cars. It’s the cleanest city I’ve ever seen. No graffiti covers any surface or wall, no garbage wraps along the streets, and no steam rises from drains. The people beneath me ride sleek bikes, skateboard, or walk. Their dark clothes camouflage them into the night-filled city, bringing to mind a symbiotic existence with their surroundings and making it difficult to distinguish how many people are truly below.

  I continue to travel deeper into the metropolis that’s covered in a cool blanket of white-blue light, reminiscent of the hottest part of a flame. Victorian lampposts line the modern sidewalks, housing this swirling bright mixture of colors. Transfixed by the movement inside these lamps, a feeling of embarrassment washes over me. It’s as if I’m glancing at something so pure and vulnerable that I need to look away. What a funny dream this is.

  As I pass over certain city squares, I notice strange, glowing circular pods tucked away into corners. White light blazes from their centers as people pop in and out like they are walking through an invisible door.

  A whooshing sound passes by, and I glance up, startled at what I hadn’t noticed until now. There are zipline cables everywhere, with dozens of people zooming from building to building. They grasp sticks that look like archery bows slung over the lines, and familiar-looking tubes sit on their backs.

  My body changes direction, descending toward the fire escape of a brick apartment building. I reach out, grabbing hold of the metal balcony, and place my feet down, my body registering gravity once again.

  I stand on the fire escape—about six flights up—and watch clusters of people hustle on the streets below. I tip my head up to the night sky, studying the familiar captivating shooting stars, and that’s when it all comes crashing back to me.

  I’ve been here before. Not to this city, but to this place with the sky that zooms overhead. I remember the large field I flew over earlier and the solitary tree. A memory of a man’s face begins to take shape, but it’s dashed away by the sound of voices behind me.

  Turning around to one of the apartment’s windows, I peek inside. There’s a small kitchen that’s separated from a dining room and living room by a bar countertop. The room and kitchen are modern in design, like an apartment one would find in New York: chrome countertops, glass-and-metal kitchen cabinets, and rich wooden floors. The only thing out of sorts is the lighting, which looks like the same material and colors I saw in the lanterns on the street below. The interior bright blue-white substance swirls and coils around itself, and again the familiar feelings creep over me.

  A girl walks into the room beyond the kitchen, placing a bowl on the dining room table. Her long blonde hair is pulled up into a ponytail, revealing pale skin that’s high in contrast against her dark-black clothes. The name Aveline pops into my head.

  “I don’t know why you’re so calm about this,” the girl says in a slightly frustrated tone as an older man strides into view. He looks late forties and has short brown hair that’s salted with bits of gray. His wide shoulders pull the limits of his black uniform, and with his tall frame and thick beard, he reminds me of an old sea captain. Pulling out a chair at the head of the table, he sits.

  “I’m calm because there’s nothing to get excited about yet.” He moves the newly placed bowl closer to him.

  “Exactly…yet! What happens if she comes back? You should have seen him. It was like the sky opened up and poured down the heavens.” The man is unmoved and pops whatever he just plucked from the bowl into his mouth. “Seriously, Tim, he keeps droning on about how this could be the key to winning against the Metus. But he can’t even explain how!” When she realizes he’s not going to say anything, she throws up her hands. “Gah! You’re almost as bad as he is.”

  Tim leans back, rolling another item from the bowl between his thumb and pointer finger. It looks like a grape. Placing it into
his mouth, he doesn’t speak until he’s finished chewing. “Like I said before, at the moment there’s nothing to get worked up about. We don’t know if she’s coming back, and even if she does, it could mean nothing. All in due time, Aveline, all in due time.”

  Her name is Aveline! Why did I know that?

  “What you both should be doing is concentrating on your rounds.” He goes on. “We can’t have either one of you busy thinking about ‘could bes’ and ‘what ifs’ when you’re out on patrol. That’s how someone gets hurt. Especially with the higher number of sightings we’ve encountered lately.”

  I stare into the apartment like a deer in headlights. I can’t shake the feeling that they are talking about me. But nothing else makes any sense. Something called the Metus? What is this place?

  “You know, I think I could find others who would agree with me that being a Peeping Tom might be more rude than staring.” A familiar, deep voice comes from my right.

  I jump back, my stomach clenching in fright as I take in the appearance of a man casually sitting on the metal stairs that lead up to the next landing. Even in the shadows I can make out his half-upturned lips that form an amused smile. My cheeks redden as I connect with his blazing blue eyes—eyes that I feel have captured me before.

  He chuckles at whatever face I’m making, and in my shock all I manage to whisper is, “Dev.”

  — 6 —

  I STAND RIGID against the far railing of the fire escape. My heart beats erratically against my chest, a million thoughts rapidly shuffling through my mind. How did he get there? I didn’t hear a thing. Was he sitting there this whole time? Taking in his familiar face, I’m not sure if my heart palpitations are from being scared so bad I nearly peed myself or because of whom I’m looking at.

  “You remember my name.” Dev leans forward, bathing the side of his face with the light that escapes from the apartment window. My mind swirls, trying to recollect where I’ve seen him before and why I know his name.

  “I…I’ve met you before?” I stammer, more of a question than a statement.

  He’s silent for a moment, assessing me. “I don’t know, Molly. You tell me.”

  The sound of my name on his lips makes my heart do another little leap. He knows me too. Letting go of the railing, I stand tall, feigning confidence. “Yes, I think we’ve met before. A lot of this seems familiar. Not really the interior of this city, but…” I trail off, thinking of the field I flew over earlier and the single elm tree.

  “But…” Dev coaxes.

  “But I know you, and I know that girl in there.” I point toward the window. “You obviously know me too, since you said my name.”

  “Interesting” is his only reply, which has me frowning.

  Not sure where to go from here, I’m caught off guard when he suddenly stands, taking up most of the small space. I stumble back in shock and hit the railing hard. In my flustered state, I lose my balance and lean over the metal edge, about to fall. Before I can get a scream out, strong hands catch around my waist and pull me up. I’m breathing heavy as my mind slowly processes that I’m standing safe and not painting the cement red below.

  That’s when I realize my arms are tightly wrapped around Dev’s neck and my face is buried into his hard chest. Unable to stop myself, I take in his fresh scent of night and spice, and my brain stirs with a confused longing. My body that was chilled with fright is now flush as we press tight against one another. I glance into his sapphire eyes, unable to move my hands, and my stomach tightens at our facial proximity.

  “You’re a jumpy one, aren’t you?” Dev says with a smile.

  Instantly, I push away, and he chuckles.

  “I was only going to open the window,” he says, crouching down to the glass. “Oh, and by the way…” He looks back in my direction, slowly gliding his gaze up my body. “I like your outfit tonight much more than last night.” He finishes with a crude eyebrow raise before jumping inside. I’m left standing with mouth slightly ajar, glancing at my clothes. Or should I say underwear.

  “Shit.”

  I’m wearing exactly what I wore when I crawled into bed with Jared. A tight, small gray camisole and snug gray-and-white polka-dot shorts. Not leaving much to the imagination. I don’t know if this is worse than dreaming you’re naked in front of your whole high school class.

  Yeah, it’s worse.

  Coaching myself into believing this situation is not at all embarrassing, I cover my exposed chest and bend down, peering inside the open window. Dev is already standing where Aveline and the man are, and after saying a few words, they both turn in my direction.

  “Great,” I mutter.

  Now that my cover is blown and I feel like an idiot out here, I make my way through the window. I’m about to set my feet on the kitchen floor when someone helps me the rest of the way. I glance down to Dev’s hands on my hips, his fingers grazing my bare skin where my camisole hitched up.

  Umm…

  I step away and scoot my shirt down. Could I feel any more naked? “I can climb into a window, thank you very much,” I state in composed agitation, hoping anger works as the cover-up for my flushed expression.

  “We can never be too sure, now can we?” Dev leans in and winks. My mouth gapes open again at his blatant vulgarity, and his attention is brought to my lips.

  Oh dear Lord. He’s all kinds of wrong.

  I pull myself together by making a disgusted noise and glance to the other people in the apartment. This guy is making me feel crazy.

  “Tim, this is the wonder I was telling you about.” Dev turns to his companions, who both now stand, and I can’t mistake Aveline’s eyes growing beady as she scrutinizes my presence and attire. Awesome. If she didn’t like me before, she probably hates me now. And who can blame her? I would hate me in my current state too.

  “Ah, Molly is it? Welcome to our home. My name is Timon, but please call me Tim.”

  He extends his hand for me to take, and his grip is firm but comforting and just as warm as his smile. Stepping back, he looks me over. I would probably blush again if my cheeks weren’t already permanently stained red with mortification from this entire evening. “Aveline, why don’t you go and see if you can find something for our guest to wear that might make her a little more comfortable.” He glances at the girl, who still has her vengeful glare boring a hole into my face.

  “Aveline.”

  She eyes him with disdain before turning toward one of the hallways. Dev chuckles under his breath as she passes, and she loses none of her momentum as she shoves him from the side, causing him to laugh harder. I realize that his hubris doesn’t just get under my skin, and I suddenly want to befriend this girl, even though it seems like that’s the last thing in the world she wants to happen.

  Now that I’m inside, I take a moment to study the apartment. The white walls shape a perfect square, housing a late ’60’s-style sunken living room in the middle. Rich cream leather couches sit in the center along with a glass coffee table, all of which face a modern-looking fireplace inset in the farthest wall from us. The off-white coloring of the walls mixes into a strange cool-warm hue from the glowing fire and the blue-white of the lighting fixtures around the apartment. Two hallways go off on either end of the room, but they are cast in shadow so that it’s hard to discern how long they are and what is beyond. The dining table sits in front of the open-style kitchen and seats six, making me wonder how many people live here.

  Dev pulls out one of the chairs and sits. Leaning back, he puts his hands in his pockets and extends his long legs in front of him, crossing them at the ankle. Our eyes lock briefly before I look away.

  “Dev, don’t be rude by sitting first.” Tim’s brows pinch in with disapproval. “Have I taught you nothing of manners?”

  “Would you like to take a seat, Molly?” Dev says in a musically polite tone as he gracefully waves his arm out, displaying the other chairs. Before I can respond, Aveline stomps back into the room and throws clothes onto the table.<
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  “I don’t really have anything in your size,” she slightly sneers. “So I thought these stretchy pants could accommodate the difference.” I pick up what looks like spandex yoga pants, but the material is much tougher and thicker. “This is one of my bigger shirts.” She hands me a soft black T-shirt like the ones they all wear. I don’t know why she keeps referencing the size of the clothes—I’m not fat, but I guess compared to her rail-thin frame I would seem slightly Amazonian. Excuse me if I have curves.

  “And you’ll just have to make do with these boots—which I want back, by the way.” She hands me black combat boots.

  “Uh, thanks.” I hold the clothes awkwardly in my arms.

  “Dev, can you please show Molly where the bathroom is?” Tim requests pleasantly. Dev stands without a word and moves toward the hallway on the other side of the room. I hesitate for a moment before following.

  We walk a short distance in the dark hall before he stops in front of an open door, flicks on the light, and gestures for me to enter. I carefully step around him so as not to touch any part of his body. Turning, I catch him watching me strangely, and I clear my throat. “Thanks.”

  “My pleasure,” he says in an exaggerated smooth voice before disappearing back down the dark hall. I gently shut the door and lean against it, clutching the clothes to my chest.

  This is all so insane. How can this be a dream?

  I survey the small bathroom. It’s modern, white, and sparse, reminding me of what a serial killer’s bathroom could look like: easy to bleach.

  Dropping the clothes to the ground, I begin to dress. I throw the black T-shirt over my camisole, and even though Aveline said it was her biggest one, it still hugs parts of my body, specifically the bosom area. I take slight solace when I see that it’s a crew collar.

 

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