Maybe this was fate. Maybe it was magic. Real magic, not the kind you read about in fairy tales. Either way, I couldn't fight it any longer.
I sighed, unable to resist the entreating look in his beautiful eyes.
"Your hair is shorter."
He smiled at me with such relief that it almost made it worth it. Even when we both ended up in the loony bin.
Almost.
"Yours too."
I ran my hand through my new haircut distractedly.
"Yeah, well my Nan cut it. She wanted to make the cut last until I went home again for Thanksgiving break."
He was just standing there, staring at me. Not like I was a freak though. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning. Then he held out his hand expectantly. I looked at it as if it were a snake that might bite me.
"I'm Dean."
Dean. The name suited him. It was strong.
I sighed, ignoring his hand. I had to make it clear to him that this was a one-time conversation. I was here to study. not to chat with mysterious dream boys.
"Look, this isn't a good idea. We should just act like none of this ever happened. Otherwise we are basically admitting that we are insane."
"Like I said, maybe we are. I'm okay with that."
He was still grinning when he said it. I sighed again, feeling like I was speaking to a slow-witted child.
Except he wasn't, was he? He was a big, beautiful looking young man. An Adonis really. How could he be here talking to me? I was so sure I’d conjured him up out of loneliness all those years ago.
He was supposed to just be my imaginary boyfriend dammit.
"Come on, let’s talk about it. What's the big deal?"
"The big deal—"
I lowered my voice, whispering at him as I started walking around the outskirts of the game again.
"The big deal is that stuff like this isn't supposed to happen."
"Yeah, it's weird. But it's good weird, you know?"
I stopped and stared at him. He was so solid. So actually there in the flesh that I had to resist the urge to reach out and poke him.
"I guess."
"So, are you going to admit this is happening or what?”
I sighed again and stared at the hand he was once again holding out. He just stood there, patiently waiting for me to accept it. I reached out and slid my small hand into his.
"Krista. I'm Krista."
He smiled at me and clasped my hand firmly. A jolt shot through me, rattling my bones. He jerked as if he felt it too.
It was like an electrical current that seared the flesh of my palm, and shot straight to the soles of my feet. I let go abruptly, reaching up to touch the top of my head.
My hair was sticking straight up.
Dean's was too.
He smiled sheepishly as if that were a totally normal reaction to a handshake.
"So… Can I buy you a cup of coffee, Krista?"
Chapter 11
Dean
This was happening. Finally, she was sitting still and letting me get a good look at her.
It was hard to hide my grin. I stared stupidly at the ridiculously adorable girl sitting across the cafe table from me. The ridiculously adorable girl who shouldn't even exist.
But she did exist. And God damn if I wasn't thrilled about it.
I felt like I’d just won the jackpot.
Krista, on the other hand, looked nervous. Conflicted. Miserable, even. As if she'd rather be anywhere but here.
I didn't care about her misgivings at the moment, though. I was too ecstatic. I would just have to find a way to convince her that it was a good idea to get to know me. A very good idea.
I could do it too. I would turn on the charm, be the perfect suitor. I’d done it a thousand times with teachers and parents. I could certainly convince this shy little girl that I was boyfriend material. Just as long as she didn't run off again.
From zero to boyfriend in under sixty seconds.
Damn if I didn't want to be just that. Didn’t matter how long it took. I’d never chased a girl in my life but this was different. Krista was different. I knew I’d do just about anything to make this girl mine.
Something occurred to me and I blurted out the words “You don't have a boyfriend, do you?” without even thinking. I was flooded with relief when she shook her head.
"Where are you from? I never get to see your… house."
I smirked at the blush that lit up her cheeks at the reminder. I wanted her to remember how intimate her nocturnal visits were. Innocent, but definitely personal.
She visited me in my bedroom often, but it was never the other way around. I smiled. I’d give anything to see the inside of her bedroom right about now.
"Louisiana."
"I'm from New Hampshire."
“Oh, I thought so.”
"How did you know?"
She shrugged, her dainty shoulders rising apologetically.
"I can sort of tell which way I'm going. Even if it's not deliberate."
"Oh, so you didn’t come looking for me on purpose?"
She blushed deeper and shook her head.
"No— I just sort of— find myself there."
I grinned wider as she turned even redder if that was possible. And then she stood up, clearly deciding the date was over. I was on my feet in a half a second, ready to follow her wherever she went.
Even if it was just to the ladies' room.
"Look, I should get back. Lots of homework and stuff."
That was bullshit. She was just trying to get out of the date. I raised an eyebrow and called her on it.
"It's the first week of school. There no way you have a lot of homework."
She looked away. I still had a stupid smile on my face. Even though she was trying to get away from me. I knew I probably looked like a fool but I didn't care.
"Yeah, but I have to work tomorrow so I need to do my homework tonight."
"Okay. Let me walk you."
She gave me a wary glance that said, 'I am onto you.'
This time I hid my smile. She was right. I did want to know which dorm she lived in. Anyway, it worked.
I followed her doggedly, keeping up a steady stream of chatter. She answered me cautiously, as if she was afraid to reveal too much of herself. Instead of annoying me for some reason I found it adorable, and slightly mysterious. Just like she was.
It was only a short walk to one of the large freshman dorms that lined the edges of campus. I stared up at Tanner Hall and smiled. Now I knew where to find her.
Bingo.
"Can I see you again soon?"
“Uh, yeah okay.”
Relief flooded my system. That had been easy.
"How about tomorrow?"
She shrugged.
"I work at the dining hall, remember? I'll be there tomorrow. You can lay eyes on me."
I grinned at her. She was being deliberately obtuse. She was so damned beautiful!
"No, I mean like this. On a date."
Her pretty lips popped open. I’d shocked her. Again.
"This was a date?"
I smiled wider and leaned toward her. I wanted to kiss those pretty lips. Hell, I wanted to do more than that.
Much much more.
Her eyes got as big as saucers as I got closer. She turned her head at the last possible moment, leaving me to kiss her cheek.
That was okay though. I was in the perfect spot to whisper in her ear, "Yes, Krista. It was."
She stared up at me, looking dazed.
“It was what?”
“A date.”
Chapter 12
Krista
A date. He wanted to go on a date with me.
I stood up and then sat down again, jumping back up immediately. I realized what I was doing and started pacing back and forth on my side of the room instead. I was always careful to try not and intrude on my roommate's side, but right now I wanted to run laps around the room.
Maybe bounce off the ceiling t
oo.
Haha, Krista. That would not go over too well.
"You okay?"
"Uh huh. I'm great. Never better."
Charisse gave me an odd look from her bed where she was lounging on a mound of pillows. She looked like a queen over there. A queen with an affection for pink.
Didn't matter if she thought I was crazy. I could not seem to sit still. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself.
He'd tried to kiss me. Just like in the dream. But this was better.
That gorgeous, impossibly real boy had tried to kiss me for real.
Only I’d turned my head at the last second. Because I was an idiot. He'd taken it in stride but the moment was ruined. But at least I’d avoided disaster, right? I wanted this to fade away, not encourage him.
Um… Why had I done that again?
Oh right, because this was all madness and we were clearly headed for the insane asylum.
Repeat it to yourself, Krista: kissing him would only make things worse. Well, not during the kiss. That would be nice. But after.
Post-kiss bedlam.
I stared at my desk until I realized the pages of my sketchbook were flipping. Without me touching them. I leaned forward and pressed my hands down on it but it had already stilled.
In fact, it had stopped on a sketch I had done right before coming here. A sketch of Dean. A sketch I drew before I even met him in real life.
What was happening to me?
I’d always known I was a bit odd. Different somehow. Nan had called me 'special' which had sounded good until I’d realized that often meant something entirely different.
So, special didn't quite fit either. My feet were firmly on the ground. When I was awake, anyway. I was a sensible, hardworking young woman.
Everybody knew that. I got straight A’s. I worked hard. I did my chores. I never complained.
So why did I feel like crying my eyes out because a cute guy had tried to kiss me?
Because I was crazy. I shook my head. One thing I definitely did not have, was loose screws.
But I did have this odd ability to travel in my dreams. It was a real thing, though not all that common. I’d looked it up.
It’s called astral projection apparently. But my nightly journeys seemed to go way beyond what the spiritual blogs described. It was supposed to be rare, even for people who did special meditations to achieve it.
So basically, I was a freak.
I never told a soul about the astral-whatever. Or the way small animals followed me around. Charisse had commented already on the birds that woke us up every morning. She’d wanted to shoo them away but I stopped her.
They were sweet. And they were just saying hello.
So why did I want to chase Dean away again? If I could deal with the birds and butterflies, why not a six-foot hunk?
Because he was different. He was connected to the dreams somehow, and that scared me.
I had never encountered the same person more than once. Oh, I did come across people now and then. They usually did not see me, or acknowledge me in anyway. I had a feeling they were usually half asleep. Or had just a trace of the abilities I had.
So, not one soul knew what I could do. Not my mother. And not even Nan.
Except for him.
I sat down heavily on the bed, remembering the first time I’d found myself in his room. I’d been drawn there without knowing why, just staring down at this beautiful boy. He'd opened his eyes. He’d seen me.
And smiled.
It had been like a shock to the system. After that, I hadn't been alone anymore. Somehow, just like that, we were together.
And now he was real, and he wanted to kiss me. Did he really want to date me? Sleep with me? I didn't know. I had never felt more vulnerable and exposed in my life.
For the first time, someone knew about me. My darkest secret. Someone normal. Oh yeah, he was mainstream. Dean was as true blue American as they came.
He should have been freaked out by the weird, dream-invading girl from the wrong side of the tracks.
But he wasn't.
In fact, he didn't seem to mind at all. He even seemed to like me for some reason, freakish nighttime abilities and all.
Of course, he didn't know the half of it. How far I travelled. How sometimes I seemed to know things before they happened, even when I was awake. How my hands got hot when I touched someone who was ailing.
Nan called it 'healing hands' and credited her vitality at seventy-five to my touch. I’d even laid hands on a dying bird in the backyard once. It had chirped at me and flown away.
Not far though. The silly bird came back to visit all the time for the next few years, reminding me of all the things that were wrong with me.
Unnatural things. And those things had been getting worse.
Dean didn't know any of that.
And he wasn't going to find out. Ever. Even if I did see him again, which I was very tempted to do. It was a terrible idea.
A terrible, wonderful, seductively dangerous idea.
I hadn't answered him about the date. Tomorrow I would see if there was another shift I could take. I hated to give up the good grub but it was for the best. Somewhere else on campus other than the sports complex. Anywhere else.
Then there would just be class to contend with. I could switch but— I sighed.
Who was I kidding?
I couldn't run from this. I couldn't run from him. And I wasn't even sure I wanted to. My feet felt as heavy as lead when he was around, especially when I was running away. I wanted to be around him, more than anything I’d ever felt before.
It was hopeless.
He already knew where I lived. He knew my name. And I could tell that he wasn't going to give up, no matter how many times I deflected his advances.
The scariest part was, I wasn't sure I wanted him to give up. Even if it was dangerous, and oh-so-stupid.
Once I’d admitted that to myself, I finally calmed down. I was thoughtful as I got ready for bed. I climbed in, bringing my sketchpad with me. It might seem odd to curl up with a pencil and a smudged up old pad of paper, but for once I didn't care what Charisse or anyone else thought.
I relied on my sketches as a link to the dream world. I would often draw what I saw when I woke up early in the morning or even in the middle of the night. It was like a record of my second life, one I hoped would someday make sense of my gift.
I had shoeboxes full of drawings at home. I’d just started this fresh sketch pad over the summer. It was already more than halfway full. There were half a dozen pictures of Dean inside it. He was that prominent in my dreams.
I opened the book again and stared at the one I’d drawn a few weeks ago. I stared at the drawing, not remembering the dream at all. It took me a moment to figure out what was bothering me about the finely drawn sketch.
When I realized what it was I gasped, dropping my pad as if it was on fire. The pages fluttered and I found myself staring, almost unable to look away.
All the pages were covered in black and white, plain graphite on paper. But not this sketch.
In this one drawing, Dean's eyes were red.
Chapter 13
Dean
The sky was dark and churning with clouds. I sat up in my suite, immediately aware that I was dreaming. I stared at my hand, turning it this way and that.
I was glowing faintly. I turned back and saw myself turn over in bed.
Yeah, dreaming. Like I did when Krista came. But… not.
Because she was nowhere to be found.
I turned in a circle, wondering what the hell I was supposed to do now. I glanced at the window and froze.
Someone was outside in the parking lot.
I ran to the window, nearly slamming into it. Right. Dream movements were a bit more erratic.
Slow your roll, Dean.
Then I saw her. A woman was down there, facing away. Staring up at the moon.
Krista.
I ran down the stairs, moving faster t
han I ever could in real life. I bounced against the wall as I took a corner too hard. I’d never tried to go anywhere in the dream before. It was going to take some getting used to.
I reached for the door, cursing as my hand was unable to grasp it. So, walls were solid, but I couldn’t grab the damn door?
Fantastic.
I blinked and suddenly I was outside, inches away from her. I stared at her slender back, and the soft waves that seemed even longer than usual. My fingers slid through them, reaching for her shoulder.
She turned.
It was not Krista.
She looked a hell of a lot like her though.
I frowned, staring at her in confusion. The woman was older, but still beautiful. Her features were softer than Krista’s but so similar I could not look away.
She spoke to me without opening her mouth. Her voice was sweet and so sad it broke my heart. But what she said made me rear back in fear and anger. I ran into the building without even pausing to try the door.
A moment later I sat up in my bed. I remembered everything. The woman. My panic at her words.
Everything but what she told me.
Chapter 14
Krista
Here we go again.
I grabbed the dirty apron and folded it into a neat roll, almost eager to get to work. I was full of a strange energy today. My dreams had been extra active and had woken me at dawn.
Last night, I’d gone traveling farther than ever before.
I hadn't been able to fall back asleep, all the images inside me screaming to be let out, recorded, made sense of.
Plus, I knew I would see him again today.
I’d given up on sleep early, sitting in bed and working on my sketch pad. Once I’d realized Dean wasn’t making an appearance in my dream, I’d gone exploring on my own.
I’d checked up on Nan, who always seemed to smile when I was in the room with her. I didn’t know if she sensed me or not. She never said a word about it. She'd give a funny smile, as if she knew a secret, but that was all. Even if she was asleep, Nan would get restless when I came to visit.
Original Witch (Dreamshifters Book 1) Page 4