Dream Student (Dream Series book 1)

by J.J. DiBenedetto

  “I’m here, Sara. You’re fine. You’re in the hospital.” He looks really tired. I can just see, there’s Mom standing right behind him. And Beth is next to her, I think.

  I must have laughed. “What’s so funny?” Beth asks. It’s definitely probably her.

  “Mom’s the same height as me, did you know that? She looks just like me, and you look just like you, so you look like you and me standing next to each other.”

  Dad whispers something to them. I think I hear the words “pain medication” but I’m not sure.

  “Why am I in the hospital?” Did something happen to me? Why does my right leg look so much bigger than my left? I’m really confused…

  ***

  I remember everything, right up to the moment when the police came. Beth is sitting next to me, and she’s just now filling me in on what happened after that. She doesn’t wait for me to ask about Brian; that’s the first thing she tells me.

  “He’s fine. He had a concussion, but that was all. They kept him overnight, but they made him go home yesterday.” She squeezes my hand. “He wanted to stay, but you were still in Intensive Care and they wouldn’t let him, and then his father showed up and took him back to campus.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “Downstairs in the gift shop. Buying you flowers, I think.” Of course he is.

  I love him.

  “What about–what about Rebecca?” I want to ask if she talked about what happened before we found her but I don’t think I want to know.

  “She’s going to be fine, too.” Beth knows what I’m not asking. “He didn’t–didn’t do anything. I mean, besides what we saw.” I sigh. That’s something, anyway. Actually, it’s a lot.

  “And Dr. Walters is in jail,” she continues. I don’t really want to know any more than that. I don’t ever want to think about him ever again, if I can help it.

  “And–this is important,” she says, whispering now. “I told the police what happened. I told them I wanted to visit him, because he was my favorite professor. You and Brian came with me and when we got to the front door we heard Rebecca, and the door was open so we went inside.”

  What a load of crap. Not that I would have done any better. “They believed that?”

  She grins. “Under the circumstances, I don’t think they really cared why we were there. But it’s better if you tell them the same thing. I already told Brian.”

  I just now notice her left hand is bandaged. “What happened to you?”

  “Oh,” she shrugs. “Nobody was home in either house next door, or across the street. Then he drove up, and I kind of freaked out. I picked up a garden gnome and smashed the living room window of that house across the street, and I called 911 from there. I cut myself climbing in through the broken window.”

  That actually is kind of funny, but I don’t have the energy to laugh. “So what happened to me?”

  That’s less funny. “Your right ankle is broken, you’re probably going to have that cast for six weeks or so. And you’ve got some bruised ribs. And,” she’s fighting to suppress a giggle. “A laceration of your left buttock. You landed on a nail when you went down the stairs.”

  “I don’t understand. That’s not funny.” I don’t think I appreciate her laughing at my injuries.

  “No, it’s not.” Except obviously it somehow is. “Just–I guess you better not ever break up with Brian, otherwise you’ll have to explain to your next boyfriend why you’ve got a scar on your butt.” If I had enough energy, I’d try to sit up and smack her.

  Brian picks that moment to walk in the door, bouquet in hand. “Those are so pretty,” I say. “So nice. Come here.”

  Beth takes the flowers out of his hand as he leans over me. I can’t pull myself up, but–I don’t have to. Brian’s found the lever to raise me up, and now my head is level with his, and he kisses me.

  “I was so scared, when you fell. I saw you were breathing, but–God, I don’t ever want to lose you.” That was the worst moment out of all of it, that first instant when I didn’t know if he was–if he was alive.

  “I don’t want to lose you, either. Why don’t we just never lose each other, how about that?”

  I kiss him; it seems like a good answer.

  It’s all the answer either of us needs.

  Epilogue: The Sure Thing

  (May 31-June 1, 1990)

 

  I’m sitting on my bed, looking at my cast. I don’t know why I kept it, but there it is on the floor, over in the corner.

  I remember Beth telling me I’d have it for six weeks. I actually had it for nine, and I think I reminded her about that every single day past six weeks until it came off. She laughed, I think, every single time I did, too.

  I don’t know how I’ll ever pay her back for everything she did–for helping me around for nine weeks. For all of it. It’s funny, but I think the responsibility she took on in taking care of me really agrees with her. She must have thought so too, because she applied to be an RA next year.

  She wasn’t the only one who helped me, either. There was poor George, although that wasn’t really by choice. A week after–well, after “it” happened, he slipped on an icy patch of sidewalk and broke his leg in two places. Somehow hobbling around with a cast felt just a little bit easier knowing someone else in the dorm was going through it with me. And we became physical therapy buddies–three times a week right up until the semester ended.

  Then there was Mona, who took time out of her insanely busy schedule to help me study for the MCATs when it was–quite literally–painfully obvious that I wasn’t going to be able to make it to the official review sessions. Melanie and Janet joined me, in a very touching show of solidarity. Melanie and I buried the hatchet, too.

  Even so, I guess I should be honest and admit that I took great pleasure in scoring higher than Melanie. For the record, I did really well–a 73, which put me in the 96th percentile. Which means I’ll probably have my choice of where to go for medical school, and I’ve got a great shot at the Livingston scholarship, too.

  Jackie and her father helped by not pushing me about exactly what happened or how I knew what I knew. I think, after Dr. Walters was caught, she finally understood how lucky she was just to be alive, and she took that to heart. Her father did, too; he also did everything in his power to get the police to accept the story Beth cooked up at face value.

  That was much easier after Dr. Walters pled guilty. According to the newspaper, he did it as part of a deal so that he would “only” get life plus fifty years in prison rather than the electric chair, or however they execute people these days. He’ll never, ever get out of prison, and that’s good enough for me.

  Beth and Brian and I all got harassed quite a bit by reporters, for a little while at least. Until another friend came to our aid. John convinced his friend Natalie the law student to try and get the reporters off our backs. I don’t know what she did or said–I think she might have gotten one of her professors to help, too–but it worked.

  It turns out I was right about the two of them, as well. Diana broke up with John, and he finally noticed that Natalie liked him. I’m glad, for her even more than for him–us older women with an eye for younger men have to stick together!

  Over and above everyone else, every single day, there was Brian. He was so patient, so kind. He was everything I needed–everything I still need.

  Life is pretty much back to normal. I’m just barely limping now; on good days you can’t even tell. On really good days, sometimes even I forget that I’ve got two metal screws in my foot and another one in my ankle.

  I still haven’t seen the other physical reminder of what happened–my new scar. Beth offered, repeatedly, to take a picture of it for me. Brian says it’s hardly noticeable at all; if you didn’t know it was there you wouldn’t even see it. I’m not really worried about that; nobo
dy besides him is going to be seeing it anyway!

  I still think about it all, obviously. But it’s just memories now. They don’t have any power anymore. I don’t wake up screaming, I don’t walk around in terror. And most importantly, my nights belong to me again. I haven’t had a dream that’s not my own since that last night before we saved Rebecca…

  ***

  …Sara is in a backyard. The sun is shining, the grass is green. There’s a grill, with smoke issuing from it; there’s a little fountain gurgling away. There’s a big round metal table with an umbrella over it.

  She knows this place–it’s Brian’s backyard. And there he is, with his father, and Sara’s father.

  “I know how old I am!” Brian says. “And I know how old she is, too. She’s almost twenty two, and that’s the same age her Mom was when…” he says to Sara’s father.

  Sara’s father holds up a hand, interrupting him. “We’re not going to talk you out of it, I know better than that,” he says.

  “There’s no point,” he then says to Brian’s father. “Even if we did, she’d probably just go ahead and ask him.” Sara’s father produces a small box from his pocket. “As long as you’re going to do it, you may as well do it properly. This was my mother’s–her grandmother’s.”

  He hands the box to Brian…

  ***

  I wake up completely refreshed, completely relaxed. I shower and dress and the smell of bacon leads me down to the kitchen. Mom is just sitting down to her breakfast; Dad and Bob must have eaten already.

  I go to her and give her a hug. “What’s that for?” she asks, a hint of suspicion in her voice.

  “Nothing,” I say. “Just–could you take me over to the salon this morning? If you ask them, they’ll fit me in today, right?”

  She’s very suspicious now. “The salon? Why?”

  “No reason,” I answer. “Brian’s just coming over later, and–well, I want to look my best, that’s all.” It’s very important that I do. It’s time to let Gretchen out for a little while. “Oh, and can I borrow your diamond earrings again?”

  “Sara Katarina Barnes, you tell me what’s going on!” She already knows, I think. She just can’t quite wrap her mind around it. I don’t blame her. It is kind of a big deal. It’s six months to the day that we met, and what more appropriate time is there than that?

  “There’s nothing going on, Mom. I want to look nice for my boyfriend, that’s all. And I guess I’m just in a good mood today. You know, I had the most wonderful dream last night…”

  Sara’s adventures continue in book 2 of this series, “Dream Doctor”

  Look for it at:

  www.writingdreams.net

  If you enjoyed “Dream Student”, please be sure to leave a review, and/or drop me a line at jamesd@elevendayempire.com. You can also visit my website at www.writingdreams.net and sign up to receive news and updates about the Dream Series. Thank you!

  If you really enjoyed it, you’ll love the audiobook edition of “Dream Student” narrated by the amazing Heather Jane Hogan. Please visit my website: https://www.writingdreams.net/audio to hear a ten minute sample.

  Acknowledgements

  So many people made this book possible, and much better than I could have made it on my own.

  First, obviously, my wonderful wife Cathey, without whose support it wouldn’t exist at all.

  Second, my friends who saw the original drafts of this book too many years ago to think about, and who helped Sara Barnes come to life: Tim, Chris, Jodi, James, Jack, Steve, Gene, Greg, Jenna and others who I’m sure I’m unforgivably leaving out–if I missed you, I’m truly sorry!

  Third, Jodi Roosenraad, who read every word of this book multiple times and whose editing, advice and encouragement made Sara a better, stronger character, and made the book as a whole far better than it had any right to be.

  Fourth, everyone in the various writing and critique groups, especially the GoodReads Beta Reading Group. There are too many individuals to name, but thanks to all of you for your advice and encouragement.

  Fifth, my friends and classmates at Case Western Reserve University, and especially in Raymond House. Although Sara, Brian and Beth are completely fictional and entirely my creation, some of the people who populate their world were inspired (with deep affection) by real people. So, to George, Jim, Jim, Regina, Andy, Maria, Martin, Dan, Kim, Justin, Glenn, Julie, Julie, Tara, Kat, Lisa, Anne and Natalie, thank you for your cameo appearances, and for making Sara’s world a little more real and a lot more interesting.

  Sixth, Ami Low, who did a spectacular job designing and illustrating the cover for this book. And also Emma Michaels, who did a fantastic job creating the alternate cover you can see on the book now.

  Seventh, anyone who I’ve forgotten or left out, and I know there are a lot of you, please forgive me!

  Finally, it should be self-evident, but this is a work of fiction, and the events of this book are entirely made up. Any resemblance between the characters in this book and any real person is purely coincidental.

  (Ami Low’s original, handpainted cover for the first edition of “Dream Student”)

  About the Author

  J.J. (James) DiBenedetto is a marketing professional by day and novelist by night. He lives in lovely Arlington, Virginia with his beautiful wife and a tortoise-shell cat who runs the house. “Dream Student” is his first novel.

  About the Artist

  Ami Low is a freelance illustrator, painter, muralist and graphic designer. Her amazing work can be seen not only on the cover of this book, but in finer homes across the Washington, DC metro area and the East Coast.  She lives in Leesburg, Virginia with her husband and two children.  She can be contacted at alow.arts@yahoo.com.

  About the Cover

  Emma Michaels is an extremely talented cover artist, as well as a novelist in her own right. Visit her at her website: https://www.emmamichaels.com