Natalie Cuddington
We’re running through the halls so quickly that I don’t have a chance to admire the beauty of the new corridors we haven’t been down yet. One of them makes our breathing and footsteps echo around us so loudly that it’s all I can focus on. The next hallway is made of glass and has high ceilings that look right outside, and the white moonlight is shining down on us, leading our way. I want to stop and look at everything, take a break, but Chance is too eager, and he pulls me along at a pace that’s almost too fast for me.
We finally come to the end of the glass hallway and open a glass door, which leads to a set of spirally stairs, in the middle of a rounded tower. The stairs are made of a glittery metal and they clink with every step we take. I shudder the higher we rise, afraid of it falling apart beneath us.
“It won’t break,” Chance says carefully. “The guy who’s in charge of this place, likes his privacy. A lot of people are afraid of walking up these, which he did on purpose. It’s not dangerous, just designed to keep most people away.”
“Why doesn’t he like people?”
“It’s not that he doesn’t like people. There’s just a lot of people in this place. And he’s the one everyone wants to talk to or ask questions to. It gets pretty busy for him even without everyone bombarding him with silly little things. This keeps the real serious people the only ones going to see him.”
“Oh.”
I take another step and the creak is so loud that I have to hold onto the railing and stop to take a breath. I look down at my feet and can see through the stairs, all the way to the bottom. It’s a long way. Chance puts his arm around my waist and it’s all I notice beyond the fear of falling to my death.
“It’s ok,” he says.
“I think I just need a minute,” I breathe. My hands are shaking against the metal of the railing and I hope that he doesn’t notice.
“The stairs won’t break, but if you keep looking down, you might lose your balance.”
I try to laugh, but it just comes out as a weird cracking groan. “I didn’t realize I was afraid of heights.”
“Come on, you’ll be fine. We’re almost there.”
I gulp and take a shaky step up onto the next stair, Chance’s hand still gripping my waist. My knuckles are white against the rest of my skin, as I grab the railing tighter than I thought was possible. I try to drag my hand up it instead of letting go and grabbing it again with each step. It’s not working very well.
“I’m steady, Becca, you can hold on to me if you want.”
I wrap my arm around his back and grab a fist full of his t-shirt, trying to swallow this fear. I feel like such a child.
Slow and steady, we finally reach the top, and I don’t even want to look back. I’m still shaking and I’m starting to feel a little light headed. We go through a heavy metal door that bangs shut behind us, and we’re standing in the middle of an office with tall ceilings that go up to a point. There is an old wooden desk in the middle of the room with a computer on it that looks like it’s from the future. I can see an old man sitting on the other side of it, his face a little cloudy through the transparent monitor. He’s touching the screen and moving images around, not even noticing that we’ve come in.
“Sir?” Chance tries.
The old man looks up at us and smiles. His thick, grey beard is short and trimmed cleanly on his face, but his long hair is tucked behind his ears.
“Mr. Burman, what a nice surprise.” He turns to me and his smile grows. “Ah, and our newest Aura! It’s a pleasure.” He stands and reaches a wrinkled hand across his desk to me. I take a step forward and give it a firm shake.
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
“I’m Arthur.”
“Becca,” I reply. “Uh, McIntyre.” For some reason I feel the need to add my last name since he greeted Chance with his last name.
“I know who you are, sweetheart. But what brings you all the way up that dreadful staircase?”
“Um, actually, sir, I wanted to talk to you about her,” Chance says.
Arthur waves a hand at Chance as he sits back down. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?”
“Sorry sir.” Arthur gives him a look, and Chance corrects himself. “Arthur.”
“Good.” He rests his hands in his lap, his smile still as bright as when we came in. “What did you need to talk about?”
“Becca read my mind… While I was awake.”
“Did she now?” He sounds intrigued. And me? I’m just trying not to let my head explode.
“Yeah,” Chance says.
“Well, that’s wonderful!”
“What does it mean?” I ask.
“It means you’re very powerful. We’ve had Auras who can read the minds of those awake; they are just harder to come by.”
“That’s it?” I suddenly feel a little disappointed.
“Well, it’s very helpful when you’re dream jumping.”
“Dream jumping?”
“Sorry,” Chance steps in. “I didn’t get to all the terms yet. Yesterday when we were in that room with all the nightmares, that’s called dream jumping.”
I nod.
“And that room is called Nightlife.”
“But there’s a bunch of them, right?” I ask.
“Right. So that particular one was actually Nightlife Five.”
“And Five’s your favourite.”
Chance smiles and I can’t help but smile back. “Right.”
“Anyway,” Arthur interrupts. “When you’re in a nightmare, and you want to get inside the Malevolents’ heads, it’ll be much easier for you. Entering a person’s mind is less strenuous for you. It’s easier to read them, and take over their minds.”
“Well that’s good,” Chance says.
“Very. Just be careful.” Arthur says it with a hint of concern in his voice.
“Why?” I ask.
“If the Lents find out how strong you are, they might want you on their side.”
“Well I’ll just tell them no,” I say shortly.
Arthur smirks. “It’s not always that easy. But again, you have a very strong mind, so I’m sure you’ll be able to push them out if you need to. Make them see it your way.” He winks at me and goes back to his computer.
We walk back out to the staircase in the very tall tower, and I look down at how far we have to go.
“It’s not so bad on the way down,” Chance says.
“I think it might be worse.”
“No really, it’s not as bad.”
“But I can see all the way to the bottom without even trying,” I say.
“Just trust me.”
He starts down the stairs and I take in a deep breath and follow him. I step down onto the first stair and am surprised at how sturdy it is. It doesn’t creek or feel like it’s going to break. So I go down to the next step, and it feels strong.
“See?” He’s smiling, looking back at me with one hand gently resting on the railing.
When we get back to my house, it’s only just after noon, even though we were in Rem for hours.
“I’m just going to veg and watch some Netflix,” I say, twirling my keys around my fingers.
“Ok.”
“But uh, thanks for today.”
“Anytime.” He smiles and starts to walk away, but I call out to him before he reaches the end of my driveway. He stops and turns back to look at me.
“I want to tell you all about Adam. I do,” I say. “Just not yet.”
“I want to tell you about him, too.”
I’m watching old movies on Netflix when the doorbell rings. I put my popcorn aside and make my way to the front door. I’m surprised to see Zac standing there, looking smug in his half open button down shirt, revealing his wonderful, smooth, muscular chest.
“How did you know where I live?” are the first words out of my mouth.
“Nice to see you too,” he replies. “Can I come in?”
“No, you can’t come in.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t know you.”
“Aww, come on, we got to know each other pretty well last night.”
Last night? Oh, I guess his party was just last night. The slow time thing in Rem is really throwing me off. “Look,” I start. “I had fun at your party, I really did, and the kissing was… fun, but I really think I just need some space. It’s really not like me, to drink and make out with people I hardly know, so if you don’t mind, I think taking things a little slower would be a good idea.”
“Chance told you about me, didn’t he?”
“What do you mean?”
“He told you I was bad, didn’t he?”
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
“No I’m not.”
“Ok, well you are, but so was he.”
“What?” I’m confused.
“Chance is lying to you, Becca.”
“About what?”
“Can we please just stop playing dumb for a minute? Can we be honest with each other?”
“I am being honest.”
“Why don’t we go for a walk?”
I want to say no. I almost say no, but instead, I nod and step outside.
Zac’s beat up Taurus is in my driveway and he walks right to the driver side, stops, and then looks at me when he sees I’m not moving.
“I thought you wanted to go for a walk,” I say.
He shrugs. “Walk, drive, what’s the difference?”
“Well, there’s a big difference.”
“Becca, please.” His voice is so hurtful. So full of this whiney tone that only tells me how much he wishes I would just listen to him. “This is important.”
“Fine.” I sigh and get in the car. It smells faintly of sweat, and I’m not sure why, until I see an open gym bag in the back seat. “Ever heard of an air freshener?” I ask.
“Yeah, but they’re girly. Come on, it’s not that bad.” He starts the car and backs out of the driveway. We don’t say anything until we get on the highway, and once we’re on it, the traffic is stopped.
“This is weird,” he says. “It’s Saturday afternoon; everyone should be at their cottages already!”
“Well at least there’s time to talk.”
He sighs and looks at me. “Becca, Chance is not who you think he is.”
“What do you mean?”
“Stop pretending like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I know he’s taken you to Rem.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I’m one of them, Becca. One of the good ones.”
“No, but Rem is the good one.”
“No it isn’t.” The traffic moves a little bit and he turns his eyes to the road and stops talking until the cars have come to a halt again. “Rem is the bad one, and Dredd is the good one.”
“How can nightmares be good? I mean, you guys are called Malevolents, for christ’s sake.”
“No we’re not, that’s just what they call us.”
“Then what are you called?”
“We don’t call ourselves anything. Why do we have to put a label on it?”
“Fine, you don’t call yourselves anything, but you just called your world Dredd.”
“Yeah. D-R-E-D-D,” he spells. “It doesn’t mean dread like dreadful.”
“What does it mean, then?”
He shrugs. “It means the opposite. It means awesome. Amazing!”
I’m starting to get a little nervous being trapped in the car with him. The traffic moves again and I watch as Zac moves his right foot from the brake to the gas. His hands are placed gently on the wheel, like he’s just resting them there, and not really steering.
“Tell me why nightmares are good, then,” I say.
“Because!” He sounds excited now. “They give you an adrenaline rush! They help you see real things when you wake up! Enjoy life more. Make you grateful for what you have!”
“That sounds like bullshit to me.”
“Have you ever had an awesome dream that made you depressed when you woke up?”
“What do you mean?”
The traffic stops again and he looks at me, his blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “Don’t you ever have those dreams where you’re dating some hot celebrity? Or you’re like, the queen of the universe of something? Some awesome, kick ass dream, that you’re sure is real?”
“Sure,” I shrug.
“Well don’t you ever wake up from those dreams and think for half a second that it actually happened?”
I nod slowly, sort of starting to see his point.
“Well when you realize it was just a dream, you’re really bummed, aren’t you? It’s like your whole world sort of crashes down. That’s why dreams are bad. Nightmares are what the world needs to flourish. These fluffy dream people, they don’t get it.”
The traffic starts to move again, and this time it’s steady at about 60km/h for a few minutes.
“So you don’t actually think I’m beautiful, then,” I finally say.
He looks at me for a second, and then darts his eyes back to the road. “What?”
“You were just saying I was beautiful so I would like you, and trust you, and go to your side.”
He shakes his head. “Uh, no. I was saying you’re beautiful because you’re beautiful. I do want you to trust me, and come to our side, but I would never lie to you to do that. This is why I’m worried, Becca. Chance is messing with your head, and making you think I’m this creep when I’m not.”
“He isn’t messing with my head. It’s just that…” I stop for a second, working up the courage to say when I’m about to say. “No one has ever called me beautiful before. And you’re really hot. It just doesn’t fit.”
“Maybe you just haven’t given anyone a chance to call you beautiful. You ever think of that?”
The traffic stops again and he looks at me with this gorgeous smirk on his face. Is that true? Was I just always so wrapped up in my own world in Toronto, that I never paid attention to anyone who might have paid attention to me? No, I wasn’t unapproachable, I just stuck to myself most of the time. I mean, I had friends, I hung out with a few other girls at school sometimes… He’s making me think about this too much. I’m about to reply, even though I haven’t even thought about what I want to say, but he hits his hands on the steering wheel in frustration before I get a word out.
“Ugh, I’ve had enough of this, I’m getting off,” he says as he changes lanes. Once the cars start moving again, he pulls onto the off ramp. “We should get some food or something.”
We pull into a parking lot that looks like it’s attached to a beach. We get out and I see families and teenagers all spread out in the sand, probably trying to soak up the last of the sun before the fall weather really sets in. I can hear kids laughing and the waves rolling in on the shore, and the smell of wet sand in the air is nice. There’s a frozen yogurt stand in the middle of the beach, so Zac buys me a banana and peanut butter one in a cup, and he gets raspberry. We walk along the beach, but not in the water, since we’re still wearing our shoes. I want to keep talking to him about it, but I don’t want random people listening in.
“Can’t we go somewhere private?” I ask.
“Sure.”
We walk off the beach, into the grass and across the road, where there’s an empty park with a gazebo and a bench. We sit down and I take a bite of my frozen yogurt.
“I don’t want you getting caught up in the wrong world,” he says softly.
“I… I don’t really know what to say now.”
He sets his cup down and moves closer to me. I stare into his eyes, and let him gently take my frozen yogurt from me. He sets it on the ground by our feet, and brushes the hair out of my face, carefully tucking it behind my ear. Some of it falls back over my face, and he tries again. I can’t help but let my gaze wander down to his moist lips.
“Say that you trust me,” he whispers, his mouth now by my ear.
“I don’t know who to trust,” I admit. Chance has been really nice. And helpful. And he’s been understanding, and he knew my brother. That means that if Chance is evil, my brother was evil, and that’s not right. My brother would never be evil. Unless Chance and Adam were never on the same side. But no, this can’t be right. Rem is such a wonderful place. It’s so magical. And Chance is nice, so he can’t be evil. But Zac is nice, too. I don’t remember him ever not being nice. Plus he’s extremely good looking.
“Trust me,” he says softly, his breath on the side of my face. I get goose bumps down my neck and my fingertips start to tingle. Zac can’t be evil. Maybe neither of them is evil, and they just think the other ones are. Maybe they both serve their purposes. Maybe Zac is good. Zac is good. He trails his hand down my neck and slowly down my arm, finally resting it on my hip. He gently kisses me under my ear and I shiver, grabbing his strong arm, and tracing it with my fingertips. He kisses me again on the neck and then moves his mouth to mine, gently kissing my lips. His mouth is cold and tastes like raspberries, and I suddenly feel like I can’t get enough of him. I don’t even realize what it is I’m doing, until I’m doing it, but I run my hands down his shoulders, and along his partly exposed chest, feeling the muscles under my palms. I slip my hand under his shirt and run my fingers along his tight chest. He grabs my waist and tugs me up onto the bench more, swinging my legs up so that I can lie down. He’s on top of me now, but still kissing me gently, like he’s trying to be careful. My hands are running all over him, but his are still in place on my hip. I like that he’s being a gentleman about this. I like that he’s keeping his hands to himself. I’m fine with just kissing. I grab his hand and gently move it so that it’s flirting with the bottom of my shirt. Why did I just do that? He pulls back a little bit and looks as me.
“Are you sure?” he asks. “I don’t want to move too fast for you.”
“I’m sure.” No, I’m not sure. I don’t want him to. His hand trails up my side and it feels good, but I don’t want him to. I like it, but I want it to stop. I stop kissing him and shake my head before his hand goes any further. “I changed my mind,” I say, out of breath. “It’s too fast. I’m new at this kind of thing.”
“I’ll keep it right here,” he whispers, and kisses me again. His hand stays on the middle of my side, under my shirt.
I hear someone ‘woo’ nearby, and I instinctively push Zac off me, and sit up, instantly scooting away from him on the bench.
“Don’t worry about them,” he says.
“Sorry, but I do.”
“Well you shouldn’t.”
I stand up and start walking back across the street. “Don’t tell me what to think.”
Zac was in my head, I know it. He was making me want him to go further. He was making me want him to touch me. I didn’t want it, I knew I didn’t. He catches up to me and grabs my shoulder, spinning me around.
“Are you mad at me?” he asks.
“No.” I smile, trying to pretend that nothing’s wrong. I’ve decided I want him thinking I trust him until I get this figured out. Keep your enemies close, right? “Sorry, I was just embarrassed. Do you mind if you take me home?”
He sighs. “Sure.”
The highway’s clear the other way, and we coast down the road in silence. I want to know if he was in my head. I want to know if he was making me ok with him touching me. If I was the one who fought that off because I have a strong mind. I want to know what he’s thinking. What is he thinking?
And then I hear it. The word break, like someone is saying it through the window. It’s muffled, but I’m sure it’s the word break. I try to listen harder, and will myself to want it more. I want to know what he’s thinking.
Man, it’s hard to break this one.
Full on sentence. BAM! I just heard him think a sentence. Whaaat!? Check me out, bitches! But what does that mean? It’s hard to break this one. Is he talking about me? Of course he’s talking about me. Does he use mind control on all the girls he hooks up with? Does he feel better about himself if the girls think they want it?
“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know.” Zac rips me from my thoughts. Or rather, his thoughts.
“Embarrassed about what?”
“About not being with anyone.”
“I’m not embarrassed about that,” I say.
“You said you were, back in the gazebo.”
“No, I was embarrassed that people were watching.”
“Oh.”
“We shouldn’t be making out on top of each other right in the open like that.”
“So you want to go back to my place, then?”
I want to tell him no. I do. But there’s another part of me that wants to say yes. And I know that part isn’t Zac. It’s me. Because I want to see how far I can get into his head. How much I can block him. I want to see if I can make him want something.
“Yeah, let’s go back to your place,” I say with a hopefully convincing smile.
Every so often, I hear the word break. Muffled, but there. Break. He wants to break through my head. He wants me to want him. He wants me to have sex with him. Well it’s not going to happen. We finally get to his house and we walk up the steps side by side, and I try harder to get back into his head, but all I hear is break. Again.
Break.
Break her.
Break.
Fucking Auras.
Whoa, that was a new one. I grab his hand and lean into him. He squeezes back and opens the front door, leading up me the stairs to his room.
“Can we talk for a bit first?” I ask him.
“Sure. Do you want to talk about the dream stuff?”
“Yeah.” What are you thinking? What are you thinking? What are you thinking?
Tell her how much you like her. “I really like you.”
“That’s great,” I say. “But that has nothing to do with dreams.”
He leans in and tries to kiss me, but I back away.
“You said we could talk first,” I say sternly.
“Sorry. You’re just…” He licks his lips and runs his hand through his hair. “You’re so beautiful, I can’t help myself.”
“Try.”
He smirks and touches his eyebrow with his index finger. Fucking Auras.
I can’t help but make a face at it this time. I know he notices me reacting to what I heard, but I try to cover it up. I grab his shirt and pull him into me for a kiss but I only let it last a few seconds. “There,” I say. “Are you good for a bit?”
“Aww, that just teased me.”
“Sorry, that’s all you get.”
I sit down on his bed and run my fingers along the blue comforter. It’s starting to wear in some spots; he must have had it for a long time. I want him to sit next to me so I can read him easier. I’m trying so hard to hear him think but he’s too far away when we’re across the room from each other. He’s obviously evil; I’ve figured that out already, but I want to find a way to get him to back off. And I want to see how good I am at this while I don’t seem to be in so much danger, since we’re not in a nightmare. And if he doesn’t do things with girls without making them think they want it, so I’m sure he won’t hurt me.
“Can you tell me about this nightmare thing?” I ask. “From your side? I don’t know who to trust.”
“I told you already.” It has to be her idea.
“So… How do you get there?”
“Get where?” he asks.
“To the nightmare world?”
“I can show you.” A beautiful smirk grows on his face, but at this point, it sort of scares me.
“No, not right now,” I say. “I’ve had enough magical land visits for today.”
“We don’t have to go for long.”
I can actually feel him trying to get inside my head this time. I can feel like it like a creeping headache, only it’s right in the middle of my brain, somewhere I could never touch. I can hear his thoughts trying to reach mine, trying to persuade them. I focus on it as hard as I can, making sure to want it.
You want to come with me. You want to come with me. You want to come with me.
“I think I’m going to go home,” I say, which actually proves to be very difficult. I know I wanted to say it, but it’s like I didn’t want to. Like I actually wanted to tell him that I wanted to go with him.
“But we haven’t made out in private yet.” He steps across the room and puts his hands on my waist, leaning down and pressing his forehead to mine.
“You just want to see how far you can get with me,” I whisper. “And I’m telling you right now, that it’s nowhere.”
“What?” He grips my waist a bit tighter and doesn’t let me walk away. I try to pretend that I don’t care. That I like it. “I thought you liked me.”
“I do, Zac. But I know your type. I know what you want. I’m not having sex with you.”
He sighs and steps back. “I’m not expecting you to have sex with me, Becca. I like you. I like kissing you.” He steps back into me and his voice is softer. “I love kissing you, actually. I love your lips, and your tongue, and the curve of your hips…”
And we’re kissing. His hands are on my face and my hands are on his back and we’re standing in the middle of his room, kissing. Like I wanted to. I wanted to. I didn’t want to. I don’t want to. But I’m doing it. And I like it. Crap, this mind control thing is hard. Maybe I shouldn’t have come back to his place with him. I should have just asked me to take him home, and not try to take matters into my own hands. Because now we’re on his bed and I want him to go farther. Except I don’t want him to go farther.
“Just kissing,” I manage to whisper into his lips. It takes all the energy out of me, but I do it.
“Just kissing,” he repeats, keeping his hands from wandering.
He takes me home about an hour later. And it’s true, we just kissed. We made out, rolling around on his bed, but that was it. Clothes didn’t come off. Hands didn’t go under clothes, and there weren’t even any attempts. I tried to feel if he was pushing himself into my head again, but I didn’t feel any of it. I just felt like it was a lot of fun kissing this insanely hot guy. And it was nice not having him make me feel self-conscious about myself.
We’re standing on my front porch, and I can hear crickets in the distance. The streetlight down the road flickers and we’re left in darkness, because my mom hasn’t turned on the porch light.
“Can I put my number in your phone?” he asks.
I take it out of my purse and hand it to him, and he when hands it back, I look to see that he put his name in as Zac <3
Cute.
“Do you trust me?” he asks.
I just nod, tucking my phone back into my purse.
“And can you do me a favour?” he adds.
“What?”
“Next time you feel a nightmare coming on, don’t fight it.” He lightly grabs my chin with his thumb and index finger, forcing me to look into his eyes. “Embrace it.”
“Ok. I will.” And I will. Not because I trust him, and not because I want him to think that I trust him. But because I want to kick his fucking ass.
Sunday’s a slower day. Chance texts me and asks how it’s going, but I take a while to reply. When I do, I just tell him I’m having a girl’s day with my mom. I’m not sure why I don’t want to see him, but I just feel like I need a bit of a break from the dream stuff. I know it was only two days that I was there, but it was two full days, and then I had to come home to two more full days because time stands freaking still in Rem. I am honestly exhausted.
Of course, my mom and I aren’t having a girl’s day. She’s in her office, working, and shutting out the world, like she’s always done since Adam died. She can’t come to terms with it, even today, four years later. Like, I know it must suck losing your kid, and your first born kid at that, but I lost my brother and my best friend. And I’m normal. Can’t she see that I’m still here? She hasn’t lost both of us. But sometimes it makes me feel like she thinks she has.
So I spend the day watching movies on Netflix and eating air popped popcorn. I want to eat something greasy, but I’ve eaten horrible all week, so the worst stuff I’m allowing myself to have is air popped popcorn with a little bit of butter. Except by the end of the day I’m putting on a lot of butter.
“Why don’t you eat some real food?” my mom says at around 5:00pm.
“This is real food.”
“No it isn’t.” She takes the bowl away from me. “Eat an apple.”
“You eat an apple.” I snatch the bowl back from her and make my way back to the couch. I hate being in the house with my mom when she’s acting all depressy. August was ok, because school was starting soon and she was so busy nagging me around and buying me school supplies, that she didn’t have time to think about Adam, or think about the work she uses to distract herself from him. But now that school’s started and she can’t think of anything to get me to do that might be useful, it’s back to locking herself in her office and pretending she’s ok.
“You’ve been doing so well with eating right and going for jogs, what happened?” she asks.
“You were doing so well not being depressed. What happened?”
“That’s not fair.” Her eyes are welling up with tears.
“It is too fair. You’re not the only one who lost someone, mom. Dad did too. And so did I. I don’t want to keep having this conversation with you all the time, so can you please go see someone?”
“I’m allowed to not be ok.”
“I know you are. But don’t you want to be ok?”
I don’t see Chance on the way to school, but I do see Zac. He drives up beside me in his car and rolls the window down as he slows to almost a stop, keeping pace with me.
“Do you want a ride?”
“No, I’m ok thanks, I need the exercise.”
“I don’t think you do,” he says.
“No, I really do. What with all the unhealthy food you bought me last week.”
He smirks. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. There are cars behind you, you know.”
He looks back at the line of cars behind him. “Shit. Fine. See you in history.”
“Yup.”
I make it into the school and start to get a gagging feeling in the back of my throat. My ears start to ring, just faintly, and I feel itchy. Itchy everywhere, under my skin where I can’t scratch it. Oh no. Not here. I haven’t fought off a real nightmare before, and even when Chance was just creating the feeling, I only made it go away once. What if I get sucked into the nightmare and people see me disappear? Where can I go? I run down the main hall and head straight for my locker. No one will be down there. I stop dead in my tracks at the top of the hall, seeing three people at their lockers. Crap. What do I do? I turn around and crash right into Chance, but he grabs my shoulders and pressed his cheek to mine.
“It’s ok, I’m here,” he says softly.
“How do you know-”
He cuts me off. “I could tell. You can fight this.” He pulls away from me and looks at me. “You can fight it off. Your mind is really strong, remember?”
I nod and take in a deep breath. I want to fight this. I want to make it go away. I want it to stop. The ringing in my ears is getting louder and I shake my head a bit to try and get it out. I want it to stop. I want it to stop. I squeeze my eyes tight and hold my breath, because for some reason it feels like it will help. I want to be good at this. I want to be good at this. I want it to go away.
And just like that, everything stops. It’s quiet, except for distant conversations in the surrounding halls. I open my eyes and am met with Chance’s, just inches from mine.
“You’re eyes are like chocolate,” I whisper.
I’m still looking into his eyes, but I can tell that he’s smiling. “Let’s go to English.”
I keep watching the clock, afraid for first period to end. My heart starts to pound harder every time the minute hand moves farther around, bringing me closer to sitting next to Zac for an hour and 15 minutes. Every time I try to pull my eyes back to my work, or the board at the front of the room, I catch Chance looking at me, his face full of concern. I just shrug at him, but he doesn’t accept it. He’s still looking at me, and when the bell rings, he’s up and at my desk before I even have a chance to gather my things.
“Are you afraid of Zac?” he asks quietly.
“No.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I’m nervous. He’s kind of a freak.”
He smirks. “I told you.”
“I’ll be fine. I mean we’ll be in class, what can he do?”
Zac is leaning back in his chair when I get to class and I take a deep breath before I go to sit next to him.
“Did you have a nice walk to school?” he asks, with a hint of resentment in his voice.
I smile at him and take my binder out of my bag. “Yes, I did. Thanks.”
I can feel him trying to get into my head again, but I don’t know what he’s trying to make me want. I can just feel the tugging and itching in the middle of my head, deep where I can’t reach, and I try to push him out. I just wish I knew what he was trying to make me do. I smile at him again, and keep looking at him as I open my binder to a blank page. I don’t want him to think that I know he’s trying something. But what is he trying? What’s he trying?
Why is this one so difficult?
Difficult to do what? What does he want? I look away for a second and bow my head, resting it in my hand. The feeling is getting stronger and I’m having trouble keeping him out.
“Why don’t we skip class?” I whisper to him, leaning in closer to his desk.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
What’s he trying to get me to do? I don’t want to skip class. I don’t want to go anywhere with him. But here I am, getting up from my desk and putting my stuff back in my bag. The teacher walks in the class and gives us a look, so I almost sit down, thankful for the excuse to stay.
“Becca isn’t feeling well,” Zac says. “I’m taking her home.”
“You can’t take her home; she’s not allowed to leave school property during school hours without permission from a parent.”
“Right, I forgot,” Zac says. “I’ll take her to the office so she can call her mom.”
“I’ll be waiting for you to come back,” Mr. Cooke says.
Zac puts a hand on my back and walks with me down the hallway. I know that I don’t want to be doing this. Do other people feel that way, or am I just aware of it because of my apparently strong mind? We walk through the halls and head into the stair well. The echo of the heavy door shutting behind us gives me goose bumps and I can’t get over how much I want to shove him out of my head. Am I not as good at this as I thought I was, or is he getting stronger?
“I’m really happy you wanted to leave,” he says, grabbing me and pushing me against the wall.
“But I-”
I don’t even have a chance to say what I know I want to say; he’s kissing me and pressing himself up against me, keeping me trapped. I want to push him off me, but that tugging in my head is making me kiss him and enjoy it, except that I know I’m not enjoying it. I’m not enjoying it! Stop it!
I’m finally able to break free and push him away. He looks hurt, and I realize I have to make him think that I don’t know what he’s doing to me. If he knows that I know, I feel like this could all get very dangerous.
“Sorry,” I say. “I didn’t want to skip class so that we could make out…”
“Oh.” He scratches his head and steps back. “I’m sorry, then. Shit, Becca, I didn’t mean to jump all over you… I just really thought that…”
How does he do that? How does he sound so sincere when he’s clearly not? I can see why all the other girls swoon over him, even without him getting inside their heads. He’s really good at playing the part that most girls want in a guy.
“It’s ok,” I say. Now I need to come up with a reason as to why I wanted to leave class. “I just actually –” I stop talking as soon as someone walks into the stair well. I don’t recognize him, but again, I hardly recognize anyone from this school. He smirks at us as he walks by, but continues on his way like he doesn’t care that we’re spending our class time in the stair well.
“You actually what?” Zac says once the guy is gone.
I hear the echo of the door below us shut, and I sigh. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what it was, I mean, I was excited to learn all about the Vikings and stuff in ancient history, and then I don’t know what came over me, I just wanted to leave with you, but I don’t know why.”
“Hmm.” He looks at me with a bit of a twisted look, but drops it quickly. “That is weird.”
“Yeah. Anyway, let’s just go back to class.”
How is she doing this?
Wow, I wasn’t even trying to hear his thoughts that time. How much more can I hear?
“Or we could just stay here for a little bit first,” I try. “We could just talk?”
Or we could go to Dredd. Say you want to go to Dredd. You want to go to Dredd. “Sure,” he says with a smile. He takes my hand and leads me to the corner under the window, and sits down. I sit next to him and he wraps his arm around my shoulder, so I lean into him.
“I meant it when I said I wanted to slow things down,” I say.
“Ok.”
“I’m serious.”
“Ok.”
“Zac?”
He reaches down across my chest with the arm that’s around my shoulder and grabs my hand, so it’s now slung up my chest, our fingers tangled. “Yeah?”
“I don’t think I want to be a dream person.”
“Good.”
“But I don’t want to be a nightmare person either.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to be anyone but Becca. Can’t I just not be a part of all of this?”
Stop it. You do want it. You want to help me take the Auras down. You want to help me.
He drops my hand and I let it fall into my lap, but in less than a second, he’s turned me to face him, his hands cupping my face. “You’re going to be a part of it, whether you like it or not,” he says gently. “There’s no way to not be a part of it. If you keep fighting the nightmares when they come on, they’re just going to come on stronger and stronger, until you can’t stop them anymore. It’s like they have a mind of their own, and they know when you try to push them out. They just come back stronger each time. But I’ll be there with you, the whole time. You don’t have to be afraid of anything.”
“I’m not afraid,” I say. “I just don’t want to do it.”
“I’m sorry. But the only choice you have in this situation is what side you want to be on.”
Why am I having so much trouble getting into her head? Is she pushing me out? Does she know she’s pushing me out?
“I’ll need to think about it,” I say, getting up. “Let’s go back to class.”
He smiles and stands too, taking my hand.
She must know. How am I going to get her to come with me? A stong mind like that doesn’t come along like that very often. But I guess it makes sense.
Why would it make sense?
Chance meets me at my locker at the beginning of lunch and I almost collapse in relief. I really didn’t want to eat lunch with Zac, having him trying to get into my head now that he thinks he’s sure I’m pushing him out on purpose. None of this can be good.
“Let’s go somewhere for lunch,” I say quickly.
“Where?”
“I don’t know, there’s a Tim Horton’s nearby, isn’t there?”
I shut my locker and head down the hall as fast as I can, leaving through the back door at the end of the empty locker hallway.
The Tim’s is a bit farther than I thought, and it takes us 15 minutes to walk there. Chance keeps asking me what’s wrong and if Zac did anything, but I just keep telling him I don’t want to talk about it yet. But with the silence that keeps creeping up during our walk, I can’t stop thinking about what Zac said on the weekend, about me not giving anyone a chance to call me beautiful.
“Do you think I’m unapproachable?” I ask.
I can tell I’ve caught him off guard. “What? No.”
“Like, not even when we first met?”
He half shrugs. “No, I don’t think so. I mean, I dunno. No, I don’t think so.”
I chuckle awkwardly at his awful lying. “It’s just that I didn’t really have friends in Toronto. I was kind of a loner.”
“Really?”
I nod. “I hung out with a few girls sometimes, but they weren’t really my friends. I feel like I’m new at this. At being friends with people. At… Everything.”
“Why are you telling me this? Does this have something to do with Zac? What did he say to you?”
“Nothing, I said I didn’t want to get into it right now.”
“Well where is this coming from?”
I let out a deep breath and look away for a second. “I don’t know. I was just thinking.”
“What did Zac do? Did he do something during second period?”
I don’t answer him, but we’re at the Tim’s now, and he forces the door shut when I try to open it.
“Chance!”
“Tell me what happened during second period.”
I sigh. “It’s more than just second period.”
He raises his eyebrows at me.
“Can we get something to eat first?” I say.
“Fine.”
I get a toasted French Toast bagel with cream cheese and café mocha, and Chance gets the chili in a bread bowl with a pop. We sit at one of the tables and eat in silence, not even looking at each other. We just eat quickly, and when we’re done, I tell Chance that I’m going to the washroom quickly.
The Bandaid on my collar bone is peeling, so I rip it off, and gasp when I see the reflection of what’s underneath. It looks like Chance’s tattoo! It’s still red around the design, but I can definitely see the white showing through, in a weird, continuous, three looped knot. It’s like a knot before it’s been tightened, with one loop on the top and two on the bottom; one on either side. Except it doesn’t look like the knot could even be tightened, because the looping is all continuous with the same piece of rope. Scratch. Scar. I don’t know what it is. I touch it gently, but it doesn’t hurt or sting. It’s still weird, though.
I peek my head out of the washroom and see Chance still sitting at the table we ate at.
“Chance,” I half shout, half whisper.
He looks over at me and raises his eyebrows. When he doesn’t get up and walk over to me, I wave at him to come to the washroom.
“What?” he says when gets closer.
“Come in here.”
“In the girls’ washroom?”
“Oh get over yourself, there’s no one else in here.”
He shrugs and follows me in. Once the door is closed, I pull my shirt collar down a bit so he can see what’s on my skin. “What’s this?” I ask.
“It looks like a Gordian Knot.”
“A what?”
“A Gordian Knot.”
“What?”
“A Gordian kn-”
“I heard you the first two times, Chance! I mean what is it? Where did it come from? Why do you have one too?”
“It’s like the symbol of Auras.”
“The what?”
“The symbol of -”
“Don’t you dare repeat yourself!”
He stops himself and waits for me to ask another question.
“How did it just show up on my skin? And why does yours look like a scar? And why do we have it?”
“It shows up on all of us. At different times, and in different places, but all Auras have them. Mine started to show up when I was eight. It took about 4 months to look like a healed scar, though.”
“Well mine just started showing up before school, and it’s already starting to look like a scar.”
“Like I said, it’s different for everyone. They’re all the same size, and of the same thing, just in different spots. Different times in our lives when we get them. It’s not a big deal.”
“Um, it is a big deal, Chance, because now I have some strange scar on my collar bone that everyone’s going to see!”
“It doesn’t stand out all that much. People just think they’re tattoos.”
“So my mom will freak if she thinks I have a tattoo!”
He shrugs. “So don’t let her see it.”
I think about that for a second. She probably wouldn’t even notice it. “Well what does it mean?”
“That we’re Auras.”
“No, what does the symbol mean? What’s a Gordian Knot?”
“It represents thinking outside the box, or solving an unsolvable problem. The Lents like to tell us that it represents cheating, but that’s not true. It goes back to Alexander the Great, someone tied something up with this crazy ass knot, and after it being there, for like, ever, some Oracle dude said that whoever could break the knot, would rule the land. So of course everyone took their try at untying it, but no one could do it, until Alexander the Great came along. But you know how he broke the knot?”
I shake my head.
“He didn’t untie it. He cut it.”
“Ah. Smart,” I say. “They never did say how they had to break the knot; everyone just assumed.”
“Exactly.”
“So I have this weird scar thing now, that looks like a Gordian Knot, and it’s not going to go away?”
“Correct.”
“And all the Auras have them?”
“Correct.”
“Does Zac have one?”
“He did. I don’t know what happens to it if you switch sides.”
We’re quiet for about a minute, and I don’t even know what to say. I’m definitely curious about it. And thinking about it just makes me think of his tattoo. Do all the Lents have tattoos that look like that crazy infinity symbol? And was Zac’s Aura scar on his tricep, and that’s why his tattoo is where it is? Did he cover it up? I want to find out more about these symbols representing each of us, but this whole Gordian Knot thing has definitely gotten us away from the topic that I originally wanted to talk to Chance about. We finally step out of the girl’s washroom, and leave the Tim Horton’s, walking in no particular direction.
After a few minutes of walking in silence, I blurt out all the stuff about Zac from the weekend. “Zac came over on Saturday afternoon, and I didn’t want to go anywhere with him, but I did anyway. Like he made me want to go with him. I didn’t want to, I swear. But then so we went to the beach and I wanted to try and get into his head, like when I heard you thinking about my brother. And it worked! But then I couldn’t always push him out, but when he was making me want things, I knew that I didn’t really want them. I knew that I wanted something else, I just couldn’t do it. And today, he made me leave class with him and -”
“Wait,” Chance cuts me off. “He didn’t… He didn’t do anything, did he? Like he didn’t-”
“No. No, no, no. He tried… to do minor stuff, but I was able to push him out sometimes. He just… I can’t really push him out when all he wants to do is kiss.”
“So that’s all he’s done? Kissed you?”
“Yeah.”
“Well that’s still not ok.”
“I know it isn’t. It’s sick. But that’s not what I’m trying to tell you, Chance, I-”
“I can’t believe him!” He really isn’t letting me talk. “I don’t care if it’s just kissing, that’s like, mouth rape!”
Ha. Mouth rape. “Chance, it’s fine. Sometimes I couldn’t even feel him in my head, I think sometimes he wasn’t even trying to.”
“You mean you think that sometimes you actually wanted to kiss him?”
“Well… I mean, I don’t know, I just… Sometimes it felt good.”
“That’s great.” He stiffens and I have a feeling that I told him too much.
“Do you not want me kissing him?” I ask softly.
“Of course I don’t want you kissing him! He’s an ass!”
“But I mean, do you not want me kissing him because you want to kiss me?”
“What?” He looks at me sharply and then sort of turns away. “No. Of course not.”
“Ok. Just making sure. Because you sounded a little… hurt, when I said that I liked it.”
“I’m not hurt, I’m worried. You’re my friend.”
“Ok. Well you should be worried, because I can hear his thoughts now, like, really clearly. I almost don’t even have to try, and I can hear them! And today, I heard him thinking that he’s pretty sure he’s having trouble getting into my head because I’m pushing him out. I think he knows that I’m doing it on purpose.”
“You need to stop hanging out with him.”
“I know. But I don’t know how. Especially because sometimes I can’t get him out of my head no matter how hard I try.”
“Then you need to practice.”
We’re standing in front of the two birch trees before I know it, and I’m trying to see the glass wall. I can’t focus on it for some reason.
“I can’t see it,” I say.
“Keep trying.”
I stare at it, I stare past it, I stare into it, but nothing.
“It’s not working.”
“Whatever. As long as one of us can see it, we’ll go through.” He grabs my hand and pulls me through the wall that I can’t even see, and tugs me along into the castle. The sun is high in the sky again, and the light inside the castle is dancing everywhere, but this time I can’t admire it. It’s really bugging me that I couldn’t see the wall. We go up the stairs and down the corridor that leads to Chance’s very normal room, and he shuts the door once we’re inside.
“Ok,” he says right away. “I’m going to try and get into your head. Persuade your thoughts to make you want something. And I want you to fight me off.”
“Ok.”
I walk over to his bean bag chair, but instead of sitting down in it, I pick it up. That was weird. Wait a second. “I didn’t even feel that,” I say.
“Ok I’ll try something a bit bigger.”
I set his bean bag chair back down and I instantly feel that tugging inside my head. But what is it? What is he trying to get me to do? I shut my eyes and try to push the feeling out, but it doesn’t go away. But I’m also not doing anything either. So maybe I am pushing him out, and he’s just not giving it up. He’s still trying to dig his way inside. I just wish I knew what he was trying to get me to do. I look at him and he smiles, but I keep my expression flat, trying to stop him from getting in my head. I slowly stand up and walk towards him, and I know that I don’t want to be walking towards him. Not that I’m afraid of him, but I know this isn’t my choice. I know it isn’t. But I’m doing it. I shake my head and try again to push him out and it finally works. I stop and smile at him.
“What were you trying to get me to do?” I ask.
“Nothing, it doesn’t matter.”
“Why not?”
“Because I knew you weren’t going to do it, so it doesn’t matter.”
“You weren’t going to mouth rape me, were you?”
He tilts his head at me. “No. I’m not a freak, remember?”
“Then what was it?” I try again.
“Why don’t you try to get into my head and make me do something?”
“Why? Why are you changing the subject?”
“I’m not.”
“Yes you are!”
He chuckles. “You’ll hate me if I tell you.”
“Well you just said that you knew I wasn’t going to do it, so just tell me.”
He lets out a heavy breath. “I was trying to get you to climb out the window.”
“What!?”
“But you didn’t do it.”
“But what if I did?”
“Well I would have stopped you!”
I pause for a few seconds. “You better have.”
He smiles. “Now try to get into my head.”
“I don’t know how.”
“Sure you do.”
I don’t know what I want him to do. What should I make him do? I narrow my eyes at him and picture him doing jumping jacks. And not 4 seconds later, he’s doing jumping jacks, no question about it. I smile and make him hold a squat. I watch him as he stands there, his knees bent and his butt out, until his legs start to shake. I make him stand up and stick his tongue out at me. I push him in the chest and take the focus off him, and he laughs a little.
“Now try pushing me out,” I say.
He shakes his head. “I can’t.”
“What do you mean you can’t?”
“That’s why your abilities are so cool. Pushing others out isn’t something we can all easily do.”
“Why don’t you try?”
“I don’t know how,” he says.
“Just do what you normally do when you try to control someone’s thoughts. Or when you half entered that nightmare with me, in the caf.”
“What?” He seems sort of taken aback.
“You said you did it on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Well, yeah, but I don’t know what I did. I just did it. I’ve been doing all this stuff since I was really little, so there’s no thought process to it anymore. It’s like muscle memory.”
“Muscle memory?” I ask.
“Yeah. Like if you can unlock your locker without even looking at it, but wouldn’t be able to tell someone the combo.”
I stop to think of that; I had never given that any thought before. But it’s true. I don’t know my locker combination, even though I have been unlocking it every day for the past three years. I have to actually look up and rotate my thumb on an imaginary lock to try and get the numbers from my head.
“See what I mean?” he asks.
“Yeah, I guess. That’s so weird. But this is different,” I try. “When you tried to explain what you thought you did during the process, you said that mind control has a lot to do with wanting.”
“Sure.”
“So I think that’s how you half-entered the nightmare with me. You wanted to be there for me. You wanted it so badly, that your mind allowed it to happen.”
“But,” he says slowly, probably trying to think of a counter argument. “I do dream stuff all the time. I don’t push people out.”
“But you don’t enter dreams from outside of Rem. And you’ve pushed nightmares out, haven’t you? That’s what you taught me to do.”
“Fine,” he says. “But I’m telling you, it’s different. Fighting off nightmares and fighting off someone else’s strong mind, are two different things.”
“Just try. Please?”
He huffs and stretches his neck from to side before nodding at me. “Ok.”
I make him try to lick his elbow and I try not giggle as he stretches his body at weird angles and spins around trying to get it. I swallow my laughter and decide to move on. Enough silly stuff. I make him stick his hands in his pockets while I think about what I should make him do.
“You stopped,” he says.
“I know, I don’t know what to make you do.”
But then I remembered what he said about getting into bars with your real ID. About making them thing think they see a different year. Can I make him see me as someone else? Can I make him think my hair is changing colour? Can I make him think my eyes are bleeding? Or can I make him think I’m all old and wrinkly?
“Uh, Chance,” I start. “Can you tell me what colour my eyes are?”
He steps in a little closer to me and studies me carefully. “Pink.” Wow, that was easy.
“How pink?” I want him to say they are hot pink. But I feel that thing creeping into my head again, and the thought of him seeing my eyes as pink is harder for me to focus on. It’s like when you’re in the middle of saying something and randomly forgot what you were going to say.
“They’re green,” he says, shaking his head and blinking.
“You pushed me out!” I screech, excited.
He smiles. “I need to sit down.” His face is so pale all of a sudden, and I can see sweat dripping down his temple. His hair is wet around his forehead and his neck, and his arms are shaking. What’s happening? He walks backwards to his bed and leans forward, putting his head between his knees.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him, sitting beside him and putting a hand on his back.
He shakes his head. “That was hard.”
“Really?”
“I told you, you’re different. We can get into others’ heads to persuade their thoughts, but keeping them out of ours is a different story. And a different story from keeping out the nightmares.”
“But you did it… I bet if you practiced more, it would get easier.”
“No, this is bad. I almost just passed out.”
“I know, but if you did it more, it would probably get less hard.”
He lifts his head and looks at me. The colour is coming back to his face a little bit. “I don’t think so. But this is why it could be dangerous for you. The Malevolents want someone strong like you. If you can fight off the mind persuasion, then Auras can’t change the nightmares that you’re in control of.”
“But they also can’t force me to help them because I can fight them off.”
“With your mind. But what if they came after you for real? Can you fight them physically?”