My head was buzzing, but I kept on drinking. I didn’t bother trying to talk to Kent anymore, and Whitney had gone over the top flirting with Lane. I was trying to figure out how that was “showing him”, but my brain was too numb to figure it out.
By the end of the night, I could barely manage to stand, let alone walk straight. I laid my head down on the table, feeling drained.
“Do you guys need a ride back?” I could hear Lane asking Whitney.
“No, thanks, I’ll get a taxi. I don’t think Abigail could walk the few blocks home tonight. What has gotten into her?” Whitney wondered.
I felt a hand on my back and then Lane’s voice was in my ear. “Are you going to be okay tonight?”
I could feel myself drifting already, and all I managed was a moan. He sighed and stood up. “The least we can do is help her out to the taxi.”
Whitney agreed to that, not really having another choice, and I felt arms around me, lifting me up. We walked outside where the cool air revived me a little bit. My mouth felt dry and my head was spinning when I looked around. We were on the sidewalk in front of The Den. Whitney was trying to flag down a taxi and Kent stood a couple feet away, looking at his phone. Lane had his arm around my waist, holding me up.
“Are you okay?” he asked, looking down at me.
“I’ll make it. Probably not for a few days though.” I was not looking forward to tomorrow’s colossal hangover.
Lane laughed at that. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone drink quite so much at one time. This was quite a first date.”
I scoffed at that. “This was not a date. I only just met you. You’re crazy.” It occurred to me that I should step away from him. He was probably getting all sorts of wrong ideas.
I took a step and wobbled. Why was the ground spinning so much? I could feel the nausea rising, and I covered my mouth with my hand, moaning. I couldn’t handle throwing up outside in front of two strangers.
Lane turned me toward him and pushed my head to his shoulders. “Shh, Abby. Close your eyes and take slow, deep breaths. In and out. There you go.”
Surprisingly, it worked. The rolling nausea eased back down. “Thank you,” I whispered. I heard Whitney’s heels clicking toward us and heard her huff.
“If you’re quite through, our taxi is here,” she said. I could just imagine the look on her face now. She was probably royally pissed at Lane holding me.
He helped me into the back of the cab. “Good night, you two,” he said, shutting the door.
The taxi started driving away, and I kept my eyes on Lane until he disappeared. Since we only lived a few blocks away, the ride didn’t take long. But it felt like forever when I sensed the hostility coming at me from Whitney.
I was able to make it up the elevator and to our apartment by keeping one hand on the wall. Whitney didn’t even wait for me. She just walked ahead, slamming the door shut before I reached it. I groaned. This night did get worse.
I opened the door and stepped in, heading toward the kitchen. I needed water and Tylenol. A lot of water. A ten-gallon bucket of water. What I got instead was Whitney waiting for me.
She was leaning against the counter, her arms folded across her chest. “So…not interested in him, huh?”
I shook my head. I was too tired for this. “Don’t be like this, Whitney.”
“Like what?” She feigned innocence. “You’re supposed to be my best friend, but I turn around for two seconds and you’re all over my guy!”
I felt a flash of anger. “Your guy? You just met him hours ago! What, are you two together now?” I went to the pantry and got a couple bottles of water, then to the cabinet above the refrigerator for the Tylenol. Turning to Whitney, I sighed. “Look, this is stupid. We shouldn’t be fighting about someone we’ve only just met. Please, let’s just forget about all this. You can have him if you really want him that badly. Let’s just not fight anymore.”
Whitney sniffed and looked away. “Yeah, well, I don’t want a guy that throws himself at any girl he sees, anyway.”
I stiffened up, slightly offended that I was just lumped into the category of any girl. Taking a deep breath, I blew it out slowly through my nose, calming down. I just wanted to be over this. Plus, I wasn’t sure how I would feel if she couldn’t accept Lane’s interest in me. “Okay. I’m exhausted, so I’m going to bed. Good night.” I went to my room, getting my pajamas on before taking some Tylenol and guzzling a bottle of water. Then, I flopped onto the bed, waiting for sleep.
My dream was very strange. It seemed to be quick flashes of things. Cars racing down roads, people walking by me like I didn’t even exist. Lane was even there. He stood in front of me, brushing my hair away from my face. “I’ve never met anyone like you. You interest me.” His words echoed our earlier conversation. Then he morphed into my mother. She was leaning over me, as if I were lying down. “I love you, sweetie. Wake up. Please, wake up.” Those words echoed in my head. Wake up. Wake up.
I woke up, gasping. I was clammy with sweat and my heart was racing. What in the hell? I thought to myself. That dream was extremely bizarre. It felt like there was some sort of warning in it. Rubbing my eyes, I sat up. The light was streaming in brightly. I looked at the clock, my jaw dropping. It was one in the afternoon. How did I sleep so late?
I got up and dressed, ready for some coffee. I hadn’t planned on doing much today, even if I hadn’t slept half of it away. I turned on the coffee maker and took the creamer out of the refrigerator. After making a cup, I sat on the couch and called my mom. Seeing her in my dream made me realize we hadn’t spoken in a while. In fact, I couldn’t remember the last time we talked. I frowned at that, listening to the ringing. But it went to her voicemail.
“Well, that blows,” I muttered as I put the phone down and drank my coffee.
I finally got up. I needed to straighten up my room. I grabbed my skirt off the floor, getting my keys out of the front pocket. I heard a crinkling noise in the other pocket and found a folded-up paper there. I was sure it wasn’t mine. I opened it and saw it was a note.
Abby,
If you ever need someone to talk to.
I’m here.
Lane
His phone number was written at the bottom. I didn’t even know what to think. Why would he write this? When did he even put it in my pocket? Did he feel me up when he put the note there? My cheeks started burning at the thought. This guy just thought highly of himself, didn’t he? “I’ll show him,” I said. But for some reason, instead of throwing the note in the trash, I found myself shoving it in the bottom of my purse.
I spent the rest of the weekend being lazy. Normally, I tried to stay productive, but after my crazy Friday night, I was just over it. Whitney was still acting miffed at me, even though she said she was fine. I was looking forward to getting back to work on Monday.
On Sunday, I got out the manuscript that I had brought home with me on Friday. Frustratingly enough, I couldn’t find the focus I needed to read it and mark it up. Eventually, I just put it back.
I ended up going to bed early just to get the day over with. I pulled the covers up to my chin, rolling to my side to get comfortable. All I could think was that I didn’t want to have any more weird dreams. But since last night had been okay, I just chalked it up to an alcohol-induced dream.
I sighed and stretched out. What is going on? I thought. But deep down, I knew. Lane had gotten into my head. I had ignored it for two days, but it was hard to keep doing that. So, in the safety of my room, I closed my eyes and let Lane into my thoughts.
I recalled the way he looked at me after he saved me from the car, asking if they could join us. His smile at me and how he looked at me when we were waiting at the bar. He had woken something in me that I hadn’t realized was even there. I was twenty-five years old and I had dated before, but nobody had ever made me feel this way. I never knew before what I was missing. And we hadn’t even been on a date! It was an impromptu joining, only because the careless
driver of the car had brought us together. We hardly even talked that night. I wished I could share this with Whitney but given what had happened Friday night with her reaction to Lane’s interest in me, I knew it wasn’t a good idea.
I closed my eyes and didn’t open them again until Monday morning. I woke up to my alarm, bright and early. I got dressed in a knee-length black skirt and tucked in a pearly white satin shirt. I slipped on some black heels and looked at myself in the mirror.
“Yes,” I said softly. “Power outfit to power through Monday.” I glanced at my face. “Okay, after I do something with my face and hair.” I finished my makeup, trying to keep it light. After pulling my hair up into a ponytail, I packed up my briefcase and left the apartment to get my car.
I arrived at work and got to my desk. Sitting down, I straightened up a few picture frames and unloaded the manuscript from my briefcase.
“Coffee next,” I sighed to myself. I turned my computer on and then headed to the break room. Another editor, Julie, was already there.
“Hey, Abigail!” she exclaimed. Julie was always very enthusiastic, even this early in the morning. “How was your weekend? Anything exciting happen?”
I sighed and poured coffee into my cup, sweetening it up with sugar and creamer. “Oh, it wasn’t too bad, Julie. Whitney and I went out on Friday night and met a couple guys.” I saw her eyes brighten at that and quickly tried to head her off. “But they definitely weren’t keepers.”
Julie deflated, seeming upset that she couldn’t gab about guys with me. But, honestly, she just tried too hard. She was in her late forties, had been divorced for four months, and was now acting like she was in her twenties again, needing to gossip about everything. Men were her favorite topic right now. I had a feeling her biological clock was ticking to find a new husband.
“Anyways,” I went on, “I just spent the rest of the weekend at home, not doing anything. How about you?” I took a sip of coffee, knowing Julie would jump at the chance to talk about herself.
“Well, I went on a date with a guy named Brian. He was very handsome. We went to dinner and I’m not sure where I went wrong, but he took me home after and didn’t even kiss me good night!”
I took another sip of coffee, taking in Julie’s sad expression. As much as she got on my nerves, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her now. I laid a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay, Julie. Maybe he’s just not a kiss on the first date kind of guy.”
She looked reassured at that and perked up. “Yeah, maybe you’re right! I’m going to go see if he texted me!” She hurried off.
I rolled my eyes. “Wow. Someone please shoot me if I turn into that,” I pleaded to the universe. I finished my coffee and washed the cup out, setting it on the dish rack to dry.
Walking back to the office area, I said hello to a few co-workers as I passed by them. Then, I was at my desk. Time to get my head in the game, I thought. I pulled my manuscript in front of me and started to read. I made notes in a notebook, marking pages and places.
When I looked up, I saw it was time for my lunch break. “Finally!” I stretched out my back, feeling it pop in a few places.
I headed toward the break room with my lunch bag. Julie was there along with a handful of others. Sitting down, I took out my lunch and started eating. I only had thirty minutes, so I tried to make the most of it. Everyone else in here was older than me, so I didn’t have a lot in common with them. I had been lucky to get hired on here right after college. It had been a coveted position and I was told there were a lot of applicants.
I listened to the small talk but didn’t participate much. My thoughts stupidly kept drifting back to Lane. There’s nothing to even think of! You met him once, he flirted with you. And there’s no chance of seeing him again! I scrunched up my trash angrily.
I stood up to go back to my desk. I slowed down and then stopped when I reached it. Nothing seemed out of place, but at the same time, something seemed messed up. Like it was moved and then put back, but not exactly as it was before. Weird, I thought, because I had no idea what the problem was. I just need a nap. Or maybe caffeine. Surely one of those will work.
I got back up to get a Diet Coke from the vending machine. I took it back to my desk. “Okay,” I said to myself. “Time to get some real work done.”
Opening the manuscript to my last spot, I started to read and take notes again. I had gotten halfway through the chapter when I turned the page and saw something that made my blood run cold. I read it once, then twice. Looking up, I glanced at everyone in the office to see if this was a joke. Nobody was paying any attention to me though. They were all just doing their own work.
What the hell is this? I thought. Because this was most certainly not part of the historical fiction story I was reading. But it was in there, right between two other paragraphs, like it belonged there.
I ran my fingers over the words, trying to make sense of it all. I had to read them again.
If you’re reading this, you’ve been in a coma for almost five years now. We’re trying a new technique. We don’t know where this message will end up in your dream, but we hope we’re getting through. Please wake up! We miss you.
Chapter Two
This was insane. This wasn’t possible. I couldn’t figure out how to react to what I had just read. This was like something out of a sci-fi movie. It just didn’t make sense.
I sat back in my chair, trying to wrap my brain around it. Maybe it was a mistake? Could the author have actually typed this into his book? I shook my head. No, that didn’t make sense either; the book was set in the 1700’s. But I had to find out.
I stood up, separating the page from the rest of the stack. I started toward my manager’s office but hesitated before I could knock. I can’t just give the page away, I thought. This was too weird to just pass on and forget about it.
I turned and went to the copy machine. Sliding the page in, I pressed the copy button and waited while a new paper slid out of the back. I folded it up small and slipped it into my skirt pocket.
Now I’m ready. I made my way back to my manager’s office and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” I heard her say.
I opened the door and saw Lauren Cross sitting behind her desk, engaged with her computer screen, typing fast on her keyboard.
“What’s up?” she asked, without looking away from her screen.
I hesitated again, feeling foolish. “Well, um, I was going through my manuscript and saw something really strange.”
Now Lauren did look at me. “Strange how?”
I held out the page toward her. “Here. It’s a few lines down.”
Lauren took the page and started reading. As she read, her mouth turned into a frown. She got to the bottom and flipped the page over, as if she expected to read more. Turning it back, she skimmed it again before looking at me.
“I’m not sure what part you’re talking about, Abigail.” Lauren held the page out. “Point it out to me.”
I swallowed. I leaned over to her, showing her where the bizarre paragraph was.
Lauren looked down at the page and then back at me. “Abigail, that’s just the story. It flows with the rest of it and there’s nothing out of place about it.”
I stared at her, confused. Can she not see it? I wondered to myself. I took the paper, looked it over. The note seemed to jump off the page at me. I’m going crazy. No other explanation.
“You know what, you’re right. I must have read it wrong.” I stood up, trying to retreat gracefully.
Lauren narrowed her eyes at me. “Is everything okay, Abigail?” she inquired.
No, it’s not. “Yes, it’s okay. Just been a long day, and I didn’t sleep well last night,” I lied to her.
I exited the office, making my way back to my desk. I considered asking others if they saw what I did, but I didn’t want to risk them not seeing it, and then the office would be gossiping about me.
Instead, I would take my copy home and ask Whitney.
Maybe she would have an idea. I put the original back in its spot. I looked at my watch, amazed at how my day had turned upside down so fast.
I made it through the rest of the day knowing I couldn’t pay the attention I needed to at the story I was reading, thanks to that strange note. I would probably have to do this same section again tomorrow.
Five o’clock finally came, and I heaved a sigh of relief. I raced home, bursting to be able to talk to Whitney about my strange day.
I opened the front door. “Whitney?” I called out. She was usually home before I was. “You here?”
Making my way to the living room, I saw Whitney on the couch, watching television.
“Hey, did you hear me calling you?”
“Yup,” was all Whitney said as she changed channels. She didn’t even look up at me.
I couldn’t believe this. How long was this grudge going to last?
I sat down in the recliner beside the couch, looking at Whitney as she studiously ignored me. Well A for effort, I guess, I thought.
“Look, I need your help with something.” I pulled out the copy I had hidden in my pocket. I felt like it had been burning a hole there all day. “It’s hard to explain. Just read this and see if anything weird jumps out at you.” I held out the page.
Whitney looked at me skeptically, but took it. She took about five seconds to scan it and handed it back, barely glancing at me. “Nope, I don’t see anything.”
I stared at her in amazement. I couldn’t believe how she was acting toward me. Still!
“Are you kidding me, Whitney? How are you going to sit there and treat me like this? I needed your help, I feel like I’m going through a crisis, and you’re still pissed because some guy you barely met and know might actually like me better than you?” I threw up my hands in frustration and stood up. “Well, screw you, Whitney. I’m glad to know some stranger is more important than your best friend.”
Invisible Future Page 2
