by Bailey James
“You still have books? Everything isn’t just digital or something?”
Of all the questions you could have asked, you ask that one? I roll my eyes at myself, but Jackson doesn’t seem to notice.
“Not really. That’s the amazing part.” His eyes are all lit up. “The only true paper books we have are in museums. And this book is old. I mean, really old. Hold on, I’ll be right back. Don’t leave, okay?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I mutter. Even if I wanted to do something else, I don’t seem to have a choice. This stuff is obviously not going to go away on its own. And the more I hear, the more I’m starting to believe.
He smiles and hurries over to his desk. When he returns, he’s holding what appears to be a very large, very worn book, and a bunch of other smaller ones. “See?”
With a quick look at it, I say, “Okay, so…what?”
His face falls like I insulted his favorite toy. “Well, this book is several hundreds of years old, and is all about other dimensions.”
That catches my interest. “Really?”
The gleam in his eye returns. “Yeah, and there was a note from my father.” He holds up what looks like a tablet but smaller and way thinner. “This is a data tablet. Uh, it works similar to your notepads. Dad said that if I found the book, and no I don’t know how he’s involved in this or how he knew I’d need this, but anyway, I was supposed to go to this certain guy—a friend of his—and say the word ‘traveler.’ So, of course, I did. I followed the directions to this antique shop downtown.”
“And…?” I prod, leg bouncing.
“And we sat for hours as he told me all about other dimensions and the possibilities of why this is happening.” He stops and plays with his shoe.
“Well, what were they? What did he tell you?” Damn it, why is he drawing this out?
“Lots of stuff. Mostly about your dimension, which has been absolutely fascinating to learn about. And he gave me more books.” He holds up a thin one that looks like a diary. “This is a journal. I avoided reading it because it felt too personal, but I knew I had to when I came back after saving you. I needed to know more about your world and…stuff. So, I can help you understand. I knew you’d have a problem accepting this.”
For some reason I feel insulted, but I don’t know why. Technically, that’s a logical assumption. Who would have an easy time accepting something that only happens on TV?
“I don’t think that was a compliment.”
He grins. “It wasn’t an insult either, promise. We—and by that, I mean my world—are used to the unusual happening. It’s easier to accept things when you forever hear about science’s latest advances on the evening news. Things that would almost sound like miracles to you. You—and I mean your world as a whole—haven’t embraced science yet.”
“Are you kidding me? We’re all about science here. We may not have made it to Mars yet, but that is totally going to happen within the next five years.” I hold my finger up in the air like that will emphasize my point.
He only sends me an indulgent look, and I pout. “What else did he tell you?” I asked.
“Oh. Lots of things. Tons of stuff about your world. I spent weeks at the antique shop with him. I went every day after school. In fact, I was still going over there when you had your accident. I haven’t been back since, though, so I could make sure you were okay. Not that I can do anything to help.” That last part comes out in a mutter I don’t think I’m supposed to hear. He shakes his head as if clearing it. “The books he gave me are all about interdimensional stuff. He doesn’t know a whole lot personally, but he told me I can keep the books as long as I need, but I can’t tell anyone.”
I give him a look. “Why are you telling me, then?”
“Because he said that if I ever decided to talk to you, I should tell you about them and tell you where to find them on your own so you can research all this for yourself. He’d hoped that it would help you believe in this.”
“And how did he get these books?”
He sighs and drags a hand through his hair. “He wouldn’t tell me, just said it wasn’t important yet, and I’d figure it out when I was meant to.”
Well, if that isn’t utterly frustrating.
There’s more to it. And I have lots of questions, like what Jackson’s dad has to say about all this. What does his dad know exactly?
But I leave it for now and only ask, “Those books will make me believe you?”
He shrugs. “Well, maybe not by themselves, but they will help.”
Okay, well, it would undoubtedly prove something if I do find them. “Where do I go to find them?”
He grins this absolutely adorable lopsided smile that makes my heart stutter, my belly flutter, and me want to nibble on his lower lip.
Whoa! Back up there, Scarlett Letter. There will be no nibbling of lower lips unless they belong to Ty.
I force my gaze from his mouth to his eyes.
He’s smirking at me.
“Believe it or not,” he says, “they’re at your library.”
I lift a brow. “My library? Aren’t they from your world?” And why in hell’s bells would someone hide something so important in a PUBLIC library. My public library of all things.
He shakes his head. “Nope. He said that all of the books I have are confiscated from a cult. While some of them are actual scientific research published in journals in your world, some of them have been published as fiction in your world. Hide it in plain sight and all that.”
Wait? What? There’s a cult now? Important relevant information is actually fiction? What the fresh hell is going on?
“What in the heck are you talking about?” I’m sure I’ve fallen down the rabbit hole now. None of this makes any sense. Not one lick. First, we’re talking about other dimensions, and now we’re talking about cults. Does this never end?
His look is sympathetic when he says, “I don’t know a whole lot, and he won’t tell me much more than I already know. He’s hinted that they’re the ones behind the man who got committed, but that’s all I can get out of him. But, from what I gleaned from the diary, I think he could be right. I’m going to keep reading to figure it out.”
I rub my fingers on my temples. “Those books are from my side, right?” I ask.
“Yes.”
“Well, I guess you better tell me their titles, so I can do some research of my own.” The more I know, the better off I’ll be. Of this, I’m sure.
I can see relief in his posture as I get up to grab a pen and paper and then write the titles down in a careful hand as he reads them off to me.
“Anything else I should know?” I ask, wincing because I really don’t want to know.
“No.” He gives me a careful study. “You’re taking this awfully well. Do you still think I don’t exist?”
I shrug as his image begins to fade. To be honest, I don’t really know what to think, but all I say is, “Sometimes reality is stranger than fiction.”
His fingertips press against the glass, and his mouth moves, but I can’t hear him. Before I can ask him to repeat, the glass has returned to normal, and the only one I see is myself.
With my head pounding, I drag myself back to the bed and crawl on top of the blankets. The only thing on my mind right now is sleep. I don’t even remember putting my head on the pillow.
Groggy, I wake to see the sun setting through my window. I blink a few times to clear my vision.
Damn, another dream, I think, but that one seemed so real. Even rational me doesn’t argue, and I’m kind of disappointed if I’m honest.
My entire body aches again. I wince when I yawn and stretch my arms over my head, all of my joints popping, but I also hear a crinkling sound and notice my hand is crunching something. I open my hand and gasp when I see the tiny yellow scrap of paper crumbled in my hand.
&nb
sp; On it is the list of titles I had dreamt about. Not a dream then.
Chapter Nine
I sit staring at the yellow paper, but instead of being scared or nervous, I feel an overwhelming sense of relief. Here’s tangible proof this is really happening. These books will tell me everything I need to show myself I’m not crazy.
Thirty minutes later, I’m sitting at the computer that will tell me exactly where the books I’m looking for are. My whole body relaxes when I find a location for every single book I’m looking for. It’s as if someone has flipped a switch and the stress I didn’t even realize I was carrying around is gone.
I didn’t make it up. The books are real. Thank goodness.
So? Doesn’t mean Jackson is. It just means you found books about other dimensions. You probably just did research on it and don’t remember rational me taunts.
I’m beginning to hate this bitch.
So, I’m now missing huge chunks of time where I sat down at my computer and did research on a subject I’ve had no interest in before and came up with five books that just happen to explain why I’m seeing Jackson in my mirror?
It’s possible, rational me says, but it isn’t very convincing.
I shake my head. I really have to stop talking to myself, I think with a giggle.
Back home, I drop the books onto my bed. They’re about two-hundred pages each, but after flipping through them on the ride home, I’m sure they’ll tell me exactly what I need to know. Within a few moments, I’m absolutely absorbed into what I’m reading.
I skimmed the articles in the journals, and while they’re fascinating and prove theoretically that what’s happening is real, it’s the fiction that draws me in and convinces me that this is really happening.
“I’m not crazy,” I mumble.
“Of course, you’re not,” Tyler says from behind me.
Startled, I gasp and spin to face him. He’s smiling at me. I have to stop myself from slapping a hand to my chest to stop my heart from taking flight. Ty strides over and places his hand on my cheek to kiss my mouth. The kiss makes my head spin, but this time, it’s not in a good way, and I have to grab his shoulders to steady myself.
“You okay? I didn’t mean to scare you. I just thought I’d better announce myself before you kept talking to yourself and said something embarrassing.” He grins again and winks.
Irritation crawls like ants over my skin. “Yeah. Thanks.” I know he’s trying to make light of the situation to take my mind off things, but I don’t care. I really need to get to the library and see if these books actually exist. I also need to figure out a way to get to the library without my parents freaking out. “What are you doing here?”
He frowns at my tone. “I told you I was coming back after I grabbed our stuff from the hotel.” He holds up my suitcase before setting it down by my closet door. He flicks his jaw up. “What ‘cha got?”
He takes my hand to see what has all my attention. I snatch my hand away before he can see the paper but smile to try and soften the blow when his brows jump to this hairline.
“Oh, it’s nothing, just a list of titles. Since I’ll be stuck in this room for a bit longer.” I roll my eyes to look as normal as possible. “I figured I’d go to the library and get some books I’ve wanted to read.”
“Oh?” he asks with a grin, picking up one of the books. “What did you get?”
I bite my lip. “Uh, just. Something I found interesting.”
He arches a brow and frowns when he reads the back cover copy. “These books are about other dimensions?”
I shrug. “I figure if my brain wants other dimensions, I’ll give it other dimensions.” I don’t know why I don’t just tell him the truth, but my gut is telling me to keep his to myself. I promise myself I’ll tell him everything when I can prove all this is really happening.
“Do you mind if I sit next to you?” He brushes a strand of hair from my cheek. I’m still so irritated that I don’t even get the little tingles I usually do when he does that.
“Hmm? Yeah, that’s fine,” I replied, not taking my eyes from the pages.
He sits next to me, draping his arm around my shoulders. “Maybe you should relax your brain, not stress it out more.”
“Um, hmm.”
He takes my chin and tugs it so I’m looking at him. “Lily, I’m worried about you. You’ve never liked science fiction before. In fact, you flat-out refuse to watch anything science fiction every time I suggest it. There’s something you’re not telling me.” His eyes flash between mine. “If you saw that guy again, it’s because you haven’t been resting.”
“I never said I saw him again.”
He levels a gaze at me that flat-out tells me he doesn’t believe for a second I didn’t have another hallucination.
“How have I not been resting? I’ve done almost nothing but sleep since I got home from the hospital the first time. And every time I sleep, I see Jackson’s face. Sleeping isn’t helping me; it’s making it worse.”
If anything, the worry in his eyes intensifies. “Maybe you should talk to your mom about seeing that psychiatrist.”
“I’m not going to a psychiatrist. I’m not crazy.” That horrible feeling pops up again, and Jackson’s story about the man who was committed because of this pops front and center into my mind.
Nope. Not going.
“No one said you were, Lily. It’s because your mind is trying to make sense of a senseless accident. And psychiatrists aren’t just for ‘crazy people.’” He makes air quotes. “They’re for anyone who needs someone to talk to.” I glare at him, and he makes a placating gesture. “Okay. Okay. Maybe you don’t have to see the psychiatrist. The dreams may go away on their own.” He places a hand on mine that’s still holding the book in my lap. “If you stop focusing on them.”
“No, they won’t,” I mumble. I’m almost convinced none of this is a dream after all. It’s just too damn real. “I already tried ignoring them. They got worse. What’s the worst thing that can happen if I read up on the science behind all of this? Maybe I’ll be able to prove my side of the story.”
The look behind Ty’s eyes is a mix of sadness and worry. He trails a hand down the gash on my head. “The police told your mom what happened, Lily. They said the other driver hit the side of your car. That’s where this came from. If it would’ve happened like you said it did, this wouldn’t be here.”
I frown. “Why not?”
“Because your head hit the side window and cracked it. Once that happened, they think you blacked out, which was lucky because you were also thrown from the car through that same window. Why weren’t you wearing your seatbelt?”
I touch the wound, too. Maybe that was possible, but I glance down to my chest. It isn’t visible at the moment because I’m wearing a shirt, but there’s a seatbelt bruise marring the skin between my boobs. To be fair to the EMTs and doctors, the bruises didn’t start forming until a few days after the accident. It had only been super tender and red, but so had been everything else.
“I was,” I say indignantly. I yank up my shirt, revealing the still darkening bruise. “Explain this. None of that other stuff you mentioned happened. I was not thrown from the car. I was pulled from it after Jackson disconnected my seatbelt. Why else would I have bruises across my chest, Tyler?”
Ty’s eyes focus in on it, and he reaches out a finger to trace the line from my shoulder, between my boobs, to my hip where it disappears under my pants. He frowns, but then blinks and peers up at me with a scowl.
“Who the hell is Jackson?”
I toss my hands in the air. Figures that’s what he focused on. “The guy who rescued me!”
“Okay,” he says, still touching the bruise. “You obviously were wearing your belt, and maybe this Jackson guy did rescue you. But he didn’t stay at the scene, so it’s probably because he hit you and didn’t want t
o get caught. He’s not from another dimension. Your mind is blocking the truth from you because what happened to you is too devastating.”
I know I’m not going to convince him otherwise, and, to be fair, I couldn’t exactly blame him for not believing me, so I shrug. “Maybe.” I grab my book from where it landed when I tossed my hands up earlier and go back to reading.
Ty takes my chin and turns my head, so I’m looking at him. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
I sigh, but say, “I do, but I think I still need to read this. It’s intriguing. You might even like it.”
He chews on his cheek as he considers. “All right. If it makes you feel better, what the hell?” He grabs another book and dives in.
To say I’m shocked is an understatement, but I’m also relieved. Maybe, if he reads these, I won’t have to convince him of anything, and then he can help Jackson and me figure out what the hell is happening.
Within a few minutes, however, as I’m just getting back into reading the book in front of me, he sighs. “This is fiction, Lily.”
I nod. “I know.”
He frowns at me. “How is reading fiction going to help you?”
I shrug. “I don’t know.”
I place my book down on the bed but keep my finger between the pages. “I’m sorry, Ty, but I need to read these. For my own well-being. I hope you understand and will help me, but I understand if you don’t and can’t.”
He studies me for several minutes before sighing. “If you think it will make you feel better, who am I to stop you? But I’m going to head home then, okay? Call me when you finish.” That last little bit is said with an edge to it that raises my eyebrows and nicks my heart.
He stands and starts for the door, but I snatch his hand, stopping him.
