I listened for a long moment to the thrumming inside my head. I used to wonder if it was my actual heartbeat that I heard or just some part of the dream that even the Dreamer wasn’t aware of. I decided it must be mine. The Dreamer didn’t even know I was here—why would they bother giving me a heartbeat?
Besides, I liked it better this way. It was the only thing I had control of in the dreams. If I breathed quickly or got excited, it would speed up; if I relaxed, the gentle cadence would slow. My heartbeat was my tether to reality.
I braced myself for the sound of her dream to come, waiting for it, but when it hit, I barely noticed.
Birds were chirping in the distance, and there was water sloshing around somewhere.
Smell hit next, sweet and earthy. It reminded me of a wheat field on a warm day. When sight arrived, it didn’t disappoint. There were vivid colors everywhere. I sat in a wide pasture at the base of a tall purple mountain. The ground was covered with soft red grass. Nearby, a stream wound down to a wide silver lake. The sun hung high in the sky, but a soft breeze cooled my face and moved my hair.
Her emotions jolted me when they hit. A deep sadness, but it was less disturbing than it should have been—as though it was thinned by water, diluted to make it less painful. Still, I ached with an unexpected emptiness. It echoed my own day-to-day feelings in a strange way. Megan and I had much more in common than I’d have guessed.
Something felt different in her dream, though. Not bad, just different, unlike any other I’d watched. It nagged at the back of my mind, but I couldn’t place it.
I turned, and froze when I saw her.
She stood a few feet behind me, wearing a white sundress and standing before an easel. Her left wrist twisted in circles, winding one dark curl tight around her pinky. She studied the canvas before her. She lifted her other hand and I expected her to paint, but instead she chewed on the end of the paintbrush. I had to admit, she might have acted a little psycho but she was also pretty cute.
I wanted to reach out and touch her, but I’d learned a long time ago that physical contact while watching wasn’t possible. Whether it was the Dreamer or some other person in the dream, we just passed over each other. I couldn’t interact. When I was twelve, the first year I started watching dreams, I must’ve tried to touch my mom a thousand times, begging her to help me understand what was happening. I’d tried to hold her hand, hug her, hit her, anything to make her see me, make her hear me.
It was probably better that it never worked. Just being here felt like a violation of the Dreamer’s privacy—touching them was a line I didn’t think I should cross.
I hopped to my feet and walked over to see her painting. The canvas was blank, not even the slightest dot marred the white sheet before her. It was peaceful in her dream, but she was so focused she looked almost frustrated. She kept shifting her weight back and forth between her bare feet.
Strange. If there was any dream-world built for painting, this was it. And her deep sadness felt almost foreign in this place. Everything around us was so quiet, calm, and beautiful. This wasn’t a memory, but it probably wasn’t a fantasy either.
I closed my eyes and felt the sun on my face; a feeling of serenity soaked through my skin. What was so different?
In that instant, it hit me. This dream had only one layer.
I didn’t think it possible: a single-layer dream. But it was so calm and real. It was like life, but enhanced somehow. Everything felt more vibrant.
But it wasn’t just what was happening in her head that was different; it was what was happening in mine. I could feel it in some inexplicable way, a freedom in my thoughts—a flexibility in the way my mind wandered.
Hope seeped through the cracks of my carefully constructed wall. At that moment, Megan could’ve been Picasso and I still wouldn’t have watched her any longer. If there was any dream I could sleep in—the true deep sleep I needed—this would be it.
I walked to a shady spot nearby. Rubbing my hands together to still their shaking, I took a deep breath. I could handle the disappointment if this attempt failed like all the others. It wouldn’t hurt me anymore. Forcing my muscles to move, I reclined on the soft red grass, closed my eyes …
And slept.
five
Waking up after a night in Megan’s dreams—no, of actual sleep and my own dreams—was an incredible thing. I tried to hold on to pieces of the experience, the strange images floating through my own fragmented dreams. Finn had been there, and I think Addie and my dad. We were by an ocean. I wanted to tuck every detail away somewhere safe where no one could ever take them from me again.
It’d been so long since my brain had slept that I couldn’t remember any of my dreams from before I became a Watcher. Now I knew what I’d been missing. Every part of my body felt rested and alive instead of dragging with the exhaustion I’d become accustomed to. Megan had somehow made it possible.
I lay on my bed, reveling in the refreshed feeling and dreamy oblivion. Sleeping was good. I loved sleep. Best. Thing. Ever.
Stretched out against my dark blue sheets, I didn’t want to get up. I didn’t want to ever move again. It was nearly impossible to think about doing anything except going back to sleep.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
“Parker!” Mom’s shout shattered my happy haze like a bazooka. “Your alarm went off thirty minutes ago. You up yet?”
I bolted out of bed, fully alert for the first time in months—
probably years.
“I’m up.” A small grin crept across my face. I’d slept through my alarm? How … normal.
Tugging a gray long-sleeved shirt and jeans out of the closet, I was through the door, past my Mom, and into the shower in under a minute. I would be late for school, but the sudden urgency that filled me had nothing to do with that.
It was Megan. I had to find her and make eye contact again. I had to find out if all her dreams were like the one last night.
My brain whirred as it sorted the information: her approx-
imate age, where I’d seen her, what direction she was heading in and why. She didn’t seem older than me, but I knew I’d never seen her before. That meant she could be new in town. She was old enough to drive, so chances were fifty/fifty she’d be attending my high school. I would find her.
Doubt flooded me as I stepped out of the shower. I forced aside nagging thoughts that maybe it wouldn’t be that easy, maybe she was only passing through town. Maybe I’d never see her again. No matter what it took, though, I had to find her.
Why could I sleep in her dream? Could I do it again?
For a moment, the whirring in my mind stopped and my stomach clenched. What was I planning to do? Hunt her down? Force her to make eye contact with me? It felt wrong. But something else inside me spoke, something deep-rooted and instinctual. This was a possible means of survival. It could mean a real life for me.
I had to find out, but I’d need to be careful.
I ran through the front doors of Oakville High School. Fifteen minutes late wasn’t too bad. Everything seemed oddly hushed, though. I peered in the classrooms as I jogged down the hall, but they were all empty.
By the time I got to my locker, I wondered if it was some kind of holiday I’d forgotten about. My heart pounded and I racked my brain for what holiday it could possibly be. It was Monday, the first week of October. Why would there be no school?
I closed my locker and turned around, leaning against it to think. A mirror lined the back of the trophy case on the opposite wall, but my reflection looked nothing like me. There was color in my cheeks I hadn’t seen in a year or more; my dark hair glistened. I looked almost healthy.
An eruption of laughter floated down the stairs at the end of the hall and I headed toward the sound. Then I smacked myself in the forehead. Of course! The assembly. I’m a genius.
All sports assemblies were
the same at OHS. Technically this was a football assembly, since soccer season was still a ways off, but I knew that like always, it would somehow turn back to soccer. Soccer was like a religion for Oakville High students. No matter what group you hung with, no matter who your family was, no matter what else happened throughout the school year—we were all unified about soccer.
This actually might work out pretty well, I realized. The entire student body would be there, and it would be easier to find Megan when everyone was in one place.
I pushed open the doors to the auditorium. The smell of dust mixed with a hundred different kinds of cologne, perfume, and deodorant assaulted my senses. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dimness of the room. There were three seniors on stage doing some kind of skit.
I saw Finn motion to me from a few rows up.
“Thanks,” I whispered as I took the seat next to him. I glanced around, trying to spot Megan in the crowd. Finn watched me for a minute before raising his eyebrows.
“Who are you looking for?”
“Me? Nobody.” I dismissed him with a wave as I craned my neck and squinted, trying to make out the features of a dark-haired girl a few rows behind us. My heart dropped to my feet with a nearly audible thud—it was Penny Charles, not Megan. We’d been partners on an astronomy project in junior high. Penny dreams an awful lot about fishing.
“Yeah, obviously—nobody.” Finn laughed and turned his attention back to the stage. He let out a low whistle. “Wow, check that out.”
“Uh-huh,” I said without even a glance forward. It had to be one of the many cute girls that Finn was into and I wasn’t. In junior high, every girl I’d found interesting ended up having dreams about us getting married—even having kids. I hate watching myself in other people’s dreams. No one should have to do that. It’s like being possessed and having an out-of-body experience at the same time. What made it worse was my fear that the dreams were a lie—that I’d never live long enough to do either of those things. It was enough to cure me of any attraction I felt for the girls at school.
Yet here I was, pulling a stupid neck muscle trying to spot one at the assembly. And she wasn’t even here.
I sighed and slouched back in my chair. The idea that I’d never see Megan again, never feel so rested again, was like a dump truck driving onto my chest and then parking there. Everything felt so tight around me that my vision swam, and it scared me. I needed to chill out. It was just one night, and it had probably been a fluke anyway.
Back to reality, Parker.
The stage was full of bouncing cheerleaders. Their swirling, colorful skirts made my head hurt. Jeff Sparks grinned and walked across the stage as they cheered. Leading the pep assemblies seemed to be Jeff’s favorite part of being senior class president. It didn’t hurt that it meant he could throw in at least one mention of soccer, whatever sport the pep rally was actually for.
Scattered around the stage, behind Jeff, stood more than half the jocks at school. I was probably supposed to be up there—Finn, too, for that matter—but he was a slacker and I didn’t care enough at the moment.
I watched Jeff, trying to distract myself from the misery that clung to my bones even after I could finally breathe normally again. He was perfectly at home up there in front of the entire school, smiling, his arms spread wide. I thought it was a little over-the-top, but he always said he liked putting on a good show.
“Logandale isn’t even going to see our football team coming! The Oakville Boulders are going to pulverize them and head to Regionals!” Jeff nodded and pumped a fist in the air. “Then we can shift our focus to my personal favorite sport: soccer.” He winked at the audience. “I have a feeling we’ll have our best season yet this spring!”
A cheer rose from the crowd and a couple cheerleaders on stage jumped up and down with their pom-poms. Jeff was certainly entertaining everyone else, but not me. I wanted to go home. I sat forward, rubbing my shaking hands against my thighs to try to still a tremor. I felt better than usual, for sure, but one night of sleep wasn’t enough to change my future.
“Now, it wouldn’t be fair for me to take all this support and attention for myself. I may be Senior Class President, but our soccer team has two captains. And since I have some good soccer news to share, don’t you think Parker Chipp should be up here to share it with me?”
Next to me, Finn laughed and elbowed me in the side. I blinked at him for a minute before what Jeff said sank in. I shrunk down in my seat, hoping no one would see me. I couldn’t take being the center of attention. Please, not right now.
The chanting started soft and got louder. “Parker! Parker! Parker!” It wasn’t until people shoved me from the back that I finally got up, waved at everyone, and sat back down.
“Aww, c’mon, Parker. Don’t be shy. Come up here!”
I growled under my breath but then stood and walked up to the stage. I spotted Addie as I went and mouthed the words “Help me.” She giggled and rolled her eyes as the cheerleaders rushed down the stairs and pulled me up next to Jeff.
In one last, futile attempt, I threw a quick glance through the crowd for Megan again but couldn’t see much. The lights were too bright, too hot—too uncomfortable. Jeff slapped my back and grinned.
He leaned over and spoke quietly in my ear. “Thanks, man. I know you aren’t an attention hound, but we gotta get everybody pumped, you know?”
“No problem.” I shrugged and stuck my hands in the pockets of my letterman jacket. Jeff turned back to the audience.
“Next Friday, the athletics department is sponsoring a bonfire rally out on Rush Beach. Everyone is invited to come and support our teams. Bring whatever you want to roast on the fire—as long as it isn’t the Logandale quarterback. We don’t need any extra help to beat them!”
A roar of laughter and applause filled the auditorium. I let out a small laugh too. One of the cheerleaders, Anna Connors, caught my attention with a little wave. I turned to face her, and she winked and beamed at me. Her long blond hair floated around her, hugging her curves. I waved back, trying to suppress a shudder. She was crazy hot, no doubt about it, but I still couldn’t look at her without remembering a dream she’d had in junior high about French kissing her cat. I knew it was probably just a random bizarre dream, but it had cured me of any interest immediately. It was one of those unfortunate images that sticks with you.
Jeff took a step forward and continued. “As for the soccer news, I’m here to give you my personal assurance that the soccer season won’t end only with my team winning State.”
The auditorium quieted down and murmurs circulated.
“The girls’ team is going to go all the way too!” Jeff nodded into the silence that followed.
Everyone knew the girls’ soccer team struggled. They rarely even made it to Regionals, let alone to State. Like every other student in the auditorium, I watched Jeff, waiting for him to continue. What was he talking about?
“We have a secret weapon this year, and I’m happy to introduce her to you,” he announced. “She’s new. She’s got amazing footwork, and I’m happy to say that even I have a hard time stealing the ball from her.” He grinned at the crowd. “I can still do it, of course, but it’s not easy.”
He paused for dramatic effect. “Oakville’s new star soccer player—Mia Greene!” Swinging one arm toward the cluster of people at the back of the stage, Jeff beckoned her forward.
I didn’t even turn around to look. If Megan wasn’t at the assembly, I wanted to either go home or drive to Logandale High and look around. Then I realized that everyone else was craning their necks to look past me, so I stepped to one side and followed their gazes.
After only a moment’s hesitation, the same little brunette I’d nearly killed with my car walked out from behind the football team. She raised one eyebrow at me as she passed and took her place beside Jeff.
Megan—no, Mia—dre
ams of not painting.
Why had she told me her name was Megan? Then again, random teenage boy who apparently looks like he’s on drugs almost hits you with his car … I guessed I could see the reasoning.
I gave my head a quick shake. Who cared why? My heart almost burst from my chest. She went to my school! I tried to wipe the grin from my face, but it didn’t work and I didn’t care.
It wasn’t until she was standing at the front of the stage that I noticed the clenched fists behind her back, and that in spite of the small smile on her face, she looked angry. I grimaced. Apparently she hadn’t gotten over the near-accident yet.
Jeff moved to block Mia from my view and raised his eyebrows at me for a second. I realized I was staring with my mouth hanging partially open. I shut it with a click, and he gestured for me to come closer. Once I got to his side, he turned back to the crowd, throwing one arm around me and the other around Mia.
“This year, Boulders, we are unstoppable! Our football team will beat Logandale! Then we’ll take State in girls’ and boys’ soccer! And we want to see everyone at the rally next Friday!”
The crowd yelled, “Boulders! Boulders! Boulders!” Then the burgundy curtains swung across the front of the stage, cutting us off from the burning lights and the chanting crowd. Jeff dropped his arm from around our shoulders and guided Mia a few steps to the right, smiling and asking what she thought of the assembly. I couldn’t make out her response with the chattering of everyone else on the stage, but it didn’t matter. My brain was still processing so fast I couldn’t have focused on her words much anyway.
I swallowed. She was here. My hands stopped shaking and a warm gush of relief flowed through my chest, down my arms, and out through my fingertips. The only person who might be able to keep me alive was here, standing five feet away from me.
six
Addie and Finn came up the stairs on the side of the stage and trotted over to me. Finn was carrying his backpack on one shoulder and mine on the other.
Insomnia (The Night Walkers) Page 4
