The Dreamer

by E. J. Mellow

  Rae is laid back and charismatic, acutely aware of Becca at his side, and I catch him brush his hand over her thigh more than once under the table. His presence doesn’t go unnoticed by the other females in the bar, who are leering at us with green eyes of jealousy.

  “Let’s do shots!” Becca proclaims with delight.

  “I’m game,” I say, feeling the effects of my previous two drinks and accepting the carefree whims of my friend. She winks at me before jumping up and going to the bar. I smile at Rae, happy at how our night is turning out for Becca. He surprises me by wearing a contemplative expression.

  “Do you think you should be drinking so much?” he asks, leaning in and speaking softly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t think alcohol is the best choice since you just got hit by lightning,” he says authoritatively.

  Whoa.

  When did I tell him that?

  I stare at him, wide eyed, unable to respond for a moment. I try to sift through the past hour of conversation, but the alcohol in my blood is making it all a little fuzzy. Deciding that we must have talked about it, I respond, “I don’t think a shot will kill me.” I maintain a playful tone, but I’m a little resentful of this guy—we just met!—trying to school me on what is and isn’t good for me.

  Becca saunters back just as Rae is about to say something else. He quickly paints his face into the blithe countenance he was wearing earlier. I eye him suspiciously.

  “Did I miss anything good?” Becca asks as she places the three shot glasses on the table.

  “Nope, we were just talking about how lucky I was to bump into Molly tonight.” Rae smiles at Becca.

  “Oh?” She looks back and forth between the two of us.

  “Because then I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of meeting you.” He finishes by bringing her into his side. She all but swoons in his arms. I pick up one of the shots and shoot it back. Ugh, tequila. It burns the whole way down.

  “Hey! We were supposed to do them together!” Becca scowls. I just shrug. Rae frowns.

  I suddenly want to get ass-ripping drunk.

  Two drinks and another shot later, I need to go home. I’m starting to sweat from the increase of body heat coming off the influx of people walking into the bar and the abundance of alcohol burning its way through my veins.

  “Hey, guys, I think I’m going to get out of here.” I work hard not to slur any of my words.

  Rae and Becca have been leaning toward each other, talking about something that kept making Rae laugh. Ever heard of a room? Preferably one I’m not in, kids.

  “Aww, no, Mols! We were just saying how we should find another bar, one a little more quiet.” Becca wraps her arm around my shoulder and gives me a look that fully explains what she really means by “quiet.”

  Yeeeah, definitely not sticking around for that.

  “You guys keep hanging out. I’m feeling really tired. I probably should’ve been in bed hours ago.” I nudge her side, signaling that I really don’t mind and she should stay out. She grins before switching to her serious face.

  “You okay to go home by yourself?”

  “Yeah, of course. I’ll grab a cab. Don’t worry about me.” I stand and Rae stands with me. I smile at the gentlemanlike gesture. He’ll treat Becca well.

  “Rae, it was a pleasure to meet you. Thanks for saving me from the bro-squad earlier.” I strain to hug him around the neck, even in my heels.

  “Anything for a friend.”

  For some reason, it doesn’t sound like he’s referring to me, but I’m too drunk to contemplate anything more than putting one foot in front of the other without falling. Really shouldn’t have done that last shot.

  “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again,” he says while tugging Becca to him. I hear her sigh. Yup, she’s got it bad.

  “I hope so too,” I say genuinely.

  Even though Rae confused me at points tonight, I’m strangely comfortable around him. It could be because of his naturally gregarious disposition or the fact that I’m pretty drunk. I’d like to go with the former.

  It takes a couple of tries with my keys to finally get my door open. I imagine tiny shot glasses with wings are flapping around my head, and I swat at them as I stumble over my threshold. My temples throb, and I curse that I can’t take any of my pain medication.

  Managing to chug a glass of water, I slide my body over my bed. My phone beeps from my purse. With great effort I collect it to see a text from Jared, but since my vision is too blurry to read anything, I throw it to the side and rest my face back on my cool sheets. Letting out a contented sigh, I’m slightly aware that I’m still fully clothed, but way too relaxed in my current state to care. I close my eyes and push away the spinning that reminds me that I’ll hate myself in the morning.

  As I drift into the darkness, I can already begin to smell the refreshing scent of night, and my memories thrust through the intoxication of my brain to tell me I’m on my way back to a place that is only unlocked when I sleep.

  With no great effort, I welcome it forward.

  — 11 —

  ROLLING TO MY side, I moan as a million tiny monsters hack away at my brain. I hate tiny, brain-hacking monsters. A piece of grass tickles the inside of my nose, and I brush it away, groaning at the effect that such a meager movement has on my distressed head.

  I manage to slowly rest on my back and open my eyes, gazing up at the small burning orbs in the distance, shooting across the dark abyss of the sky. I’m in the same place I dreamt of last night (and I’m pretty sure the nights prior as well). My recollection of this place only resurfaces when I’m here.

  I take in a few deep breaths, trying to settle the queasy feeling in my stomach, and gingerly sit up. To my right is the familiar tree that I’m beginning to believe is my dream’s favorite starting point. The branches loom over me, casting a shadow on the grass below. I crawl to the tree and sit against its trunk, leaning my head on the cool wood and closing my eyes.

  “Had a little too much fun?”

  I jump at the familiar husky voice, aggravating my nausea. “Please stop doing that,” I groan.

  The soft laughter that follows causes a dozen memories to tear through me like birds catching flight. I don’t need to see his face to know who it is, but I look over anyway. Dev leans against the tree, staring down at me. Even from my low vantage point, I can make out his darkly handsome face and signature amused smile.

  I give another groan and roll forward, putting my head in my hands. Just kill me now. I hate that he’s seeing me like this. I feel Dev take a seat beside me, and even though I’m in pain, my body reacts instantly to his proximity, calming the sharp throb in my head and dissolving me into liquid heat.

  “What’s the celebration?” he asks.

  “Being a Saturday,” I grunt out.

  “Hmm.”

  Silence.

  “I think I like what you normally sleep in compared to this.” He tugs at the blazer I fell asleep in.

  Couldn’t even take off your jacket, Molly? I bring up the image of my revealing sleepwear, and with my head still in my hands, say, “I think that should offend me, but I feel too horrible to care at the moment.”

  He chuckles.

  The other times I’ve found myself here, I’ve never really felt the usual aches and pains of when I was awake. This is decidedly different. Picking my head up, I glance at Dev, catching the small amount of concern etched on his face. When our eyes meet, he shifts back to amusement.

  “Dev?”

  “Yes, Molly?” he says, lacing my name with a prick of pleasure, which makes my stomach tighten again, though not from alcohol.

  “Why do I still feel drunk here if I’m supposed to be dreaming?”

  He studies me before scratching his scruff, apparently debating if he should answer. “Well, your mind here is the same mind you’ve got when you’re awake. So, if your brain is still drunk right before you go to sleep, why wouldn’t it stay that way wh
en you’re asleep?”

  I guess that logic makes sense.

  “So I guess that means I really am dreaming. None of this is real?” I motion to our surroundings.

  He quirks his mouth up and lightly knocks his shoulder into mine. “It would seem so, wouldn’t it?”

  I sigh and turn away. It was worth a try.

  Dev stands, extending his hand, and I follow the length of it all the way up to his face, momentarily mesmerized by the inviting blue eyes staring down into mine. “Come on.” He wiggles his fingers. “I want to show you something.”

  As he helps me up, I lose my balance and fall forward, grabbing his arm to steady myself. I don’t know if it’s a subconscious impulse or something I’ve less-than-subconsciously wanted to do since the first moment I saw him, but my hand inadvertently squeezes Dev’s smoothly sculpted bicep.

  “Molly…” Dev laughs. “Are you feeling my muscle?”

  I think I just died inside.

  “What? No!” I take a few staggering steps back.

  Oh God! Why can’t I wake up when something like this happens?

  “I mean, you’re welcome to feel them.” He teasingly extends his flexed arm.

  “Just…shut up.” I slap his impressively rock-hard bicep and he laughs again. “Actually…you know what?” I say, annoyed. “I don’t think I’m in the mood to see whatever it is you want to show me after all.” I hardly take a step away when Dev hooks one of his arms around my waist and easily twirls me to face him.

  “I’d rather not be manhandled,” I say through gritted teeth, trying to regain some composure and ignoring my lurching stomach.

  “So you think I’m a man?” His eyes sparkle with humor.

  “Gah!” Raising my hands, I push him off and walk away. I can’t win with this guy. “Whatever. Let’s go see what’s so great.”

  Tight-lipped from suppressing a smile, Dev quickly falls into step beside me.

  After a while of trudging in my suede heels and having them stick more than once in the soft ground, I decide it would be better to take them off. Unsuccessfully balancing on one leg to remove my shoes, I gratefully grab the hand Dev offers. When I’m finally barefoot, I try to remove my hand from his, but he doesn’t let go.

  With an unreadable expression he looks at our connection and interlocks his fingers with mine. My heart begins to skip like rocks over a pond, and I’m confused and slightly flustered by Dev’s actions. But what worries me the most is that I have no desire to remove my hand from his.

  He begins to walk again, seemingly oblivious or indifferent to our hand-in-hand situation.

  I feel anything but indifferent.

  His skin is cool and strong between my fingers, and my stomach tightens as his thumb begins to circle the sensitive part of my palm, sending scorching desire for him to areas besides my hand.

  I swallow.

  This isn’t good.

  We eventually reach a small plateau where the grass stops and a light gravel paves the ground. I follow the new terrain with my eyes and stop when it disappears over a ledge. Dev reluctantly lets go as I slowly step forward, and my jaw goes slack from the expansion of the wonder before me.

  A huge gaping canyon that seems miles wide and miles deep stretches out in front of me. With the low glow of the night, it’s hard to discern what colors lace through the expanded mass and what sits at the bottom. In this darkness, it goes on endlessly.

  My stomach does a little flip, and I step back from the ledge. “This is amazing,” I whisper, as though any noise is too loud for this commanding place.

  “I come here every so often,” Dev says from behind me. “It’s strangely humbling to look at something bigger than yourself.”

  I smile, picturing him here alone, reflective. The image is at odds with how I perceive him. “I’ve wondered what was beyond the field—if it kept on going,” I say as I glance back toward him.

  Dev sits on a rock facing the canyon and pats the surface next to him invitingly. Taking a seat, we both gaze into the silent night. When his thigh brushes against mine from our close proximity, I grow flush and decide to take off my blazer, hoping it will cool me down. I quickly realize this makes the heat much worse. Our bare arms touch, and the contact creates a fever inside my skin that travels deep.

  I need us to talk about something, anything, and fast.

  “So, do you think you’ll ever explain why you always know when I’m here?”

  His lips twitch. “One day, if you’re lucky, I’ll show you.”

  “What does that even mean?”

  “You’ll understand when the time’s right.”

  I shake my head. “Well, can you at least give me a straight answer about something when I’m awake?”

  Dev looks at me hesitantly. “I can try.”

  “Why can’t I remember you when I wake up?”

  Pain flutters across his features and then is gone. He stands and walks to the lip of the canyon. I stare at his tensed back as a moment of silence passes before he speaks. “Your brain is completely closed off when you sleep, only concentrating on resting. So it’s easier for you to remember me here than out there.” He gestures vaguely to the space in front of us. “When you wake up, you have a lot more to think about, so the things that happen while you sleep get pushed to the back of your mind.”

  I make my way to stand beside him. “So will I remember that you just told me this?”

  He turns, glancing down at me. “I’m not really sure. I’m still trying to figure out how much you’ll remember.” His eyes shine, reflecting the shooting stars above and in this moment seem completely open for me to dive into.

  “Why? What else is there to tell me?”

  He takes a step forward and pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. I try very hard to keep my breathing steady. “There’s nothing else. I’m not sure why I said those things. You must be making them up for me to say.”

  I’m not convinced. I wasn’t thinking of anything for him to say. Could I really be conjuring this whole place into existence? Is he really just a dream? Feeling more confused than ever, I turn away.

  “Mols…” He says my name like a caress.

  I’ve never heard him call me by my nickname, and it does strange things to my body. I look back and catch the conflict in his features: frustration, sadness, acceptance. That’s when another memory bursts through my vision, like a bright flash from a bulb. Dev and I are on a beach, and he’s giving me the same torn look. Another flash. The first night, when he couldn’t see me. The night he and Aveline found me lying under the tree. Our surroundings changing when Dev’s sea-blue eyes remind me of the ocean. The apartment and Tim. Our bodies pressed together on the zipline. All these moments string together, bringing me back to the present.

  A tingling sensation runs up my spine and races the length of my arms. I take in a shaky breath. This can’t be just a dream.

  “Are you cold?” he asks as he skims my now goose-bumped skin, making me shiver even more. I shake my head. “If it makes you feel any better,” he says in a soft, deep voice, “I never forget you when you leave.” Blood rushes to my cheeks, and I’m thankful for the constant coverage of night this land provides.

  Dev moves closer, and I close my eyes, unsure of what to do, knowing that what I truly want to do makes no sense.

  He’s not real.

  But the smell of him, as I breathe in, seems impossible to fake.

  “Molly, I can’t explain it, but there’s something about you that makes me know this is all happening for a reason,” he says so quietly I can barely hear him. I’m inches away from being able to kiss his dangerously sensual mouth. “You’re my hope.” He holds my gaze, and I understand the reference he’s making to my last name. The air between our bodies crackles with an angry desire for one of us to close the gap, and I’m about to be that one, when a strange orange glow rises in the distance.

  Dev quickly takes a step back, turning to stare at a light that seems to be coming from a
massive fire in the direction we just came. He curses and moves toward the brightness, dowsing the blaze that was almost ignited between us.

  “What is it?” I call out in concern.

  He spins around, blinking as though he forgot for a moment I was with him. He curses again. “You have to wake up now,” he says and I’m still reeling from our almost-passionate exchange that I don’t completely grasp what he’s saying. He takes quick, long strides back to me and grabs my shoulders. “Listen, you have to wake up. I have to go,” he repeats, a little softer but with urgency.

  “I’ll go with you.”

  He immediately shakes his head. “No. That’s not an option.”

  “Well, I’m not staying here.”

  “I know. You’re going to wake up.”

  I eye him defiantly. “How? You can’t make me.”

  Dev glances quickly at the ravine. The crooked smile that morphs onto his face scares me a little, and I take a step back. He follows me with a step forward.

  “Dev?” I say his name like I’m not quite sure that this is the same man who was, until recently, gently proclaiming that I was his hope.

  “I’m extremely sorry, but it’s for your own good.” He continues to move closer. My feet touch the lip of the canyon.

  “What is?” I dare to ask.

  “This.”

  And then he shoves me over the ledge.

  For one tenth of a second, I lock on to Dev’s apologetic eyes before I let out an earsplitting scream and race the gathering blackness to my imminent and unexpected death.

  — 12 —

  I JERK TO the side of my bed, choking on my own cries. I thrash violently and grip my sheets, trying to claw my way out of the hurtling sensation of falling off a cliff.

  Holy shit!

  My heart’s plastered between my ribs, forcing itself to keep beating. A cold sweat erupts on my skin as it realizes it’s not torn apart on a rocky floor. When my mind disengages from the horrid fate within my dream, the late onset of last night’s intoxication wretches in my stomach. I quickly run to the toilet and expel every last substance residing in my abdomen.