by Lee Strauss
What? My mouth dried up like the desert. I had to risk spilling my coffee, now unappetizingly lukewarm. I took a sip.
@mathmatters: I’m just kidding, Mars!
Why’d she call me that?
@averagegeek99: Why’d you call me that?
@mathmatters: I called you that in my dream. I’ll stop if you don’t like it.
Oh, God. I was so freaked out.
@averagegeek99: No, it’s fine. I like it. You can call me anything you want. Where do you want to meet? Lit Café again?
@mathmatters: Sure. Tomorrow, 7 p.m.?
@averagegeek99: Can’t, got a class. Next day?
@mathmatters: Okay. See you then, Mars. ;)
6

Sage
I was still skeptical about the support group, but one good thing had come of it. Eliza and I had become friends. She was also a freshman, in general studies, which meant she hadn’t decided which track she wanted to major in yet. Dirty-blond curls that escaped the pom-pom on the back of her head framed a heart-shape face with large hazel eyes and a cute upturned nose.
We sat on Eliza’s old woven Mexican blanket on green space in the center of campus. Eliza wore loose, flowing layers of every shade of red and brown with skirts that ended at army boots tied with red laces at her ankles. A beaded macrame choker was fastened snugly around her slender neck. In contrast, I wore boring jeans, a washed-out-blue short-sleeved T with the words Einstein is my homie scribbled over my chest and no jewelry.
The spring sunshine warmed our faces as we picked at fries and milkshakes from a fast-food joint nearby.
“So what’s your drug of choice?” I asked with a sly grin.
She jerked back with wide eyes. “I don’t do drugs.”
“I didn’t mean real drugs,” I explained quickly. “I meant your passion.”
“Oh.” She picked at the grass by her feet. “I write.”
“Are you going into journalism?”
“That’s everyone’s first assumption, but actually, I write fiction.”
“Cool. I love to read. What’s your genre?”
“Mystery.”
I arched a brow. I would’ve called romance or literary fiction. “That’s cool.”
“What about you? What’s your math drug?” She wrinkled her nose. “Is there even such a thing?”
“Einstein is my hero.” I pointed to my T-shirt. “His equation for his theory of relativity was not only groundbreaking, it’s simply beautiful. It revolutionized how scientists understood gravity by describing the force as a warping of the fabric of space and time.”
“Excuse me as my eyes gloss over,” Eliza said with a smirk.
“Sorry, I got carried away there.”
“No worries. Do you have a boyfriend?”
I sighed. “I used to. Tristan bailed after Teagan died. My emotional baggage was too much for him to handle.”
Eliza scowled. “He doesn’t sound like a keeper anyway.”
“I guess. It’s not like we were super serious. But I did like him a lot. And to be fair, he was really busy with the swim team over the winter.” I sipped the last of my chocolate milk, making rude noises with my straw. I glanced back at Eliza. “What about you?”
“Nah. No one special so far. I’d like to though. Someday.”
“I think you might have an admirer,” I said with a nod. I’d noticed a skinny, bearded guy sitting at a round cement outdoor table, casting numerous glances our direction, but always landing on Eliza. He quickly looked away when he saw me stare back.
“Really?” Eliza said. “Who?”
“The guy at that table. He’s been staring at you the whole time we’ve been sitting here.”
Eliza turned around and considered the guy. He froze with a stunned look of horror on his face. Eliza lifted a hand and waved. The guy jumped like a startled deer and ran.
I laughed out loud. “What was that about?”
“His name is Zee or Zed or some Z name. He’s in my English lit class.”
“I think he’s smitten.”
“You think?”
I almost giggled. “Undoubtedly.”
“I’ve never had a guy like me before,” she said.
“I find that hard to believe.”
“It’s true. I’ve always been awkward.”
“The Z-man might be your match then.”
Eliza’s eyes glinted. “Maybe.”
The sun had lowered behind one of the taller buildings. I put all my trash into the paper bag the food came in. A wave of fatigue hit me and I held in a yawn. “I gotta run,” I said. “It was nice hanging out.”
“Yeah. I guess I’ll see you at the next meeting?”
I hadn’t decided for certain if I was going to keep going to the support group, but Eliza looked at me with such eagerness. I found I couldn’t say no. “Sure,” I said. “I’ll see you there.”
Nora was primping herself when I got back to the dorm.
“Another date with Jake?” I asked. It came out with a sharpness I didn’t intend.
“I thought you were okay with my seeing him?”
“I am. I’m sorry.”
“You should come out with us,” Nora said as she slipped her creamy white arms into a shimmering blouse.
I clicked my tongue. “And be your third wheel? No thanks.”
“We could invite someone else to come along. Jake’s friend Chet is kind of cute.”
I wrinkled my nose. “You’re kidding, right? He never looks anyone in the eye. Or washes his hair. Besides, I’m not into hockey players.”
“How do you know that? Have you ever dated a hockey player?” Nora’s ginger eyebrows danced. “They play well off the ice too.”
“Ew.”
“Okay, not Chet, but what about another one of Jake’s friends. Who do you think is cute?”
I flopped on my bed. “I’m not really up to dating right now.”
“Don’t tell me you’re still pining over Tristan What’s His Name?”
“No!”
Nora scoffed. “Me thinks you do protest too much.”
“I’m over Tristan.” Nora shot me a doubtful look.
“I am!”
“Okay, good. Then come out with me.”
My pillow felt exceptionally soft. I closed my eyes. “Another time, Nora. I’m really tired.”
Nora touched up her makeup before flying out the door. “Don’t say I didn’t try.”
It was barely eight o’clock, but so many restless nights had taken their toll and I wanted to fall into a coma and sleep until noon the next day. I knew I wouldn’t be able to do that without help. I eyed the little brown bottle of gel pills I’d gotten from Dr. Parker on my night table beside the glass of stale water. I’d resisted taking one for the last two nights because I didn’t want to get hooked or anything. But once in a while wouldn’t hurt. I just really needed to sleep. I took the pill, closed my eyes and embraced the heavy blanket of unconsciousness that engulfed me.
I’m on the dock, the one with the twin metal-wrapped pilings. The wind is crisp and fresh with early spring air. A ribbon of light etches the horizon.
A ginger-headed boy approaches. He doesn’t step onto the dock. We lock eyes and I’m suddenly hit with an overwhelming sadness. My chest aches and my eyes burn with tears. The boy steps down the cement stairs beside the dock that wash away into the canal. Up to his knees, then his hips. I call to him, but he won’t look back at me. The water rises to his chest and then touches his chin.
My feet are pinned to the dock. Terror squeezes my chest and blocks my throat. The boy is going to drown, but I can’t help him. My body won’t respond.
I hear a soft slapping of water and look up to see a rowboat in the distance. I want to wave my arms, but they’re pinned to my side. I open my mouth to call for help but no sound comes out.
The rowboat draws nearer. Close enough to reach the boy, but the occupant doesn’t try to help him. The oars still as the boy’s
head disappears.
The rower smiles and I’m horrified. Eyes, yellow like a snake’s, are mesmerizing. I can’t stop staring back.
A chill creeps down my spine, and somehow I know I’m next.
I snapped awake in a cool sweat. A bright light shone overhead, and a cold wind slapped my face. I blinked as my mind registered where I was—in the parking lot behind the dorm, standing under a street lamp. It was the middle of the night and not another soul was about.
7

Marlow
I removed my glasses to massage my temples. The headaches were coming more frequently, but I chalked it up to stress and the extra screen time that came with exams. I pushed the frames back on, wondering why I still wore the dumb things. I’d had my eyes lasered recently, but never told Zed or any of my friends slash acquaintances. There were some awkward circumstances surrounding the procedure I couldn’t get into. I should’ve made a story up after the Christmas break, but the truth was, I liked wearing glasses. Even phony ones like mine with clear lenses. They were part of my geek identity. I felt weirdly exposed when I didn’t have them on. The whole “the eyes are the windows to the soul” thing may be true. I didn’t want people to get too close. They might not like what they see.
I waited for the coffees I ordered and then found a free table in the middle of the room. The Literary Café was painted a warm brown and smelled like caffeine and cinnamon. Shelves on one side of the room were filled with coffee beans and coffee-making items, and on the other side were shelves of books. Some fiction, some technical. It was a take one, leave one arrangement. A few cozy chairs were tucked in the corners with soft lamps lighting them for those who chose to read while sipping their latté.
I watched the door and straightened when Sage walked in. She spotted me right away and approached the table.
“Hi,” she said, then blinked at the steaming mug of coffee sitting at the empty spot reserved for her.
“I went ahead and bought for both of us. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No, of course not. Thanks.” She sat, hung a bag on the back of her chair and pushed the sleeves of her sweater up to her elbows.
“Nice glasses,” I said. “Are they new?”
“No.” She pushed purple frames up the bridge of her nose self-consciously. “I have a few, but these are my favorite. I use to wear contacts, but my eyes… I’m not sleeping well and they’re all bloodshot and dried out.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?”
She scooped a strand of dark hair, twisted it and tossed it over her shoulder. “Stress maybe. Lingering grief over Teagan. Nightmares.”
“Nightmares?”
Her brow furrowed. “I keep dreaming about people drowning. I had another one last night. At least this time there wasn’t a drowning in real life to match.”
“That’s good.” I blew over my coffee before sipping. “Why do you think you’re having drowning dreams?”
“I don’t know. Some deep-seated fear? I do feel like I’m losing myself. Since Teagan died…”
“What about the other dreams?” I asked. “The ones with me in them.”
She scratched at her exposed forearms. “Those are strange.”
I leaned forward. “You think your subconscious is trying to tell you something?”
“Like what?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer that. Do I tell her she was dreaming about my experiences?
“Maybe you’re tapping into something deeper?”
“Like a hidden message?” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t believe in that new age stuff.”
“Not new age stuff. Science stuff. Stuff that is often categorised as science fiction.” I fidgeted nervously and added, “But actually isn’t.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re not making sense.”
“Like, maybe fringe science isn’t that far out there.”
“For example?”
“For example… parallel universes.”
Sage leaned back in her chair. “Seriously? What do parallel universes—and I’m not saying they exist or don’t exist—have to do with my dreams?”
This was going the wrong way. “Nothing probably.” I leaned back and took another sip. “Maybe I’m not the right person to talk to about this.”
“Yeah. I’ll ask about dreams at my next meeting.”
“What meeting?”
“My brother convinced me to go to a support group.”
I adjusted my glasses. Nervous habit. “What kind of support group?”
“One for people struggling with mental issues.”
“Oh.”
Sage chuckled at my look. “Don’t worry. I’m not crazy.”
I sputtered back, “I know that.”
Her phone buzzed and she checked for a new text. Her eyes widened like she was surprised.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Tristan. My ex-boyfriend.”
I squinted with confusion. Why hadn’t I heard about Tristan before? “How ex?”
“We broke up when Teagan died. We almost got back together once, but…”
I knew it wasn’t any of my business, but I couldn’t stop myself from probing.
“But?”
“He said I’d changed too much. What he meant was he couldn’t deal with my new set of dark moods. I can’t blame him, really.”
“What’s he want now?”
Sage drew in a breath. “He wants to hang out.”
I had no right to Sage, but the thought of a boyfriend, especially an old boyfriend that came with history, made my gut clench.
“Are you going to do it?” I asked tightly.
If Sage noticed my annoyance, she didn’t let on.
“Maybe. He’s at the pool right now. Wants to meet me after his practice.” She smiled apologetically and explained. “He’s on the swim team.”
Great. An athlete. Which meant he had a good body, unlike my skinny physique. I crossed my arms. “Awesome.”
Sage tossed the phone into her bag. “I’m sorry. I need to leave now if I’m going to get to the pool complex on time.”
“Sure,” I said, trying to sound like I couldn’t care less. “No problem.”
“Next time’s on me.”
8

Sage
My hands were trembling and I knew it had more to do with the sudden invitation to meet up with Tristan Coy than the strong java I’d just ingested.
I couldn’t believe I was sitting on the bus heading for the pool complex. Was I that easy? Tristan texts me once and I come running? Why did I do that? He had me under some kind of spell. I really should get off at the next stop and catch the next bus going in the opposite direction.
I should’ve, but I didn’t. Despite everything we’d been through, I wanted to see Tristan. Even though we’d been a couple for only three months, it was passionate and intense. We met at the beginning of the school year during the freshman mixer hosted by the juniors. Tristan was in charge of handing out name tags.
I remember how I quivered when he pinned mine on for me, something he did for only a few select girls. “Sage,” he said with his husky voice. “Nice to meet you.”
By the end of the evening, we had made plans to meet again, and things took off quickly between us. I fell in love swiftly—at least I thought I was in love. Now I wasn’t sure. Everything was great for the first couple months, until I found out that Tristan had wandering eyes. In early November he’d told me he didn’t want to break up, but he thought we should date other people too. I was devastated.
Tristan dated other people. I didn’t. Instead, I stewed and languished in my newly felt hatred for him. I should’ve dated again, and maybe I would’ve, except Tristan never stopped contacting me. Each text and email renewed hope that he wanted me back, and every time I dropped whatever it was I was doing and came running.
I was pitiful.
The bus stopped right in front of the pool. My heart thumped,
rolled, did the Macarena. Tristan was in there. Waiting for me.
I was the last person to get off.
The pool complex was on the northeast side of campus. It housed several pools including an Olympic sized lane pool and an adjacent diving pool. The grounds included a manmade canal for the rowing team. The exterior of the building could use a new coat of paint and the grounds needed a pick-me-up but the interior was in pretty good shape.
I was assaulted by the familiar scent of chlorine. Familiar in that when Tristan and I were a real couple, I’d spent a lot of time at pools watching him practice the front crawl and butterfly. I wasn’t much of a swimmer myself, but that wasn’t an issue, since Tristan never swam for pleasure.
I waited in the lobby as instructed by Tristan’s texts and scratched at my arms, something I did when I felt nervous. Red lines broke through my winter-pale skin. I pulled my sweater sleeves down to cover my self-abuse.
My mouth was dry as dirt, so I drank from the water fountain against the wall. I wiped my wet chin with the back of my hand and that was when I saw him exit the changing rooms.
Beautiful, with honey-blond hair still damp from his recent shower, and caramel-colored eyes. He was really tall at 6’ 5”, making my height of 5’ 8” feel short. His full lips pulled up into a half-smile when he spotted me, and my knees almost buckled.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.”
He stepped closer. “I’m so glad you came.”
“Well, yeah,” I said. “I had a free block.” I was trying for careless and nonchalant but doubted it was working. I folded my arms to fortify myself. “I don’t have much time. What do you want?”
“Sage.” His clean-shaven chin bent low as he looked down at me. “We’re friends, right? It’s been a while. I wanted to see how you were doing. Last time we saw each other, you weren’t doing so well.”
“I’m better now,” I said quickly. I didn’t want to come across as weak. Tristan didn’t deal well with weakness.
“That’s great.” He nodded to the door. “Do you want to go for a walk?”
