January Dreams

by Carrigan Richards

  I take out my book and slam the door. “What do you want?” I snap. When I look up, genuine confusion and what looks like hurt flashes in his eyes, but maybe it’s my mind playing tricks.

  “Nothing,” he finally says and walks away without looking back. I don’t know why I feel guilty for how I acted toward him. But I do. Maybe it was his solemn demeanor. I’ve never seen him act like that or knew him to be that way. I am somehow known as an emo kid so maybe he thinks I’m into that as a way to mess with me. I shake my head. He’s just playing a cruel joke.

  When I get home, Ron is there, feigning sickness. He annoys me. He never works. He always goes in late, leaves early, or takes two-hour lunches and anytime he needs money, he goes running to his parents for it. All while demanding my paycheck to help pay for my car, they say. With the constant battles between my mom and dad over child support, money is always a messy subject with my parents.

  Unfortunately, because I’m grounded and I am off work, Friday nights are torture, and on this particular night, it worsens when Mom comes home. She opens my door and greets me with a look I know all too well that tells me I’m in trouble. Her lips are pressed tightly together, and she stares at me with a hardness that intimidates me. My mom used to be cool, but ever since she married Ron, she changed. He feeds her lies to get me in trouble and she believes every word.

  “What?” I ask softly.

  “Were you going to cut class all day today?” She folds her arms across her chest.

  “No. I overslept. I think I forgot to turn on my alarm.”

  “Ron says you had planned on staying home all day.”

  Of course, he said that. I don’t get the appeal of lying. Is he trying to make himself look good? “I didn’t say that. He woke me up and I left.”

  “Did you go to school?”

  “Yes. They would’ve called—”

  “I saw your car at the mall,” Ron interjects.

  I laugh. “It wasn’t mine.”

  “I saw a silver Volvo.”

  “Really? Am I the only person who drives an ancient, silver Volvo?” I probably am, but that’s beside the point.

  “Megan,” Mom warns.

  “I know it was yours because I know your tag number.”

  “What were you doing at the mall? Weren’t you supposed to be working?”

  His face turns red and he glares at me. “You’re grounded even longer,” he says in a stern voice.

  “What?” I shout.

  “You heard me.”

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You lied to me,” Ron says.

  I feel like punching him. I never understand why he always makes this stuff up. And he wonders why I don’t like him.

  “I can get a copy of my late slip Monday to prove it.”

  “Then get one to me by Monday or you’re grounded,” Mom says and shuts my door.

  My heart sinks. They are always angry with me and I don’t get why. Nothing I do is ever good enough for them. Sometimes I feel like my mom regrets having me or that I’m such a problem child. I want to run away. Somewhere that isn’t stressful.

  Pulling out my notebook, I return to a world where I can be free. Casper’s face circles my mind as if thinking of him is comforting. Why is he the first one I think about?

  I sigh and push him from my mind. I think about the two characters in my story. Living in a world where they are lovers and immortal beings. I imagine Vincent and me on a date, smiling and laughing. I picture his dark blue eyes peering into mine before he leans down and kisses me.

  But will he ask me out? Will he like me? If he ever meets my parents, he’ll run for the hills. I take a deep breath and continue writing. It’s the only thing that brings me solace.

  Chapter Seven

  Casper launches a punch into the man’s face. The man groans, then tackles Casper to the ground. They have to stop. I look around to find something to hit the man. The gunshot explodes and I freeze. I wait for Casper to move out from underneath the man but it’s the man who stirs. He grasps the gun and gets to his feet. It’s him.

  I run. Fast. The man screams for me, but I keep running, past several trees. I come to a halt after I see a hole in one of them as if lightning struck it. It’s small enough for me to hide in. I hold my breath, and my heart pounds inside my chest; it throbs in my ears. His footsteps approach.

  I should turn myself in. I shouldn’t have fallen in love with an Elf, but I did. And now I don’t know if he’s dead or alive. I bite my lip to keep from making a sound. The man’s shoes crunch over branches and my chest burns from holding my breath. I close my eyes and a tear falls down. I can’t let him see me.

  He walks past and I hear his footsteps become more and more faint. I’m not sure how much time passes before I exit the tree, but when I do I dart toward Casper’s body. “Casper,” I whisper as I crawl toward him. My vision blurs from the tears as I shake him, but he doesn’t move.

  When I open my eyes, I realize that I’m crying. I raise to a sitting position and reach behind me to turn off my alarm before it goes off. My black hair falls around my shoulders as I cover my face with my hands and cry. The dream stays with me and I feel as if I’ve lost my true love.

  Someone knocks on my door, and Mom comes in. “Good mor—what’s wrong, Meg?”

  I sniff. “Nothing. Just a bad dream.” I quickly wipe my tears.

  “What was it about?”

  I shake my head. “Nothing. It was stupid.”

  “All right. Well, have a good day. See you tonight.” She hugs me and I hold onto her a little longer. She pulls back and kisses my forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  I nod.

  “Okay. Don’t forget the copy of the late pass,” she says and leaves.

  Savannah burrows out from under the covers and sneezes. She yawns and stretches while looking at me sleepily. I hold all twelve pounds of her to my chest, hoping for some comfort.

  Once I see Casper, I’m sure I will calm down. It’s the strangest thing. I feel like the dream really happened which is why I have to see him.

  I get to school rather impatiently and meet Cherry at my locker. She’s talking, but I only half-listen because my eyes are peeled on the vast group of people walking down the hall. I chew the inside of my cheek. I fidget with the strap on my backpack. My eyes dart back and forth looking at every single face that passes by. None of them is Casper.

  “Okay, seriously, Megan, what is with you?” Cherry asks.

  “Nothing,” I mumble.

  “Well, could you pay attention to me for five seconds?”

  When I don’t respond, she lets out an exasperated sigh. “Who are you looking for?”

  I don’t see him at all. Something is wrong. My heart drops to the pit of my stomach, swirling around with all of the other uneasy feelings.

  “Hey,” she shouts and grabs my arm, making me look at her. “Calm down. Lay off the Red Bull. Yeesh. What’s the matter with you?”

  I can’t calm down. She doesn’t understand my urgency, but it doesn’t matter now. “I have to go check on him.”

  “Who?”

  I swallow. “Casper.”

  Her eyebrows push together with disbelief in her eyes. “What?”

  “He was shot, Cherry. I have to see if he’s okay.”

  “What?” Her eyes enlarge.

  “It was a dream,” I tell her. “You don’t understand.” I quickly add as she gives me a disapproving look.

  “Meg, it was a dream. It wasn’t real. Why does he concern you all of a sudden?”

  “I don’t know. I gotta go.”

  She grabs my arm again and the bell rings. “Are you crazy? You can’t go to his house.”

  “I need your phone.”

  “What?”

  “Give me your phone.”

  When she hands it to me, I google Casper’s dad’s name and am able to find their address. I’m familiar with the area since it’s around my work.

  “I have to. C
herry, please. Let me go.”

  “What’s gotten into you?” she shouts as the halls clears.

  She searches my eyes, but I can’t explain it to her. She won’t understand. I need to see if Casper is hurt. “I’ll call you later, I promise.”

  Cherry looks at me like I am seriously out of my mind, which I probably am. How am I even going to get inside Casper’s house? I drive like a lunatic on the way to his house, except, it then occurs to me that I have no idea where he lives.

  I arrive at, what I expected, a giant mansion with a driveway lined with tall bricks. Not my first choice in houses, but hey, to each their own. As soon as my car is in park, I yank the keys from the ignition and flee the car. I rush up to the door and pound on it, but no one answers. I’m sure there’s an alarm system somewhere. Hoping that the door is unlocked, I turn the knob and like something out of a movie, the knob turns, and the door opens. Hesitantly, I cross the threshold and call out Casper’s name. When I get no reply, I close the door and run upstairs, checking each of the several rooms. I get to one and find him sprawled out on the floor wearing only boxers, as if he’d fallen from the high sleigh bed.

  “Casper,” I yell. I shake him. “Casper!”

  He finally stirs awake.

  When he opens his eyes, he gazes at me with love and relief. “Megan.” My heart lurches forward. For one fleeting moment, the way he says my name, I want to curl myself into his arms, breathe him in, and feel safe.

  But his eyes widen with fear and I realize this isn’t a dream. “What the hell are you doing here?” Casper scrambles away from me.

  “I-I had to check on you.” I stand, backing myself against the wall away from him.

  “What?” He gets to his feet as I grip the chair rail on the wall behind me. He seems much taller than ever before and my eyes sweep across his flawless smooth chest.

  I imagine running my fingers down the center. I hope he can’t hear the erratic beating of my heart. It’s throbbing in my ears and my throat closes.

  “Check on me for what?” he demands.

  I clear my throat. “You didn’t show up for school today and I panicked.” Okay, now I’m sure he thinks I’m seriously crazy. I’m acting as if I have the biggest obsession over him. Great. “I had to come see if you were okay. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” My voice is barely above a whisper.

  He narrows his eyes. “What are you doing to me?” His voice reverberates in the room, making me jump slightly. “What is this game you’re playing?”

  That brings me up short. “Game? What are you talking about? I should ask the same about you,” I quip.

  “Get away from me, you freak. I don’t know what you’ve done to me. You’re one of those freaky voodoo people or whatever aren’t you? Putting spells on people.”

  My jaw literally drops and I’m not sure why there’s a pain in my stomach, as if his words hurt me. “I—”

  “You’re the one making me think of you all the time, aren’t you? Making me have these crazy dreams. Get out of my house or I’ll call the police.”

  Shock doesn’t even describe how I feel. Okay, maybe it does, but a more intensified version. Without a word, I leave the weird scene. I don’t know what I expected to happen, but not that. I wonder how long it will take the rumor mill to start that I’m some voodoo witch putting spells on people. Does he really believe that, though?

  If he really did write that letter, why did he have such a strong reaction to my coming over and waking him? Other than freaking him out, apparently. All I know is that I needed to see him. The dream felt so incredibly real. Too real.

  Once I get back in my car, I feel completely humiliated. What is wrong with me? Running to some guy’s house to see if he’s okay after having a dream. Who does that? He mentioned having crazy dreams. Are they as insane as mine?

  I really need to chill out and stop focusing on these stupid dreams.

  I decide to go back to school. The last thing I need is someone calling my mom telling her I skipped. I arrive meeting Vincent in the office.

  “Y’know, I’m starting to feel like you’re only using me for my late passes.” He smiles as his cheeks redden.

  His infectious, warm smile already makes me feel better that I can’t help but smile back. “I would never.”

  “Why are we late today?”

  “Oh. You know. Slept late.”

  His eyebrows furrow. “I saw you this morning before class. Or I thought I did.”

  “Oh. That’s my evil twin.”

  He cocks an eyebrow. “You’re a very strange girl.” He hands me the pink late slip.

  “I know. Thanks.”

  “So, you’re off your grounding, right?”

  “Oh, about that. Can I get a copy of my late pass from the other day? If I don’t show my parents, they’ll ground me again.”

  He looks at me like he’s upset or something and my cheeks warm. “Why are they like that?”

  I shrug. “My stepdad doesn’t like me.”

  He writes something on a pad, tears it off, and hands it to me. “Use that. If they call, we have the records here in the system.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why were you looking for a writing sample of Casper’s the other day?”

  “Oh, that. He’s playing a joke on me. Trust me, I’m available.” I stop. That sounded way too needy. “I just meant you don’t have to worry about him. I don’t like him.”

  “Why would he play a joke on you?”

  “Because he’s a jerk. He likes playing games. I don’t know. The list is endless.”

  “That’s weird.” He seems surprised and I wonder if he knows something about Casper that I don’t. “Want me to say something?”

  “No, it’s okay.”

  “I’m sorry he’s being a dick to you.”

  “Don’t be.”

  “Do you wanna go out Friday night?” he asks.

  I smile. “Yes.”

  “Okay. Great. I’ll call you.” He gives a meek smile that fills me with warmth.

  I make it to the tail end of my class and the bell rings signaling lunchtime. I find Cherry in the line and walk up beside her. She gags at the soggy green beans and sighs.

  “You know, you could always bring your lunch,” I tell her.

  “Oh, hello, my crazy psychotic friend. How are you?” Her lips upturn into a wide smile. “Is your boyfriend okay?”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “If you say so. Seemed like you were making an emergency booty call.”

  “Seriously?” I give her an annoyed look.

  Cherry shrugs and carries her tray to the cashier. I follow her to a table and sit across from her.

  “Aren’t you going to eat? I bet all that exercise—”

  “Enough,” I cut her off sternly.

  “Then tell me what the hell had you busting out of here like the place was on fire. And for Casper.”

  “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Hard to explain? You’re acting so weird ever since you started having dreams about Douchebag Casper.”

  “Shh! Keep your voice down.”

  “They’re dreams, Megan. They aren’t real. I mean, you dream about him getting shot and suddenly you have to go check on him? There’s something going on.”

  “Nothing is going on.” I buried my face in my hands.

  “Then help me understand, because honestly I feel like I’m losing you here. You’re my best friend, Megan. But lately, it’s like all you ever talk about is Casper. Very little about Vincent or anything else. I’d rather hear you bitch about your parents than hear about Casper.”

  “These dreams are so real, Cherry. Like, they feel like they’re a part of me. Or something. I don’t know what it is.”

  “Maybe you secretly want them to be real so you can be with Casper. I mean, I get why you’d want to hook up with him.”

  “Can you please stop?”<
br />
  “I didn’t mean that as a tease. I’m just saying, Dream Casper is all romantic and completely the opposite of the real Casper. I don’t want you to forget who he is and what he’s done to you and me and get involved with him so he can hurt you again. He’s only messing with you. You know that.”

  “I’m not getting involved with him. I wish I knew why I’m having them.”

  “Maybe see a shrink. I don’t know. Stop spending so much time dwelling over them. Seriously. It’s not healthy.”

  “I’m trying. It’s hard when they consume my mind.”

  She frowns. She’s right, but she doesn’t understand how it feels and I’m not sure I can explain it any better. “Then write about them. Get it out of your system. Maybe that’ll help.”

  I have been. I nod, needing to change the subject because I don’t want to spend our lunch hour talking about Casper. “Vincent asked me out.”

  “I knew it.” She squeals. “When are you going out?”

  “Friday.”

  “Omigod. I can’t wait.”

  “You realize it’s my date, right?”

  She waves her hand. “That doesn’t mean I can’t live vicariously through you.”

  “You need a life.”

  “Well, it seems as though you have two, so let me have one.” She bats her eyelashes.

  She isn’t going to let it go.

  “I’m kidding. Trying to lighten you up is all.”

  “Thanks.”

  The rest of the day, I worry that Casper’s told the entire school what I’ve done. But I hear nothing. I’m scared of Casper. Terrified of the fool I made of myself this morning and the rumors that are sure to follow. I want to avoid him at all costs. Maybe Cherry is right in that I shouldn’t focus on the dreams so much and think about Vincent instead. But that is harder than it seems. The dreams are so consuming. Why am I running for my life in them? I remember the dark figure walking toward me and I shudder. I can’t get it out of my head.

  I come home, pull out my books, and open them. My eyes sweep over Casper’s note and I read it again. I focus on the words until they blur. Why is he playing with me? We never talk. I don’t understand his need to feel superior. I sigh and bury my head in my hands. What possessed me to run to Casper’s house like some crazed moron? What are the kids at school gonna say about me now? Being called an easy lay is bad enough and now this? Maybe I could be sick tomorrow.