Page 20

Lily

M y eyes flicker open, and my first deep breath burns. Screaming so much has murdered my throat. I reach up to rub my neck and groan painfully. I roll to my side and slowly push up from the bed.

Goosebumps cover my skin, and as soon as my legs are free from the tangled sheets, I shiver from exposing myself to the ceiling fan. I manage to look over at the clock on my nightstand to see that it’s 2:14 a.m. The cool blue light illuminates the otherwise dark room.

Same time as always .

My hand trembles as I push back a lock of hair that’s stuck to my forehead and cheek from sweat. Gripping the back of my neck, I massage the tension in my upper traps.

My entire body feels spent and rigid from fear and the obscene amount of adrenaline it just dumped in response to that all-too-familiar dream again.

Only it was more detailed than the last time.

I close my eyes and swallow back the bile that threatens to rise due to the overwhelming dread that fills me. The dream is progressing. That’s the second one I’ve had in as many weeks, and both have had new information.

I still can’t make sense of any of it, but this time, I felt a cold rush of wetness. Water. I felt the same pressure on my chest and prickles on my face before cold wetness started at my feet and worked up my body until it completely consumed me .

While in the dream, I screamed until I couldn’t scream anymore, and then there was nothing . Not even intense, deep gray eyes to pull me out of my misery. I once again reach up and rub my sore throat, wondering if the painful sensation is a physical manifestation of my dream or if I was really screaming in my sleep.

I think I’m going crazy.

It’s Thursday morning, and I have classes all day. My stomach churns at the thought of going to school today. I feel terrible, and my nerves are shot. Tomorrow starts the long weekend, and I’m supposed to go to my Grandma’s. The thought of leaving early and skipping school eases the tension in my shoulders and the acute anxiety swirling in my gut.

There are no tests or quizzes that I know of, I’m caught up on all my assignments, and whatever I miss today I can make up when I get back. Hopefully, when I come back, I’ll be more rested, have a clearer idea of what’s happening to me, and I’ll have a plan to stop it.

Mentally, I weigh the pros and cons of skipping classes today and leaving early. I quickly realize the pros outweigh the cons, considering this is a matter of life and death.

I need to go, I need to talk to my grandmother, and I need to get this figured out. I stand up, my legs feeling shaky from the dream-induced panic that felt so real just minutes before. Slowly, I walk out of my bedroom and down the short hallway to my bathroom, opting to leave the light off and use the nightlight in here to take a shower.

I won’t be able to fall back to sleep after what I just dreamed. Hopefully, a hot shower will relax my tense muscles. If nothing else, it’ll get the sweat off me.

I take my time, letting the calming lavender scent of my body wash and the hot water take effect. It isn’t like I’m in a rush, anyway. I can’t leave for Grandma May’s house until morning, and it’s not even three in the morning.

The loofah passes over my sore muscles, and I groan. Leaning against the tile shower wall, I let the water cascade down my skin. The small room fills with steam, and I find that it helps to soothe my sore throat. My body even starts to relax a bit.

Soon, I stop thinking about the dream and start thinking about a guy who is as confusing as he is pretty. I think about how good he looked on the hockey rink two nights ago and about how much my heart pounded in my chest watching him play. He really is an incredibly talented player. I think I could watch him play for the rest of my life and never grow tired.

When the fight at the end of the game erupted, Stella and I were on the edge of our seats, fretting with worry. When we saw Rowan go down, we were on our feet, trying to keep sight of him, but it was almost impossible with the number of players on the ice. It was pure chaos and pretty scary, given how dangerous those skates can be.

Thankfully, Luka saw Rowan go down and quickly made his way over to him. My heart was in my throat the entire time as we watched Luka skate into the crowd of fighting hockey players. They looked like a bunch of MMA fighters in hockey gear.

I shiver when I think about all the possible ways one of them could have gotten hurt. We stayed long enough to make sure Luka, Rowan, and Nash came out of the fight unscathed. Then we decided to leave because the crowd grew a little unruly, too.

By that point, the excitement of the game had worn off, and I was perfectly fine with leaving. I was left dazed and confused by Luka’s reaction to seeing me, but that got way worse after the fight.

It was all too much. It is all too much. My feelings are a jumbled mess, and my brain is screaming at me to find answers, but my heart seems to only focus on one thing.

Him .

Ugh. Why does my life have to be so complicated? I’ve only ever wanted one thing in my life, and it has nothing to do with an arrogant, cocky, self-centered, confusing, and flustering hunk of a hockey player.

That’s not true, though, is it, Lily ?

The question flashes through my mind, startling me. I drop my loofah onto the tub floor.

You knew his eyes long before you knew him .

My eyes widen as the voice flutters through my mind. Okay, now I know I ’ m going crazy . I’m hearing freaking voices in my head! I shut off the water and climb out of the shower before wrapping a towel around my body and another around my wet hair. I turn the bathroom light on and wipe the condensation from the mirror.

When I look into the mirror, I notice dark circles under my eyes. The intensity and the progressions of my dream are taking a toll. I can see it on my face, and I can feel it in my heart.

I’m getting closer to my death, and I’m terrified I won’t be able to do anything to stop it.

But I refuse to go down without a fight. I make a mental checklist of everything I need to do before I can leave for my grandmother’s, including emailing my teachers. I need to pack now since I’d initially planned to do that tonight. I also need to put gas into the car, which my parents insisted I take with me to college for emergencies and to come home when I need to. I only use it when I really need to because I despise the fact that it came from my mother.

I’ve tried very hard to make sure she has nothing she can hold over my head. It’s important to me that I earn everything that I have. I don’t want to rely on her for anything, but accepting the car and using it to come home on the rare occasion that I do has helped keep her appeased.

Sometimes, keeping the peace is easier.

However, I can admit it comes in handy for situations like this. Otherwise, I’d have to catch a ride home or hire a driver for the three-hour drive to my grandmother’s. From there, it’s another hour’s drive to my parents’.

Dread fills me as I remember that I need to cancel the tutoring session with Luka for tonight because of the break. My stomach swirls at the thought of bailing on him, but it also pitches because of how awkward everything has been. I haven’t seen him since the hockey game, and I don’t know what to make of his attitude and heavy looks that night.

He’s one of those massive five-thousand-piece puzzles that has every color of the rainbow in them in every aspect of the picture, so they’re nearly impossible to solve. You could spend a lifetime trying to put it together and never fully complete it. Honestly, I’m not sure if I’m up for the challenge.

Hopefully, the break is exactly what I need to clear my head. I need clarity about my dream, and being around Luka Russo is the exact opposite of clarity. It’s confusing and chaotic at best.

I spend the early morning hours getting my things together and sending emails to all my professors, feigning an illness and promising to make my work up as soon as I feel better. I feel bad for lying, but not enough to change my plan.

A little after eight in the morning, I leave with a full tank of gas and the large coffee I picked up from the coffee shop where I work to keep me awake for the drive.

Before I get on the main highway, I send a quick message to Luka, hoping he’s still asleep so I won’t have to deal with prying questions—or worse, a brush-off.

Me: Hey, something came up, and I need to leave town early. I won’t be able to make it to our study session.

There. Short and sweet .

I put my phone in the car console and turn up the music, drowning out my own thoughts as I settle in for the long car ride.

I pray the entire way there that my grandmother has the answers I need and a way to avoid my impending death.