Dream of Me: Book 1 The Dream Makers Series (35 page)

“Yea,” Jen added, “its 2 weeks until school starts. From now until then we are on scout detail.” Sally nodded her agreement.

The three were quiet for a few minutes, each pondering ways to run into the new exchange student without seeming too obvious. Jen was lying on the floor looking up at the ceiling fan, her eyes following the blades as her mind turned its own circles, “We need to find a way to introduce ourselves to him so that we can each get a good look and see if Sally or I hear a voice in our head.”

“My mom was planning on taking over a good’ole Southern meal for him since he isn’t from here. We could ask if we could go over with her, or would that be too lame?” Jacque asked.

“No, I think that’s perfect,” Jen stated.

Finally, by midnight they had thought up a somewhat weak game plan, the whole of it revolving around going with Jacque’s mom to the Henrys to give their new exchange student some fried chicken, ‘taters, and corn on the cob. Seriously, how lame could you get, Jacque thought as she lay in her bedroom floor. Jen and Sally had quickly fallen asleep on the other side of her room each with their own blanket wrapped around them.

Jacque sat up and looked around her room, and thought, this was a place I feel safe and comfortable. The twin size bed with the new deep green bed spread her mom had bought her for her birthday, the stained-glass lamp with absolutely no theme whatsoever that sat on her small wood desk. She, Sally and Jen had carved various things on its surface.  She looked at her dresser mirror which had pictures lining both sides, mostly of Jen, Sally and her in various places and poses; just a few hours ago I was just another 17 year-old getting ready to start my senior year, so normal she thought.

She had three homecoming mums hanging on the wall next to her bed, and on the other side of her bed was the window with a seat where she sat tonight, where her life had changed in a way she wasn’t sure of yet.  Jacque lay back down on her back watching her ceiling fan go around in a circle, the motor lulling her to sleep. Her last thought as she drifted off was of a full moon, whatever that meant.   

Carnelian

B. Kristin McMichael

In the shadows
cast by the torchlight, a young, dark-haired man knelt before an altar. There was already a stone statue sitting behind the lit candles. Methodically, he placed each statue he had found over the past week beside the one already there. He had called upon every god he could remember. His country was at war with the east and with the south. Endless fighting ruled the days and the nights. They were strong, but it wouldn’t be enough. There would be no end. The current king had overthrown the late king, and there was chaos from outside and from within his country. Without an heir, the current king would not last long either. Rulers were changing; beliefs were changing. Yet the change didn’t bring peace. They were still at war. His country was crumbling.

His personal guard stood at the entrance to the cave. They were too far outside of the city to be in a real temple, and this place was the closest he found. Even in the barren desert, the people still worshiped their gods. His best friends knelt beside him, each on a side. The man to his left passed him the stone they had been carrying for the past few weeks. This was their last chance. When they began their march again, it would be to war.

The young man knelt and waited. His life was devoted to his country. He would do anything possible to save the people, his family. The deep red stone amulet in his hands was crusted in blood. He kissed it and continued to pray. He bowed his head in respect to the old gods, the overthrown gods, and the current gods. He was pleading to anyone that could help him. Rubbing his fingers over the smooth stone, he closed his eyes and kept repeating the same line.

“Gods, help us before it’s too late.”

I had the
perfect idea of what going off to college would be like. I’d move into the dorms on the first day I could. My family would come along and my mom would cry over the thought of me growing up, especially since I was her only child. They would hang around, not wanting to leave, and finally I’d have to shoo them all out, reassuring them that I’d be okay. That’s how everyone pictures it going. Yet, here I sat, a day late, staring at my new home for the next four years, alone.

My mom and grandfather made the seven-hour trip north with me from Chicago to Minneapolis, but Grandfather got called away on business and my mom had to go with him. He was her ride home after all. Grandfather was in the antique business, and he had a lot of wealthy and powerful clients. I was used to them calling him away at a moment’s notice by now. I drove the last two hours to Lake Superior and Castor, the nice college town that Morton Carole was in. I chose to go to a school far from home, and now I regretted it as I sat outside the campus dorms, pondering my first steps toward being grown up.

Independence. That’s what college was to me. I’ve spent my entire life with my grandfather and mother, and yes, my mother was the hovering type. I never was allowed to go on trips with my friends, or even leave the city without her by my side. She worried every day about my walk to school. She hated cars and was afraid I’d get in an accident. Luckily, grandfather convinced her I would need a car here at college, so I did have wheels now. She never seemed to lack for something to worry about.

Sitting in my used Civic, looking at the massive dorms with people flowing everywhere, independence scared the crap out of me. Right now, the one thing every recent high school graduate wanted was staring me in the face, and I yearned to give it back. I was turning out to be the most timid college freshman in history. Thank you, Mom!

After taking a deep breath, I steadied my nerves and finally turned off my car to go to the registration table sitting outside. I gathered all the courage I found and opened the door. The large square brick building in front of me would be home for the next four years. It was intimidating yet exciting at the same time. College was the pinnacle of growing up, and I couldn’t wait any longer. It was time to start a new chapter in my life.

The registration table was set up with several college students sitting around waiting. The fifteen-foot walk to the table was excruciating. I felt like everyone that passed was staring at me, the scared freshman. In reality, probably no one even glanced my way. The official move-in day was the day before, and I missed the opportunity to be lost in the masses of new students. I was late on purpose. Figuring the crowds would be smaller, I planned to arrive today with my grandfather and mother to help. I tried to concentrate on the table, hoping to see a helpful face, but the girl there just glared at me as I approached. I crossed the parking lot and waited. The beautiful, long-legged brunette who already glared at me, now ignored me and sat talking to the girl next to her. They were obviously friends, as the brunette kept talking and the other girl kept nodding along, never getting a word in edgewise. I stood and waited. I thought the welcome table was to welcome new students, but this girl was anything but welcoming.

“I’m sure by the end of the week he will be coming back to me. He always does. You know he can’t find anyone better than me,” the brunette told her friend.

Poor guy
, I wanted to add. I had grown up with girls like the one in front of me. Everything about her was fake, from her eyelashes to her boobs. Private school at St. Maria’s had prepared me for two things at the same time: fake girls and dealing with the people you never really want to be associated with. This girl was exactly that.

I coughed to get their attention. I didn’t need to learn more about the poor guy that the girl had her sights set on. The brunette looked up, surprised that I was there.

“Marcella Navina,” I told the girl, pointing to my name on the list.

“Oh, a new freshman,” the brunette said as she held out her hand to the girl next to her. The second girl was digging through a box looking for the correct key. Finally, she found it and handed it to the brunette. “Welcome to Morton Carole. If you need any help, feel free to ask. We’re all happy to help new freshman.” From the tone in her voice I somehow doubted that. “You are in Murdley, which is on the opposite side of the dorms here.” She said Murdley with disgust, as if she couldn’t imagine who would want to be stuck in the studious dorm. She held out her hand and her minion placed a map in it. “You can either go through the courtyard, through the connecting hallways, or around the outside to get there. Room 215. Good luck, and welcome to college.” A smile was plastered across her face, but it didn’t reach her eyes. I gave her my best fake smile back as I took her keys and map. I didn’t really need the map. I had already memorized it weeks ago.

Still within hearing distance while walking away, I heard as the brunette added, “I hate freshman. They always think they’re better than the rest of us. Did you see how she talked down to us?” I had no choice but to talk downward because they were seated. She wasn’t the brightest, I guessed.

“I hate fake people,” I added under my breath as I found my way back to my car.

I opened the trunk and looked at my few belongings. I had packed only two suitcases and two boxes. Good thing the dorms came furnished. I stared at my sparse possessions and sighed. The fact that I was on my own for the first time was starting to sink in. I looked over my things, picked the lightest box first, and took a deep breath. Time to walk the gauntlet.

It’s strange how you can pack your life into just a few boxes. It took me a total of three whole trips to my car to bring my life into my new room. It also didn’t take long to unpack it. In less time than it took to drive to my college, I was moved in and officially home. As strange as it was, this ten-foot-by-ten-foot space with two beds, two dressers, and two closets was where I’d be spending most of my time for the next four years.

I sat on my bed and stared at the empty bed across the room. My roommate, Sim, would arrive later today. She had been gone all summer in India and would be arriving later than me. I was excited to meet her, but being alone didn’t bother me. My mother and grandfather often left for short weekend trips while I was growing up, always under the direct care of our maid. Adding to it, the dorm website said that Murdley was the quiet dorm, for those that wanted a bit of solitude in college. I didn’t mind this in the least. In fact, I didn’t get stuck in Murdley like most of the students. I chose this dorm. I didn’t want to live in the party dorm, Mordoch, which was on the opposite side of the square from Murdley. The dorms at Morton Carole were actually four buildings that were connected to form a square with an inner courtyard; Murdley was one wall of the square with Mordoch on the opposite side. I was completely happy to find my room didn’t even face the inner courtyard. I would get all the peace I wanted in my room, and maybe a little bit more.

Outside my window, which faced the campus’ winding paths that meandered between large, ancient trees, Morton Carole students were wandering around. Most probably arrived yesterday and were already making friends. I didn’t know a single person attending Morton; I was miles away from home and all my high school friends. It was a bit scary to start over, but it was for the best. I was really only going to miss a few of my friends, and they wouldn’t ditch me just because I went off to some small school in the middle of nowhere.

As I puttered around my room, trying to find something to do, a massive maple tree outside my window caught my attention. It looked like the perfect reading tree. I could sit outside and feel the breeze instead of being stuck in my stuffy new home. I wandered down to the tree with my book under my arm. A reading tree was exactly what I needed. I could find time to make new friends and fit in later, after I got through my latest novel.

I opened the book to where I left off. It was new and the pages crisp. Most of my books were a bit tattered from multiple readings, but not this one. It was the third in the latest series I was hooked on. I bought it new when it came out two days ago, and I was already almost finished with it.

I began reading just where I left off. Marie, the protagonist, was just finding out her best friend was a demon. It was sad. Marie’s family had descended from angels that were hunting demons. I felt bad for her. It was easy to slip back into the story and forget about the world around me. I continued to read and ignored the person who sat down next to me at my new reading tree. No one could pull me out of my little world. I needed to find out what Marie was going to do. Would she hunt her best friend? I could hear imaginary music playing as I got more absorbed into the story. If I could write music, I’d have a soundtrack to each book I read. The real world was completely gone as I read with the tune playing on in my head. I turned page after page and didn’t even know how long I had sat there. The last page came too quickly and the book was done. As with the rest of the books in the series, I would have to read it again.

I closed my book and looked up from under the maple canopy to the blue sky above. I had a normal life, but girls in books always went on adventures. I guess that was what going far off to college was to me, an adventure. My future was already planned, but I’d give anything to be one of those heroines. I wanted to live the life I found in these books. I was still lost in thought over the ending when there was a thump on my lap. College students were walking all around and a few tossing a football between them. I looked down expecting to see a football.

It wasn’t a football. The head of a perfectly cute guy was lying across my lap. He had tipped over from sleeping next to me and stayed fast asleep, even after his fall. I looked at him and waited for him to wake. I mean, his fall startled me out of my daydreaming. He didn’t wake. He kept sleeping peacefully.

He was gorgeous—underwear model material. His dark hair had a glint of red in it and was splayed across his forehead. He had high cheekbones and perfectly-shaped lips. Stubble ran across his cheeks, and it seemed like it had been days since he had shaved. I looked at his fluttering, sleeping eyes and wondered what color they were. Mystery man just kept sleeping, like he had often found himself on unknown girls’ laps, and it didn’t bother him. I needed to move soon, but I was stuck, and I couldn’t help but admire him. He had his shirt off. It was draped partially over his shoulder now, but mostly on the ground beneath him. My eyes wandered down him to find he was very fit. All of the muscles around his shoulders and arms were perfectly defined, along with his washboard abs. His athletic shorts were low on his hips, showing off more than I had been close to in a long while since I’d attended an all-girls high school. I turned my head away before my eyes drifted any further. I had to stop checking out this guy. I mean, yes he literally fell into my lap, but I was beginning to feel like a creeper. How could he still be sleeping?

He murmured a few words in his sleep. “Maat mitra.” I didn’t know what that meant, and I was sure they were another language. Beautiful boy spoke another language, at least in his dreams. A language I had never heard. He continued to talk softly enough that only I could hear him, but none of it was in English, or any language I knew, for that matter. He was foreign, beautiful, and laying across my lap half naked. If I were a bit bolder in my ways, I’d say I hit the lottery. This was going to go down as the oddest start to my school year, but an embarrassing one once he woke up and found me drooling over him.

I looked around at the other college kids wandering about. No one seemed to even notice underwear model guy sleeping on my lap. Or maybe no one cared. Didn’t this guy have a girlfriend following him around devotedly? Someone out there had to be pissed at me right now. I glanced back down at him. Yes, he was probably the cutest guy I had ever seen in person, but that didn’t make it any less weird. I needed to move now, before he woke up and it got even more awkward.

Gently my hand moved under his head. His hair was soft, softer than I expected, distracting me again. The dark auburn color was different. It was almost a chocolate brown, but the red gleaming through it made it otherwise. He was a guy, but the color was just actually pretty. The red was subtler than my own hair, which was a very noticeable bright red. I would have given anything to grow up with hair as dark as his.

Back on task, I lifted his head gently so I wouldn’t wake him. He was a bit heavier than I expected, but I kept going, needing to get away soon. The longer I stayed, the more likely he would wake, probably with my drool on him. Slowly, I slid my legs out from beneath him, and I moved his head to the ground with my hand still beneath it. With my other hand I grabbed my book and pushed myself up to a squatting position. I inched my hand out from beneath his head and quickly made a run for it back to my room. I dodged students as I ran around the corner of the building to the stairs. He was already sitting up, awake, and looking around.

I didn’t notice the two students in front of me until it was too late. I bounced off the larger of the two. He was gigantic—probably the largest college student I had seen yet. His shoulders alone had to be at least three feet wide. He smiled at me and quickly grabbed my arms to keep me from falling down. He didn’t move an inch. He was as solid as he was massive, and I was just a measly fly.