Dreamers (The Dreamers Series) (7 page)

“I’m attracted to her. That means something, right?”

“It does, I suppose.” She pauses. “But keep in mind that she’s had a thing for you since middle school. This isn’t a MAYBE for her. Be careful of her feelings, Sydney, she’s your best friend.”

“Why does everyone think she is hopelessly in love with me? She has never said that, or even tried anything with me—ever.”

“You’re so modest. You might just be the only person in the world that can’t see it. She loves you Syd, there is no doubt about that.”

I shake my head in disagreement, and lighten the severity of the moment. “Mia, it’s dinner, not marriage. Relax.”

“She just seems like the type to get attached easily, that’s all.” She quiets. “I hope it goes well for you, honey, I really do. I just don’t want poor Heather’s heart crushed.”

“I’m not going to let that happen, don’t worry. Now enough about that. How are things with you?”

She shrugs. “Good, same as always. It’s only been a couple of days since you’ve left. Not much has changed.”

“It feels like a lifetime ago.” I chew my inner lip.

“Something is wrong with you, Syd. What is it?” She looks concerned.

I can’t overload her with the biggest issue of them all—Dominick. As much as I hate it, I have to lie. “I haven’t got a ton of sleep since I moved in. It’s no big deal, I’m just tired.”

“Try to take a nice bath before bed, and chamomile tea, it’ll help. I think everyone has touchy sleep in a new place, its normal.”

I laugh as I know that there is nothing normal about my situation. I have a man haunting my dreams, and he’s trying to convince me to serve him up my best friend on a silver platter. This is about as far from normal as I can possibly imagine. Thinking about it does bring up an idea, however. Dominick is around Mia’s age, and from Lawrenceville. Maybe Mia will know something.

“Mia, did you ever know a guy in high school by the name Dominick Manning?” I ask casually.

“Yeah, of course I did. He wasn’t in my crowd though. He was kind of a freak. Why?”

“I was just wondering. I…uh—met him in class.”

“Well it’s not the same Dominick then. The Dominick I went to school with went missing a couple of years back. The police never took it too seriously. He had a troubled past and a history of mental problems as long as the Pacific. Like I told you, he was a freak. Everyone assumed he just took off and finally offed himself.”

The sadness of Mia’s words hit me—hard. I haven’t quite found a liking for the dude yet but still, how awful that nobody gave a rat’s ass about his whereabouts. Sad.

“Well actually, the reason I ask is because I saw a headstone at one of the cemeteries I shot over the weekend. It had his name on it. If he was never found, it must be a coincidence on the name.”

“It could have been his. His mother was Mrs. Manning, remember the lunch lady from Berkmar High School? She was dying and I think she needed closure, but it was all for show.”

“What do you mean, for show?”

“She buried a casket, but there was never a body.”

“That’s horrible,” I whisper sadly.

“Hang on, I’m confused. I thought you said this was someone met in class? Then you say you saw his headstone. Which is it?”

My sister has an impeccable talent for picking up lies, which isn’t helping me considering I am an awful liar even on a well thought out scheme. Be that as it may, I straighten my posture and do my best to continue without further alarming her.

“I DO know a Dominick Manning from school, that’s why I thought it was odd when I saw a grave with the same name. I did a little research and found out he lived in Lawrenceville. I was just interested in learning more about him, that’s all.”

Her face still remains unsure, but she swallows the explanation easily enough. “Yeah, you won’t find much information on it. As I said, the police never followed up too much because he was an adult and had a history of disappearing. The only reason I even knew what was going on is because his brother goes to school with me. He is studying radiology, and damn is he good looking.” She smiles.

Before I can further question her about this new man who is making her grin and blush, Alex and Aiden run towards us with sad faces and empty pockets.

“Mom, can we have more coins?” Aiden sulks.

Mia looks at her watch. “No, I think we need to go. Its five already, and you two have school tomorrow. We need to scoot home and take baths.”

They whine in unison and follow us back to the car for a fussy ride home. Alex is continuously poking Aiden, causing a furious wailing meltdown. Mia’s nerves were beginning to split as we walk back through the door.

“You two go to your rooms, right now! I’ve had enough! I will call you down when it’s time for baths.”

They give me a hug and race upstairs, knowing better than to challenge Mia when she bears that look on her face.

“You gonna stay for a while?” she asks. “Let’s have a glass of wine before you leave, those boys are driving me up the damned wall.”

“Okay, but just one, I’m driving. And I want to hear more about this McSteamy Radiologist in training.” I smirk as she blushes slightly.

We plop on the cream colored couch, sprawling out, each sipping on a glass of ice cold Pinot Grigio.

“His name is Cayden Manning. He’s twenty nine.”

“And…” I wait impatiently.

“Single, absolutely drop dead gorgeous, funny—but he’s not Daniel.” She frowns.

“Nobody will ever be Daniel, Mi. He wouldn’t want you to mourn like this. You have to resume your life. It’s not forgetting him, it’s just moving on—living.”

“I know, it just feels like I would be cheating or something. I don’t know if I’m ready yet.”

“You might not be ready for marriage, but it’s okay to go out and have dinner, or see a movie. It’s okay to smile. Just promise me you’ll at least consider it.”

“I’ll think about it.” She dries her eyes quickly, and jumps subject. “So where is Heather taking you on your date?”

“I don’t know exactly, she said we are going downtown.” I gasp. “Oh my god! I don’t have anything nice enough to wear to Buckhead.”

“Let’s see what we can find.” She pulls me to upstairs to her room, toward the closet, and begins flinging clothes from their hangers, covering the bed with an array of colors. “Let the fashion show begin,” she chirps happily.

After a hundred wardrobe changes I decide to pick and choose from several different outfits, creating an ensemble that looks like me from a mile away.

I choose a red and black plaid schoolgirl-style pleated skirt, a men’s style long-sleeved button down shirt, and a red tie. Mia insists I wear the knee socks, claiming if I am dressing like a school girl I have to do it all the way. The one thing I refuse to budge on is my shoes. She hands me a pair of black clunky Mary Jane’s.

“No.”

“Yes,” she demands.

I slip my black low top converse on my feet, over the knee high socks.

Mia looks at me for a moment, at first disapprovingly, then shakes her head with a smile. “It’s definitely—you. I still prefer the Mary Jane’s.”

“I refuse to walk around with painful feet all night, thank you. My Chuck Taylor’s look just fine,” I adamantly reply. “Now then, makeup and hair?”

We spend the better part of an hour in the bathroom working on my face and hair. She ends up creating something similar to a Priscilla Presley style. I actually like it. My makeup is light, aside from around my green eyes. She uses dark eyeliner, creating a smoky ring.

“Wow, you clean up very nice.” She stands back, admiring her work.

“Thank you, Mia. I do look pretty good.” I twist for several angles in the mirror.

A sneaky smile coats her full glossy lips. “No boom-boom on the first date.”

“Mia! Did you seriously just say boom-boom?”

“Just sayin’.” She laughs.

Throughout the glamour process I had completely forgotten that I was supposed to stop with one glass of wine. My one glass was about three glasses ago. My head is feeling slightly buzzed.

“Shit, Mia! I can’t drive home, I’m gonna miss my date. It’s seven o’ clock. There is no way I can sober up in time.”

“Taken care of. I texted Heather a half hour ago. She’s on her way to pick you up.”

Just then the doorbell chimes. Mia greets Heather downstairs while I re-gloss my lips.

I walk clumsily down the stairs, failing in my attempt to hide my wine consumption.

“Wow, look at you.” Heather gawks as she catches sight of me.

My face warms, eliminating any real necessity for the phony blush Mia put on my cheeks.

I don’t know whether I’m blushing more from the complement, or because Heather looks just as breathtaking as I do. She is wearing dark brown cords, with a red button down shirt. Her hair is a tousled black mess, my favorite way. The entire room circulates that delicious spearmint smell that I’ve only ever smelled on one other person—him. I shift my thoughts, pulling him out and soaking her in.

“You look amazing,” I comment through a short smile.

Mia closely watches us both, again using her internal detection meter, trying to read the chemistry. It must be good because she gives a nod of approval as she closes the door behind us. “You kids be good.”

I shoot her a suspicious wink. Heather responds in her typical gentlemanly nature. “Yes, ma’am.”

***

“You seriously rented the entire roof top patio? This view is amazing!” I squeal as she pulls my chair out for me.

“It’s our first date. I thought we should make it special.” She smiles warmly.

Muscato’s is the nicest Italian restaurant in the city, it’s absolutely stunning. Even the roof top is decorated with beautiful soft lighting and a fountain that fills our ears with the sound of slow trickling water. She has managed to completely blow me away.

“Wine?” The waiter offers a glass of the house specialty.

“She will have a bottle of Prosecco, it’s her favorite,” she replies. “Sparkling water with lime for me please, sir.”

“Very nice.” He walks away gracefully.

I notice how closely she pays attention to her surroundings, zoning into me as I seem to take center stage.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to ask you on a date?” she asks.

“No.” I blush.

“Let’s just say—forever.” She maintains eye contact through every word. She has intensity about her, something I’ve never noticed before. “You’re all mine now, that’s all that matters.”

My heart stops momentarily, as Mia’s words from earlier replay in my mind.

She seems the type to attach easily…You don’t even know if you’re gay…Be careful with her heart.

“Heather,” I begin slowly. “I like you.” I downplay the amazing thumping she brings to my heart.

“I like you too, obviously,” she chimes in.

“This is only our first date,” I speak softly. “I don’t know…”

She cuts me off. “Syd, this isn’t my first time riding the bi-curious, straight-girl bus. I don’t have any expectations of you. I’m just glad you’ve given me a chance to sweep you off your feet, which I fully intend to do. Now, just enjoy the queen treatment for tonight, and let me spoil you.”

“Queen treatment?” I smile as my body loosens and relaxes.

“Yes, queen treatment. Get used to it.” She winks.

“I just might do that.”

Whatever spell she’s cast upon me, I never want it to end. As confusing as everything has seemed lately, she could be right. I might already be hers, after all.

***

The wine from Mia’s and the entire bottle of Prosecco have my head spinning. Heather’s beautiful date ends with her practically carrying me to bed. I pass out somewhere in the middle of her stripping my shoes off, and covering me with my snuggly warm comforter. The last thing I remember is Heather pushing my bangs back, kissing my forehead.

“Goodnight, baby girl,” she whispers as I fall into a deep slumber.

***

He sits on the edge of the bed, furiously glaring at me with dark navy eyes. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I was on a date with Heather, if you must know. I’m tired and I drank too much. Let me sleep.”

To my surprise, his steaming temper doesn’t seem to dissipate, but heightens instead. His eyes change color like a mood stone. The dark blue alters his usual arrogant gaze into an evil glare that leaves me uncomfortable in his presence.

“You were supposed to be visiting your sister,” he roars, his words drenched in hatred and viciousness.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but this what YOU wanted. Why are you all bent out of shape about it?”

Frustration canopies his stunning face. For the first time he actually looks confused and begins grabbing his hair, ripping it angrily through his fingers. Of the times I’ve seen him this is something I have never experienced—vulnerability. He’s falling apart. I’m entirely baffled and have no idea what to do.

“Nick. You’re ripping your hair out. Stop it!”

I grab his hands, pinning them to his sides, as if I could actually stop him. I’m shocked to find that he stills and I really have managed to overpower him, or maybe not. Perhaps he simply doesn’t have the will to fight me. Perhaps he doesn’t even care. This is a pitiful sight, and I don’t even know why it’s piercing at my heart the way it is.

“Let me tell you why it bothers me. Because you said one thing and DID another. You lied to me. One minute you tell me there is no way you’re doing that to her, the next you’re hitting up fancy restaurants and she’s tucking you into bed. Which is it, Sydney? Are you doing it for me, or yourself?”

I remain silent, startled by his aggression. I didn’t go out with her to pick information about his death, I wouldn’t do that to Heather. I don’t really want to answer his question since he’s acting like a maniac and I don’t know how he will respond to the fact that I WANTED to be with her—to live my life like a normal person and have some fun for a change. I’m alive and enjoying it. I shouldn’t feel guilty for that, but somehow I do.

I’m startled as his voice hits like thunder to my eardrums. He isn’t finished with me yet.

“You’re gonna sit here and ignore me when I’m speaking to you, Sydney? Thanks for giving me yet another reminder of the fact that I’m entirely alone. I honestly believed you were different somehow. I was so wrong about you. You’re no different than any of the others. Everyone I’ve ever known looks through me like I don’t exist. Why couldn’t you just be different? I wanted it to be you. I needed it to be you.”

He jumps to his feet angrily, his hair whips across his face as his movements are quick and cold. He snatches my shoe from the floor, shattering it through the mirror with a single throw. He falls to the floor and begins rocking himself, pulling his knees to his chest and burying his face.

I don’t know what to do, he’s destroyed. The emotional spiral in which he has been trapped for so long seems to have finally come to a head. My heart burns as I watch him. I have to comfort him somehow.

“Nick, I didn’t mean to lie to you. She asked me on a date after you and I last spoke. I had no way of letting you know what was going on. I’m sorry if I made you feel invisible, that wasn’t my intention at all. After our conversation I honestly had the impression that you wanted Heather and I together, so I’m truly baffled by your anger. I do want to help you, and I will. Nothing has changed.”

Everything screams for me to cradle him, pull him from his sorrow, yet I know I can’t; he would only push me away again. His wall is still too strong—stronger than I could ever wish to penetrate. He hates me, no matter how deeply I want to pull him into me—I simply can’t reach him.

“I thought that’s what I wanted you to do. I’ve changed my mind. You showed me that there is another way.” He wipes his eyes.

The wind is sucked from my lungs as I realize he’s crying. This is a side of Dominick I never expected to see. Enmity certainly wasn’t that shocking—that’s Dominick, so angry, vengeful, arrogant—never sad. He refuses to make eye contact, discreetly absorbing the tears with his white t-shirt sleeve.

“Dominick, please look at me.”

Sad, red-rimmed eyes crawl slowly from the floor to my face, as vulnerability oozes from his pores. I want to hold him, pull every dreary ounce of despair from his aching heart.

“We’re going to get you home, even if it kills me too. I won’t leave you to deal with this all alone.”

The tense cloud begins to thin and our breathing becomes easier again as his body relaxes. As quickly as it came on, the sadness melts away. Whatever I said seemed to be exactly what he needed to hear.

“You’ll never leave me?” A faint smile plays on his lips. “I knew you’d learn to like me.”

“Ugh, you’re so full of yourself—and yes, I kinda like you, but just a little.” I wink. “You’re stuck with me now.”

Our meeting ends with hope in the air and Dominick smiling—and wow, what a beautiful smile that is.

***

“Sydney, what happened to the mirror?” Heather gasps.

The sun is shining through the window. It’s going to be a bright day, not the most pleasant thought after an evening of drinking.

“What time is it?”

“It’s seven. I just came in to kiss you goodbye before work. That’s when I saw all this.”

“I’m really sorry about that. I got up to puke in the middle of the night and stumbled over, knocking it off the wall. I’ll clean it up. I’m not going to school today; I don’t feel well.”

I hate lying to her. Unfortunately, it’s unavoidable for the time being. I soothe my own conscience by reminding myself that I will have plenty of time to make it up to her later, when she fully understands the situation.

“Why don’t you just rest? I’ll sweep this up real quick.”

I can’t let her clean his mess. That’s wrong on so many levels.

“No, I’m doing it. Lounging around all day will do nothing but make me feel worse. I need to work the hang over away.” I force a smile.

“Okay, I guess I’ll go then. There’s coffee and Tylenol on your night stand.” She leans in for a kiss on the cheek.

“Heather, you’re so amazing. I don’t deserve you.”

“Only amazing for you, honey. See ya’ later.” She closes the door on her way out, leaving me in silence again.

I close my eyes, thinking once again about Nick’s curious behavior. Seeing his human side makes me feel—something. If it’s what I
think
it is, I have a serious problem. I can’t let myself feel anything for him other than friendship for two reasons in particular. Obviously, he is not even a viable option, he’s—dead. Equally important, Heather.

What have I gotten myself into—a lesbian, ghost, love triangle? You’ve got to be freaking kidding me.

There is absolutely no reason I should find this situation humorous, yet somehow a bright smile pushes its way across my face, spreading into my eyes. What is it about them? Heather is an absolute sweetheart that would do anything in this world for me; she’s attentive, ruggedly sloppy, and undeniably attractive. Dominick is so different, her absolute opposite; wickedly passionate, sexy, confident. He watches me so closely, almost obsessively, I like it. Somehow I have fallen—hard, combining the two into a perfect picture of my dream lover.

Heather’s gone, but I can still get to Nick. The thought of he and I being apart for such long periods of time throughout the day is surprisingly difficult to swallow, sending shocks through my heart. Flashbacks of his tortured face tap my nerve endings, shooting a throb into the pit of my stomach. He glides through me, dragging himself like electrified stingers slowly over my sensitive skin. It’s the most exhilarating and pleasurable torture I’ve ever felt. This is a feeling I can’t put a finger on. All I know is I have to see him somehow in between sleep. I don’t want to wait, I can’t. I need him—now. My mind takes over, searching frantically for options.

Meditation!

I can reach him through meditation, it taps into the subconscious realm. Not only is it a way to reach him anytime, but also anywhere; and I am good at it—very good at it. This is perfect.

I quickly emerge from bed, pulling the curtains tightly closed. I light three candles and rest on the floor, tuning out everything around me, focusing on the silence. I imagine his face, his beautiful aqua eyes, his black damp hair, and that white t-shirt wrapped around his muscular biceps. I can smell him, I can taste him—he’s close.

“Nick.”

I hear a nearly indistinguishable voice. I focus harder, compacting my vision of him, his scent, his smile. I pull that need for him that burns under the surface of my skin, using it as an energy source to pull me into his world.

“Nick.”

He sees me, his expression captivated.

“Sydney? How?” He pauses for a moment, absorbing my thoughts. “Oh, I see—meditation. Very clever.”

“I wanted to see you, and I can’t sleep day and night, can I now? Kinda makes sense, yeah?”

I watch closely for his reaction, which seems to be intrigued. How he never considered meditation as an option is beyond me, although the host would clearly have to bear the ability. It can be difficult for some to achieve a full meditative state. Fortunately for him, I have been meditating for years during yoga, so I’m somewhat of a pro.

As I continue staring into his eyes I begin picking up on something, something unusual. I can hear him, but he isn’t speaking. It’s…

“Oh my god, I can hear your thoughts! This is freaking crazy, Nick! I can see myself through your eyes.”

“Stop that,” he orders.

“Oh Nick, I don’t think so, baby. This is what we call tit for tat.”

The first peek into the window of his mind begins simmering to the surface of my brain. We are communicating—awake! I’m simply astonished.

His displeased grimace alerts me to the fact that he loathes the fact that I can hear and see everything within his twisted mind.

“Sydney…please don’t.”

I ignore his plea, focusing on the images clearing before my eyes.

“Let’s see what’s going on in Dominick’s mind, hmm?”

As his memories fill my eyes I notice the first memory I see my face as I sleep. He’s watching me, touching my cheek, gently. He smiles lovingly as he soaks in my restful peace. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. His cockiness, his arrogance, they’re gone. He isn’t looking at me as a pawn in his little game. He’s looking at me—just me. I dizzily pull myself from his mind, suddenly feeling like a trespasser.

“You like me,” I gasp.

“And you like Heather.”

“Oh my god—that’s why you smashed my mirror up, isn’t it? You saw I had been out with Heather—you were jealous.”

“I—I don’t know.”

“Say it, Dominick. Be a man and tell the truth.”

“Fine. I was jealous.”

“Now the rest.”

“What rest?”

“I don’t want to get all weird on you or anything, but you were crying earlier. Is that why?”

“Kind of, but not exactly. Most people have a filter for their emotions. Mine seem to just appear full force. When I was alive I had—issues. I guess some things don’t change, dead or alive.”

“You were undergoing psychiatric care. Wasn’t it helpful at all?”

“Mrs. Peyton didn’t seem to have much luck treating me. She was more of a buddy, I guess. I know it’s crazy, but I even think she might have had a little crush on me.”

“I’m sure that’s just your ego talking. It’s against the code of ethics to have a relationship with a patient in therapy. Years of school and a solid paying career is not worth casual fling with a patient—not worth it to any
sane
person, but that’s just my opinion. What you were being treated for?”

“I’m bipolar, or so they say. I have a hard time controlling my mood swings. My lows can follow my highs within seconds. When I hit rock bottom, it’s really hard to get back up.”

“Well, that clears a few things up. Had I known, maybe I could have helped you a little better last night. I didn’t know what to do.”

“You did help me, Syd. Nobody has ever calmed me so quickly. I was so angry, I can’t describe it. I actually scared myself. I really thought I was going to hurt you. I couldn’t handle hurting you, of all people. Since I’ve been dead I’ve felt nothing, then you come along and stir everything up. Looking at you, craving you—needing you. It’s like pouring alcohol on an open wound, made worse by the fact that my wounds can’t heal, and never will. I can’t have you. I can’t touch you. I might be dead, but my emotions are still very much alive.”

“I didn’t mean to…”

“This was not your fault, Sydney, none of it. This one’s all me.”

“But—I kissed you before, told you I wanted you. I fueled it.”

A painful expression masks his beautiful face as he begins to continue. Seeing him so raw and vulnerable makes my heart bleed. I feel physically sick knowing that no matter how much he denies it, I am at least partially responsible.

“Just listen to me, you are not responsible. Use my memories, you’ll see.”

“No, Dominick, I’m not digging through your mind. If there is something you want me to know, then tell me. Speak what you want me to hear. I will never violate your personal thoughts again, it’s not right.”

He swallows hard, digging courage and strength from a place which he’s had it buried it for so long.

“You asked me before why I didn’t get the information I needed from Heather while I had access to her thoughts; now you know. I was distracted by this beautiful girl Heather had stored in so many of her memories. She had auburn curls that bounced along her back as she walked, green eyes that reminded me of priceless emeralds—the most addictive laugh I’ve ever heard. I couldn’t get to her memories because I was too busy falling in love with something I could never have—you.”

“Nick, I….”

“Let me finish.” He puts a finger to my lips, shushing me. “When you moved in I was terrified at first by the feelings I felt. I had to get it together quickly and make sure I stayed focused on what I needed to do, which was finding my way home. Pushing you and Heather together was nothing more than selfishness. I had to put those thoughts of you away. I thought seeing you as a couple would dull my ache for you, and also that you could use her to help me get home. Only it didn’t dull the feelings, it pissed me off. I don’t want to see you with her—ever. She isn’t right for you, she had something to do with my death, she’s dangerous and I don’t want her anywhere near you. I want you to move—today. We know how to communicate outside of the room now. You can still help me, but safely away from her.”