Insomnia (9 page)

She had her back to me as she meticulously folded and straightened a table full of jeans. I couldn’t help myself. She was so close. I took a step and she visibly stiffened. Still, she didn’t turn, just continued to work. For a moment I wondered if it was even her. Moving slowly around the table, I caught sight of the side of her face—definitely Mia—but still she wouldn’t look at me.

Half the lights in the store went out. I glanced out into the mall and saw it was the same there. It must’ve been a signal to remind customers it was time to leave. The sudden dimness made everything a little eerie. I needed to get this over with.

I took a deep breath. It really didn’t have to be so difficult. Why did she make everything so hard?

Without raising her eyes, or acknowledging my existence at all, Mia turned and moved to straighten the next table. I cursed under my breath. With the dim lighting and the empty store, this was no better than the parking lot—except here she didn’t have her pepper spray.

With a shake of my head, I grabbed a pair of jeans in my size from the nearest table and stepped forward. “Hey, Mia. Could you help me with this?”

She didn’t respond.

“Mia?” I reached out and touched her shoulder with the jeans.

She whipped up and away so violently that I jumped. Her whole body recoiled like I’d struck her. I watched, gaping, as she fell backward into a metal rack. The resounding clang from her head hitting the hard edge echoed in the empty store. Her body crumpled to the floor, and I thought she’d knocked herself out until I heard her moaning. She lifted her face toward the ceiling and mascara-tinted tears rolled down both cheeks.

Nausea churned in my gut. I didn’t know whether to help her or run away. So I did nothing. I simply stared at the disaster I’d created.

Over and over, she moaned the word “no.”

I looked at Mia, at what my actions had caused. She was broken and it was my fault.

“I’m—” My voice caught on the words. “I’m sorry. Let me help you,” I mumbled as I took a step toward her. She cried harder, wrapping both arms around her knees and burying her face in her jeans.

“Hey, what’s going on here?”

I turned to see an older man walking back from the front of the store. He had on a black-and-white-striped shirt and a nametag that read
Chad
.

“I—she—” Finally, I gave up and closed my mouth. There was no way to explain.

Chad stepped around to Mia, touching a blossoming spot of red on the back of her head. I shuddered. He turned on me immediately, grabbing a walkie-talkie from his belt.

“I’m calling security.”

Everything had gone so wrong. I was screwed. I glanced at Mia again and found her dark blue eyes resting on me. She flinched when she met my gaze and quickly turned away.

“I’m so sorry, Mia.”

Then I ran.

twelve

I focused on meeting the eyes of every shopper I passed on the way out. After what I’d done, I didn’t deserve the rest that Mia’s dreams provided. I was a freak, a monster. When I glanced at my reflection in the store window, I met the cold eyes I’d seen before in the mirror at school. Only this time it didn’t surprise me as much.

And when I blinked, he didn’t go away.

Once outside, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I threw up in the bushes in a dark corner of the building until I shook. I’d become something horrible. And worse, I didn’t know if I could stop myself. Already the darkness in my traitorous mind was searching for another way to see her. I’d given over control to that darker side, far too much control.

I had to take it back.

I drove to Finn’s house out of reflex. This was the end. I needed help and he was my only hope at this point. I needed a friend. I just hoped he could still be that friend after everything I’d done.

Addie answered the door. Her face fell the moment she saw me, and it felt like a hole being ripped through my gut. I was stupid to have come.

“What do you want?” She folded her arms over her chest, looking about as welcoming as a
Closed
sign.

Clearing my throat, I tried a smile, but it actually seemed to make her angrier.

“Finn—I need Finn,” I said, glancing over her shoulder. “Please?” I sounded pitiful but I didn’t care.

Finn walked into the room behind her. His sweatshirt was a vibrant blue. It had been a long time since I’d seen him in a shirt that didn’t make a literal statement. When he saw me, he pivoted on one foot and turned to leave.

“Please.” I pushed past Addie and into the living room. “I really need you to listen. I was wrong.” Everything I said was true, but only because it was my last hope. I’d lie through my teeth if I thought it would make him talk to me again. Even worse, I’d tell him the truth.

He stopped with his back to me, and I waited. After a full minute, he turned to face me, his expression cold. With a long sigh, he walked past me to the door, rubbed Addie on top of the head, and finally spoke.

“I’ll be back. Have to at least hear the idiot out.”

Addie nodded but still glared at me as I walked out behind him. At the last second, she grabbed my arm and squeezed, hard. “If you hurt him again, I swear, I’ll deck you myself,” she hissed, too low for Finn to hear. She was such a little thing but her eyes were dead serious.

“Don’t worry, Addie. I’ve been stupid—to both of you. I won’t do it again.”

“I know the way you’ve been.” She took a deep breath and released my arm. “This isn’t you, Parker. You’re not like this—this person.”

I hoped she was right. “I’m trying to fix things.”

She nodded and whispered “Good,” then placed her hand on my chest and pushed me gently out the door.

Finn sat in the driver’s seat of my car. The knots that were tying up every muscle in my body loosened a little. Maybe I hadn’t broken things beyond repair. Finn would listen. If he would only
believe
me, I wouldn’t have to figure this out alone.

And I was so tired of dealing with everything alone.

Climbing in, I tossed him the keys. “Where we going?” I asked.

“If I have to look at your ugly face, you’re going to at least buy me a shake while I do it.” His voice was tight as he turned the key and the car came to life.

“I owe you at least that much.”

“Yeah, you do.”

We drove to the Shake Stop in silence. It was a quiet night, no rain or wind and very few other cars on the road. Everything around me was the exact opposite of the turmoil inside my head.

Wave after wave of panic hit me at the thought of telling him I was a Watcher. I had to, though; I needed his help. I needed him to help me figure out what to do with the mess my life had become. Shame washed over me, and I tried to shake it off by focusing on every dream of Finn’s that I could remember. I’d need to provide specific details to have any chance of convincing him.

The biggest problem that stood in my way was that many people don’t remember their dreams. I knew Finn did—at least sometimes. He’d told me about some of his funnier ones—it was weird to hear his take on what he could remember. I’d seen them too, and since I wasn’t sleeping, I usually remembered a lot more than he did. I just hoped we both recalled some of the same details.

Finn picked a corner table away from everyone else. He sipped his chocolate-chip shake before staring at me pointedly. “So? Get on with it.”

“First, I’m really sorry for punching you and for the way I’ve been acting.” He looked away with a non-committal grunt and I went on. “Seriously, man. There’s no excuse. I was an idiot, plain and simple.”

“Idiot sounds about right.” He seemed to relax a little and nodded for me to continue.

I cleared my throat and popped the knuckles in my right hand before speaking. “Okay, this will sound insane, but it’s true, so hear me out.”

Finn nodded without a word.

“I’m not like everyone else—I mean—I don’t sleep the way you do.”

I paused for a response from Finn, but there was none. He waited for me to continue. This was hard. It was awkward. And I had no reason to think he would ever believe me. I squared my shoulders and pushed on anyway.

“When I go to sleep at night, I see other people’s dreams.”

Finn’s eyes clouded and the corner of his mouth jerked as though uncertain how to respond. “You told me this joke a few years ago … ”

“I know, and I know I said it was a joke, but it wasn’t. It sounds crazy but I’m serious. It’s been going on for four years, and I can prove it. I’ve seen more of your dreams than anyone else’s. Not counting the past few weeks, do you remember any of your dreams?”

Finn shook his head; his voice was a low growl when he spoke. “Un-freaking-believable. I came out here thinking you had something important to say, and instead you bring up some old punch line? You used to be cool, man, but now everything is just a big joke to you.”

“I’m serious, Finn. Please. I remember one from a month ago!” I practically yelled as he stood up from the table.

He stopped and sat back down with a sigh. “I don’t know why, but I’m going to give you about thirty more seconds. You better impress me—quick.”

“Okay, you had a dream that you were boxing with a shark—while you were surfing.”

Finn’s expression didn’t change but his shoulders straightened. “Go on.”

I pushed my fingertips hard into my forehead, searching for the details I never expected would be important. “Oh! Another one—it was a while ago, though—maybe six months? You were the king of the mer-people and I was your servant. And—and there was this mermaid. She was smokin’ hot. Her name was Cassie, or, um, Cassa—”

“Cassandra.” Finn’s reverent whisper interrupted me and his eyes got huge. His mouth opened and closed like a guppy before any sound came out. “How—h-how? Did I tell you?”

“No. I saw it.”

“I don’t remember telling you.” Finn spoke slowly but finally shook his head. “But I must have. That’s just not possible.”

He looked like he was thinking about standing up again, so I spoke quickly. “Fine, you ask me about one. One you’re sure you never mentioned to me. Just make sure it’s not from the last three or four weeks.”

“Fine.” He hesitated, taking another slurp of his shake. “I had a nightmare a few times last year. I thought about telling you but I never did. It started out on an island. Tell me what happened.”

“I know I saw that one.” I closed my eyes tight and tried hard to remember details. “The island was deserted. I don’t know how you got there, but there was this cruise ship that picked you up and it was haunted. A bunch of undead freaks turned you into one of them and made you entertain them.” I stopped there because I didn’t want to embarrass him. It’d been the creepiest rendition of “Copacabana” I’d ever seen.

Finn whistled, his eyes wider than seemed humanly possible. I wondered how wide they could get before there was danger of them falling out. “H-how did this happen?” he finally asked.

“I don’t know. It just started.”

“When?”

Relief washed over me, and I could breathe freely for the first time in what felt like ages. “Four years. I can’t tell you how glad I am you believe me—I wasn’t sure how many more of your dreams I could remember.”

Finn shook his head. “Not so fast. One more. It was my favorite dream from a few months ago. I remember I had it on a night when you slept over. I was a pirate.”

I nodded with a grin. As if I could forget that.

“What was my name?”

“Finn the Amazin’—you liked it because it kind of rhymed,” I said without batting an eye.

“You were in the dream too. Who were you?”

I closed my eyes before answering. “Patrice—the barmaid.”

Finn hooted and slapped one hand down on the table. “Dude, how do you
do
that?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know, but really—it’s not a good thing.”

“How can you say that? It’s awesome! So, tell the truth, do the cheerleaders ever dream about me?” Finn leaned back and nodded with confidence.

We both laughed and stared at each other for a minute. I think it was still sinking in with him. I’d never expected how good it would feel to tell someone. Never had I anticipated an outcome that didn’t include a straitjacket.

Finn
believed me
. He’d listened and now he would understand. I wasn’t alone. Laughter seemed to release the pressure like a hole in a balloon. If this situation could be fixed, Finn would help me do it. He always did.

The restaurant around us had emptied. There were only two other tables occupied now, one with a family and the other an older couple. Finn was quiet for a long time, and then he took a sip of his shake.

“What?” I was pretty sure I knew what was coming, but I wanted to make sure he got to get it all out.

“Well, it’s weird, but it still doesn’t explain why you turned into such a freak with Mia. You know she called Addie crying yesterday.” His face hardened. “She said you were waiting for her in the parking lot after work. If that’s true—you’re seriously messed up.”

I grimaced, knowing he hadn’t yet heard the worst of it. “It’s true.”

“What were you thinking? What’s your problem when it comes to her?”

“Mostly, I’m an idiot, but there is an explanation. The massive downside to being a Watcher is that I don’t get regular sleep. It’s like I’m awake all the time. I forgot what it was like to get real sleep, and honestly—it was starting to kill me—quickly.”

Finn’s eyes widened. “What do you mean you’re a ‘Watcher’? Are there others like you?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I just call myself that. At least I’ve never met or heard of any, but it makes sense to keep it quiet, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He was silent for a moment before continuing. “No real sleep, though? That really sucks. Sleep is, like … my favorite activity.”

“Yeah, sleep rocks.” I grabbed his shake and took a sip. “Sleep is what caused the problem with Mia.”

“How?”

“
For some reason, in
her
dreams—I can sleep. I actually fall asleep in the dreams. For the first time in four years, I’m not tired. You have no idea how incredible that feels. I need it. The problem is that I only see the dreams of the last person I make eye contact with before I go to bed. I had to see her last, every day—”

“And she had to see you.”

“Right. There lies my problem.” I sighed.

Finn nodded and stirred his shake. “I’m pretty sure sleep was one of the needs they listed in biology. Food, water, sleep. Something like that. I don’t remember if there were more.” He paused. “But you have to stop stalking her. There’s got to be another way.”

“I know. You should’ve seen her face when she saw me.” I swallowed and glanced away. “It was so, so bad. I’d never hurt her, but she’s terrified of me. It’s horrible.”

“Geez, man. This sucks.” He put his head down on the table for a minute, rolling it from side to side. I was shocked at how well he was taking my strange news, but that was Finn. He always surprised me.

Suddenly, something that had bugged me for a long time rose to the surface. I’d never been able to talk to anyone about this before. Now seemed as good a time as any.

“Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Does it bother you? Knowing that I’ve seen into your head so much for the past four years?”

Finn watched me for a minute before shaking his head. “Nope. Should it?”

“I guess not.” I shrugged. “I just always feel like I’m in-
truding.”

“I figure since I have no control over what I’m dreaming, it’s not like I can be embarrassed.” He took a long sip of his shake. “Besides, I find my dreams quite entertaining.”

I laughed. “As you should.”

He nodded, then rubbed the knuckles of one hand across the tabletop. “So are you sure Mia is the only one with those dreams? The ones you can sleep in?”

“Not necessarily, but I’ve seen a lot of dreams from a lot of different people … none of them are like hers.”

“Any idea what makes her different?”

“Not a clue.” I held my breath for a few seconds, then breathed it out slowly. “I really don’t get it. I wish I did.”

His head jerked up and he looked at me funny. “Four years? Don’t take this the wrong way, but how are you still alive?”

I dropped my gaze to the table and studied a crack in the vinyl surface. “I don’t know. I really didn’t expect to even live this long.”

Glancing up, I saw Finn’s face pale and he stared at me until I cleared my throat and looked away.

“But that’s crazy. The last year or so I thought maybe you looked kind of sick, but you rarely miss school or anything so I blew it off. I never believed you could be dying.” He seemed sad, and I had an overwhelming urge to talk about anything else.