Chapter 3
Only in My Dreams
Images and scenes fast forward behind my eyes, all jumbled and skipping from one to another.
“Your turn.”
Golden amber eyes glow bright.
“I’m sorry, what now?”
“Your turn.”
“No, Ryder! I can’t!”
“Yes, you can.”
“Are you crazy? I’ll probably drive it off into a tree!”
“No, you won’t.”
“Yes, I will.”
“Elizabeth, get into the driver’s seat.”
“Nuh uh. Nope. No way. You can’t make me.”
Strong hands lift me up and a feeling of pure joy and excitement overtakes me.
“Will you stay with me? Or just hold me until I fall asleep?”
“My beautiful Elizabeth. I would do anything for you.”
“Would you rather be rich and feel somewhat content, or poor and be extremely happy?”
“That’s easy. I’d rather be poor and happy.”
“Me too. You make me happy, Ryder.”
I come out of the dream slowly, my trembling body drenched in a thick, sticky sweat. No, this wasn’t a dream. I wasn’t asleep. Was I?
After running out of school, I drove back to the house that Daniel and I moved into a week and half ago.
I don’t remember most of the drive here or coming inside the house, I realize as I lift myself up off the living room floor.
Thank goodness Daniel isn't here. This morning before I left for school, he mentioned that he had some business to take care of in Research Triangle Park and wouldn't be back until dinnertime.
Fully cognizant and aware of my surroundings, I race to the bathroom, managing to avoid stumbling over two boxes that still need to be unpacked. I make it to the toilet just in time for my stomach to heave and empty its contents, which isn’t much, but it’s still pretty gross.
I try to piece together the memories I just had. Most of the images are fuzzy and unclear, like my amnesia is staking claim to them all, refusing to let go. A single image flutters across my closed eyelids. I grab hold of it, not allowing my mind to steal it back from me.
Ryder. The guy from this morning at school.
The guy who said he knew me. The guy with the gorgeous black-brown hair, tanned skin, and intense copper-brown eyes.
I reacted strongly to him. My feelings were so powerful and overwhelming, they caused me to run away from him.
Those feelings were too much. He was too much.
Piling my hair on top of my head in a loose bun, I remove my sweaty clothes and slip on a pair of clean shorts and a T-shirt.
Ryder recognized me. He asked me where'd I'd been. He seemed upset. Does he mean something to me? Were we friends? Were we more than friends? The way I felt when I looked at him makes me think the answer is yes. Yes to all those questions.
Puffing my cheeks out, I blow out a breath.
Well, my first day of school is a bust so far.
If I leave now, I could still get in most of the day and will only have missed first period.
First days are just settling in and getting to know the teacher and fellow classmates, right?
It's not like I'll miss anything important. I hope.
It's going to be so freakin' weird being around a bunch of people who know me, even though I can't remember them. Maybe I can find the new guy, Trevor, and hang with him during lunch.
Speaking of lunch, Daniel wanted me to call him and check in, and if he acts according to form, he'll be blowing up my phone if I don't. Just as the thought crosses my mind, my phone rings and it’s Daniel. Knowing I would be in class at this time, why is calling me now?
“Hey, Daniel. What's up?”
“Why are you not at school?” his accusatory voice asks.
I play dumb. “I am.”
I hear some shuffling of papers and then the click of a door closing. “The GPS tracking on your phone says otherwise.”
I totally forgot he turned that feature on so he could locate me in emergencies. However, this is not an emergency.
Coming up with the best bald-face lie I can, I tell him, “I spilled a drink all over myself and came home to change. I was just heading back to school when you called. Would you like for me to take a selfie and send it to you to prove it?”
More shuffling sounds and a loud thunk like he ran into a table or a door. “No, that's unnecessary.”
“Um, Daniel. I hate to say this, but it's a bit creepy that you're GPS-stalking me on my phone.”
I hear his loud sigh. “It is, isn't it? I'm not cut out to be a guardian or a parent. I have no clue what to do or what to say. I'm sorry, honey. It didn't even occur to me. I don't know what made me check it. I just had this feeling that something was wrong. I won't do it again.”
“Does that mean I can disable location-sharing on my phone now?”
“How about we make a deal? During school, yes. But after school gets out or if you go out, like on the weekend or at night, then turn it on just in case. Is that a good compromise?”
“I can live with that," I agree. "And Daniel? I think you're doing a fine job. We're both navigating unknown waters.”
“This whole parenting stuff is new to me. If I get out of line or do something John wouldn't, please call me on it. I'm trying the best I can.”
He's got one parenting skill down to a tee: guilt trip. “Daniel, I don't remember what my dad used to do,” I sadly remind him.
He groans loudly in frustration. “I really suck at this!” he proclaims.
He kind of does, but then again, so do I.
I have to keep reminding myself that Daniel didn't have to step in as my guardian and take care of me after my parents died.
He could have let Child Protective Services take over, but he didn't. God, it's so depressing to think that I truly am alone in the world now with no family other than him.
Needing to change the subject before I start to cry and say “screw it” to returning to school, I ask him, “Want me to fix dinner tonight for when you get home?”
“That's alright. I'll pick us up a pizza on my way. I shouldn't be later than six or seven.”
“Okay. I need to get back to school now.”
“Please drive carefully.”
“Always do,” I reply. Especially now that I'm sporadically turning into an amnesia-zombie, I don’t add.
I hang up and immediately disable location-sharing. Then, needing to hear something funny to help wipe away my sadness, I speak into my phone: “Hey, Google. Make me laugh.”
Google: Okay, here you go. Saw a fella chatting up a Cheetah. I thought, well I never, he's trying to pull a fast one.
That was awful, but at least I'm smiling now. Time to head back to school and hope the day goes by fast. One thing is for certain, however, as I think of the guy named Ryder and the flashes of disjointed memories that I had of him earlier—the next time we meet, I’m not going to run.