15. Dylan
fifteen
Dylan
“Okay class, today we’re going to review the four major types of chemical bonds.”
Mr. Simon’s dry-erase marker squeaks as he writes the notes onto the whiteboard.
I focus raptly on him, pencil poised over my notebook to copy down anything new that might be on the test. I’ve got to keep my grades up if I want to get accepted into a good pre-vet program.
Besides, Mr. Simon lets us eat here during lunch. I don’t want to disappoint him.
Ash leans in from where he’s seated at the table beside me. “Pay attention to this next part,” he murmurs. “It’s important.” Then, he winks.
I furrow my brow, but before I can ask him what he means, Mr. Simon resumes speaking. “So, can anyone tell me which type of chemical bond is the strongest?”
My hand shoots up.
Mr. Simon smiles, gesturing at me. “Go ahead, Dylan.”
I stand and dutifully recite, “Ionic bonds.”
“Very good.” He circles ‘ionic bond’ on the board. “Ionic bonds are formed when one atom shares electrons with another, creating ions with opposite charges that are indelibly drawn together. Can anyone give me an example? Yes, Greta.”
Greta stands from her seat in the front row. I frown, studying the back of her head. She’s not supposed to be in my AP Chem class…is she?
Beside me, I hear Ash say softly, “Wait for it…”
Greta clears her throat. Then to my surprise, she looks back at me with a small smirk. “Ash and Dylan are the perfect example of an ionic bond, Mr. Simon.”
“Oh?” Mr. Simon replies with a twinkle in his eye. “And why is that?”
“Because.” Her grin widens as she regards me. “Opposites always attract.”
My mouth hangs open as I stare from her to Mr. Simon. What the hell is going on?
Chair legs scrape against the tiled floors as the rest of the class rises in unison, Ash included. He nudges me with his shoulder. “Here it comes.”
Then, to my utter horror, the entire class breaks into song. And not in the giggly, uncoordinated way people do when they’re drunk or singing along to a favorite tune. No, we’re talking a full-on coordinated routine as if it had been plucked straight out of some corny sitcom.
I barely register the words as I stand there, stupefied. Something about how you can’t fight the bonds of love. I’m too distracted by the synchronized dancing as students hop onto and off of tables, twirling around me in what I’m pretty sure is supposed to be symbolic of electrons circling an atom.
A hand slides into mine, and I glance over to see Ash grinning at me. Just roll with it, he mouths before breaking into his own verse. “I thought I was alone but now I see, the ion I’ve been searching for is right beside me.”
He gives me an expectant look, and I realize all eyes are now fixed on me. My mind goes blank as the silence stretches, and for a horrified moment, I think I’m about to ruin the entire number.
Then, the words come to me as if from the ether. I grip Ash’s other hand so that both our arms are linked together. “I knew our bond was strong and true from the very first minute I ever saw you.”
Cheers ring out around us as the musical number continues, Ash and I spinning in a circle while the rest of the class rotates around us.
I catch glimpses of Cat and Robbie and Alexis from the corner of my eye, dancing and singing along even though they shouldn’t be here any more than Greta. The entire thing is like a wild dream.
A dream…
Sudden certainty floods me. That’s what this must be: a dream! But then…why am I aware of it without waking up?
Vaguely, I recall some online articles I’d read for a class project about the concept of lucid dreaming, where you can learn to recognize when you’re in a dream and sometimes even influence what happens. Could that be what’s happening to me?
Perhaps. For now, I decide to just sit back and enjoy the ride.
The musical number ends with a final duet between Ash and me, complemented by an impressive belt courtesy of Mr. Simon and a chorus of background vocals led by Greta.
Ash and I dance out the door to a wave of cheers.
“Come on,” he says, tugging me by our still-linked hands down the hall. “There’s something I want to show you.”
I follow him through the sea of students clogging the corridor to the familiar cafeteria doors. Hold on—isn’t AP Chem supposed to be after lunch? I have time to think before Ash shoves the doors open and leads me inside. The sight that greets me steals my breath.
The usual lunchroom is gone, transformed into a romantic dinner. A single intimate table for two sits in the middle of the cavernous space, lit only by a pair of candles that create an inviting circle of light within the darkness shrouding the rest of the room.
“Ash, this is incredible,” I say as we step into the light. I reluctantly let go of his hand so we can slide into our carved wooden seats. Wonder fills me as I examine the perfectly seared steak resting on my plate beside a bed of fluffy mashed potatoes. “You did all this just for me?”
Ash grabs a carafe of water left on the table and fills my glass. “No. I did this for us.” His emerald eyes hold my gaze for a taut moment before he glances down, gesturing at my plate. “Now, dig in before it gets cold. And as the Ellingtons used to say, bon appétit.”
The meal proves as delicious as it looks. We make small talk while we eat, the sort of casual banter we used to have every lunch period.
This is all just a dream.
The thought saddens me. Dream or not, however, I’m determined to see where it goes next. As if prompted by my decision, Ash slowly rises, stepping over to stand beside me. I look up at him, something in the serious cast of his face causing sudden nerves to flutter in my stomach.
“What is it?” I ask.
My eyes widen, my breath catching when he reaches down to rest his hand on my cheek. “Just doing something I should have done a long time ago.”
He bends over and an instant later his soft, warm lips are pressed against mine. A quiet moan escapes me as I close my eyes and give myself over to the kiss. It’s everything I’ve wanted for weeks—if I’m honest, since the very first time I saw him walking up Banton High’s steps.
The pressure of Ash’s lips vanishes, and I open my eyes, smiling. “That was—”
I cut off when I realize I’m alone at the table. I glance around the room but see no sign of him. Nor, I realize, of the doors we’d used to enter. There’s just me, the table, and the deep darkness.
Suddenly, the tiny halo of light doesn’t seem quite so romantic.
“Ash?” I call, a slight tremble in my voice. “Are you there?”
No response.
All around me, the shadows shiver and shift, almost as if something is moving within them unseen. I’m not sure if it’s my imagination, but the circle of light seems to slowly contract, the darkness closing in.
“This isn’t funny, Ash!” Fear compresses my chest as I stumble to my feet. Squinting, I scan for an exit, trying to remember which way we’d approached the table from. “Don’t leave me here all alone!”
The words tickle my memory. Ash had said the same thing to me last night. Or…perhaps it’s still this night. If this really is a lucid dream, I should have some amount of control to alter things or even force myself to wake up.
A shiver racks my spine as some formless shape skitters just out of sight in the shadows, revealing nothing except a hint of far too many spindly limbs. I’m certain now that it’s not my imagination—the shadows are deepening, constricting around me like a tightening noose.
It’s only a dream.
Though it goes against my every instinct, I squeeze my eyes shut, attempting to concentrate. I swear I can feel the shadows lapping eagerly against my feet, but I don’t give in to the distraction. Instead, I focus on seizing control. This is my dream, and I won’t let it overwhelm me.
A light breeze ruffles my hair, and I open my eyes, holding my breath. The creeping shadows are gone, along with the table and its romantic trappings. In their absence, the cafeteria is just a cafeteria once more.
I did it!
Even so, I waste no time hurrying to the exit. I emerge back into the hall and find it free of any students. Perhaps they’re all still in class?
“Ash?” I call again. “Greta? Cat?”
The only reply is my own voice echoing back to me.
As I walk down the empty corridor, it doesn’t take me long to realize that something is amiss. There are no turns, nor branches. The single hall continues straight ahead as far as I can see, unbroken save for unmarked doors set at regular intervals along each side.
I slow to a halt, my unease growing. What had happened to the spontaneous dance numbers and romantic candlelit dinners?
Maybe I made a mistake leaving the lunchroom instead of waiting for Ash to return. I turn around only to discover the same monotonous hallway stretching infinitely in that direction as well. Any sign of the cafeteria and the doors I’d exited through has vanished.
“Screw this,” I mutter, squeezing my eyes shut again. “Come on Dylan, wake up! You’re in control here, remember?”
But this time when I open my eyes, I discover that nothing has changed. If I’d really dispelled the shadows in the cafeteria, that must’ve exhausted whatever limited power I had here. Either that, or I suck at lucid dreaming.
My gaze settles on one of the unmarked doors lining the hall. This hallway’s not getting me anywhere. Maybe I’ll have better luck with whatever’s behind Door #2.
Nerves prickle my skin as I grip the doorknob and open the door. Beyond it, I see…
I blink, hardly able to comprehend the scene that greets me.
It’s my living room, or at least the furniture from it, somehow superimposed over the usual classroom.
It must be Christmas because I see a tree replete with lights and ornaments, along with a half-opened pile of presents.
Everything appears strangely faded, like a photo left too long in the sun.