Chapter 20
twenty
Ash
I fiddle listlessly with my sandwich while Cat goes on another random spiel about some music critic who’d lambasted her favorite band—unjustly, according to her.
These lunches with Dylan’s friends have become a regular occurrence, and I’ve gotten used to the extra company.
Today, however, I just can’t seem to escape my own head.
It’s been a week since Greta’s accident, and she still hasn’t returned to school.
A vision of her lying in that hospital bed haunts me every night before sleep, bringing back painful memories of my dad at the end.
Thank God for sleeping pills—without them, I can only imagine what sorts of nightmares I’d conjure up.
Dylan shifts beside me, and I edge my chair closer so our shoulders brush. Thank God for him as well. No matter how dark my thoughts get, at least I have his shining light to cling to. Even if I’m not sure I’ll ever deserve it.
I catch the word Greta and tune back into the group’s conversation just in time to hear Cat say, “—heard the latest?”
She glances around as the others shrug or shake their heads, then leans forward conspiratorially.
“Apparently, Greta pulled through her initial injuries, but now she’s stuck in a coma.
The doctors aren’t sure when—or if—she’ll wake up.
” Cat grimaces. “Which, if you ask me, sounds worse than dying. At least, there’s some sort of closure in death. ”
“Poor Greta,” Alexis says sadly. “I feel so bad for her and her family. I can only imagine how difficult this must be for them.” She squares her shoulders. “Still, we need to remain positive. Plenty of people in comas eventually wake up and return to their normal lives, right?”
“Exactly,” Dylan agrees. “All we can do is keep hoping for the best.”
I don’t miss the way his concerned hazel eyes flick to me. Knowing he’s right doesn’t do anything to stymie the guilt ravaging my gut. Greta’s accident might not be my fault, but my poor treatment of her before then certainly is.
If she dies before I can apologize, I’ll never forgive myself.
“Even the comatose must dream,” Robbie adds in his usual monotone.
Time around me seems to slow, my breath catching as his words permeate me to my core. It isn’t possible…is it? And even if it is, I can’t risk it, won’t risk it. My power does nothing but hurt the people around me. Using it won’t help anyone.
Even the comatose must dream…
I glance over at Dylan and find his eyes wide and fixed on me, the same thought currently assaulting me clearly on his mind as well. We share a look fraught with hidden meaning before he glances away.
“Come on guys,” he says, taking a determined bite of his apple with a satisfying crunch. “Let’s talk about something more cheerful.”
Alexis perks up. “Oh, you mean like the upcoming river clean-up? We’re still looking for volunteers if any of you are interested.”
Cat rolls her eyes. “I’m not sure pollution counts as cheerful, Lex.”
“Maybe not…but reducing it certainly does.”
“Hard pass.” Cat takes a long sip from her water bottle. “Robbie and I have a date that night.”
“I’m late, I’m late, for a very important date,” Robbie agrees.
“But the clean-up only lasts from 6am until 6pm. You’ll be done in plenty of time.”
“Sorry, Lex.” Cat gives an unapologetic shrug. “Our date is an all-day sort of thing.”
Alexis narrows her eyes. “But I haven’t even told you when the clean-up is yet!”
Cat’s answering grin stretches from ear to ear. “I know. And as soon as you do, Robbie and I will be able to schedule our date.”
With an annoyed huff, Alexis turns to Dylan and me, her expression pleading. “You guys will at least come, right?”
Dylan hesitates, pausing with his sandwich raised halfway to his mouth. “Um, you know I’d love to. But I don’t know if I’ll have time. I’ll have to see what my mom’s schedule looks like.”
I grunt noncommittally, tuning out the rest of the conversation as I retreat again into my head. My thoughts are even more of a churning jumble than before when I leave to head to my next class. No matter how hard I try, however, I can’t shake Robbie’s earlier comment.
After school, I cut across the parking lot to the sidewalk with Dylan. He hasn’t said a word about Greta since lunch, but I remember that look we’d shared. There’s no way he’s forgotten Robbie’s comment either, even if he’s too polite to bring it up again himself.
I’m watching him continue the latest Final Fantasy on my PS5, Onyx curled up in my lap, when the pressure to say something finally becomes too much to ignore. “You want me to try to save her, don’t you?”
Dylan hesitates. He pauses the game and sets aside his controller. “Do you think you can?”
I open my mouth to deny it, then slowly shut it. “I have no idea. Even when I used my powers frequently as a kid, I never tried anything like this. Visiting someone’s dreams is one thing. How would I even go about waking someone up from a coma?”
“You woke me up,” Dylan notes. “From that dream we shared.”
“I guess. But I don’t know how. I just…did. It felt natural.”
Dylan shrugs, a faint grin tugging on his lips. “Well, maybe this will, too.”
I’m quiet for a moment while I consider. My every instinct screams at me that this is wrong—that any attempt at using my power is a terrible idea doomed to end in disaster.
“What if I hurt her?” A shudder grips me, and I wrap my arms protectively about my chest, my voice small. “What if by trying to help her, I only make things worse?”
“Worse than being in a coma?” Dylan counters, raising an eyebrow.
I don’t reply, and he reaches out, grasping my hand in both of his.
“I know you’re scared, Ash, but this isn’t some hypothetical.
Our friend’s in trouble, and you might be able to help in a way no one else can.
If you don’t at least try, you’ll spend the rest of your life wondering if you could have helped her. ”
Once again, I picture Greta’s battered body from the hospital. The morbid vision shifts to her hounding me my first day at school, so determined to make me feel welcome despite my resolve to remain apart. In the weeks that followed, she’d never given up, no matter how poorly I treated her.
Just like Dylan.
I bow my head. “Fine,” I whisper, clinging to Dylan’s hand for dear life. “No promises, but…I’ll try.”
We wait for the weekend to put our insane plan into motion.
Aunt Claudette agreed readily enough to let Dylan spend the night, even if the coy wink she’d given me made me want to shrivel up and die of embarrassment.
Dylan and I might not have told her about us yet, but she clearly has her suspicions.
Dylan’s mom had agreed as well, though she’d had to swap her shifts at the diner around and enlist Tommy’s aid to ensure someone would be home to watch Patrick. Tommy was less than thrilled at the arrangement, but so what?
I’m nervous having Dylan so close to me while I dreamwalk, even if he should be entirely safe as long as he stays awake. Still, I can’t deny that I’m relieved to have him right there by my side.
“You sure you’re good?” I ask Dylan again, shifting anxiously atop my bed.
Dylan glances at the stack of cookies, chips, and sodas piled high on my desk. “I think I’ll be fine. Are you planning on being gone all night?”
“I don’t know. Even if this works, I have no idea how long it’ll take me to find Greta’s dreams or to wake her up once I do.” My stomach flips. “Christ, why didn’t I practice more? I’m completely unprepared for this.”
I’d considered attempting to dreamwalk during the week but had been too reluctant to use my powers more than I absolutely had to. Each day that passed, the tightness in my gut grew as I hoped Greta would wake up and render this entire exercise unnecessary. She hadn’t, so here I am.
“You said you at least read through that folder I gave you, right?”
My eyes skip over my desk, lingering on the drawer where I’d shoved Dylan’s compiled research on dreamwalking weeks ago.
“Some. I…I skimmed it.” Not as thoroughly as you should have.
Groaning, I flop back on my bed and cover my eyes with my hand.
“I can’t believe I’m about to break my cardinal rule.
This is one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done. ”
“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Dylan says quietly.
Greta’s smiling face flashes before my mind’s eye, and I sigh. “Yes. I do. You were right, what you said before—Greta deserves we at least try.” I snort a humorless laugh, lowering my hand to stare at the ceiling. “Even if I’ll be operating pretty much entirely on instinct.”
“All you can do is your best.”
“Yeah, well, hopefully my best is enough.”
Dylan fixes me with a smile. “Either way, I’ll be right here the entire time.”
I nod mutely, gratitude filling me. His presence alone is enough to put me a hundred times more at ease. I inhale a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s do this.”
It doesn’t take long for me to get settled in bed, tugging up the covers. Dylan switches off the light and perches on the chair by the desk, watching me. If anything goes wrong, he’s supposed to shake me awake. Not that either of us have any clue what something going wrong might entail.
Doing my best to still my pounding heart, I shift onto my side and close my eyes, fighting to regulate my breathing. Minutes pass as I turn over, switching positions while trying to get comfortable. Finally, I open my eyes on a sigh.
“This isn’t working. I’m too wired to fall asleep, but anything I take to make me drowsy might interfere with my power.”
“You just need to relax,” Dylan says, a shadowed shape barely visible from across the room.
“Easy for you to say. All you have to do is sit and eat snacks all night.”
“Hey, it’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it.”
A restless silence descends. A span of heartbeats later, I hear the scrape of a chair and the sound of soft steps crossing the room. My bed creaks as Dylan settles onto it, tucking himself under the covers.