Intrinsical - Lani Woodland [77]
I managed to free myself from his embrace and turned to look back at him, trying to appear normal, but feeling awkward. With me kissing him and then sleeping in his arms he was going to start getting the wrong idea.
Brent, now fully awake, rolled onto his back and put his hands behind his head. I heard the smile in his voice as he sang softly, “’As I was drifting off to sleep, a dream washed through my mind and carried me to our embrace, so warm and soft and kind, and then you promised me your heart and told me you would stay, but when the morning broke at last I found you’d gone away. It breaks my—”
“Shut up, Brent,” I growled, my good mood souring like rotten milk. I recognized the verse from ”Can’t Stop Dreaming of You” and cut him off before he got to the chorus. I let out a frustrated breath of air and glared at him. “If you keep singing and whistling that song, it won’t take long until I don’t like it anymore.”
“I’m surprised you even know it.”
“Kevin was really into older music, mainly jazz and folk, but this was his favorite song. I’m not sure why. But after hearing it so often, I started to like it, too.”
Brent nodded. “Still, the lyrics fit our situation perfectly—you waited until I was asleep and crept into my embrace—” I put my hand over his mouth to stop his words.
“I had a bad dream last night and . . .” I trailed off letting my mind explain the nightmare and my fear.
He was silent for a minute. “I’m sorry for teasing you. I— ”
“I know.”
“Interesting dream.”
“Yeah, but it’s just a dream, right?”
Brent sat up straight, looking at me strangely. “What do you mean by that?”
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
“I don’t believe you.”
I bit my lip, thinking about the dream and how it had frightened me. “I’ve had dreams like that before, ones that were scarily vivid. I think it scared me so much because it felt similar, like the dreams I had of me drowning. You know, before I drowned.”
I suddenly had Brent’s undivided attention and he leaned toward me. His brown eyes narrowed as he grabbed my hand. “You dreamed about drowning?” I nodded. “Was it similar to how you actually died?” I nodded again, not exactly sure where he was going with this. “Was your dress caught on the brick bag they use for the swim team?”
“I couldn’t tell; is that what happened?”
Brent thought for a moment. “Yeah, Steve had to rip it free to pull you out.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Tell me, Yara, the first time you had that dream, were you wearing your necklace?” I told him I was. “How about when you left your body?” I nodded again. “But not when you died?”
“No, it didn’t go with my dress. Does that matter?”
Brent scratched his chin as he thought. “It might. Tell me about this new dream again.” With as much detail as I could, I explained everything to him.
“But this dream is different, right? I mean I was with Cherie and I felt . . . alive.”
“I’m not sure.” Brent pursed his lips, still mulling over this new information. “Is that the only time you’ve had dreams like that?”
I took a calming breath before I answered. “No. The week before my brother Kevin died, I . . . I saw it in a dream.” I plucked a blade of grass and watched it hover in the air before me. “I didn’t tell him about it; I had no idea it would come true. If I had, maybe he wouldn’t have gone to that stupid party with his loser friend. Maybe he wouldn’t have let his friend drive.”
It was impossible to miss the loud sound of Brent sucking in a lung full of air. “Oh, man.”
I let the blade of grass that I had shredded to pieces fall to the ground. “I never told anyone. I was afraid they’d blame me.”
Footsteps padded on the stone walkway as a man in a groundskeeper uniform crossed to the fountain and began cleaning out the leaves that had fallen into the water.
Brent slid himself closer to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Why didn’t you pay attention to your drowning dreams then?