The Saving Angels Series: Books 1-3 (8 page)

I knew I was taking the chicken’s way out, but I wasn’t ready to face my mom. I had already decided that I was going to keep her in the dark as much as I could. I was sick of being the constant source of worry for her. It was time for her to have the freedom to focus her energy on things that mattered to her, instead of always having to worry about my problems.

It dawned on me as I headed upstairs that I didn’t even ask Sam about the guy that was supposedly her
dream guy
. I hope he wasn’t some freak that had preyed on some young girl who might have confided in her dreams, too. I felt a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. What if Sam’s theory was wrong? I felt a wave of grief approach at the thought that Mark was just a regular person. I didn’t want to admit it to Sam, but a small kernel of hope had awakened in my heart that Mark might somehow be the person I had been dreaming about for years.

With a million thoughts swirling through my head, I twisted the shower nozzle all the way to hot. The hot water helped to ease away the chills that always followed an attack. Once my shower was over, I blow dried my hair and put on warm comfy pajamas before I headed to my room.

I took a few moments to give Feline the attention he craved. After petting him for a few minutes, he settled down on the bed beside me. I reached over and flipped off the lights. The emotional upheaval of the day had left me exhausted and I fell into a quick slumber.

I knew I was dreaming. It was the same as always. I walked to the edge of the tide line where we always met. He was already there waiting in the shadows, but as I
approached; he stepped out of the shadows for the first time. My breath escaped me. How had I missed it? Of course I knew him. Hadn’t he visited me every night? Wasn’t it his hand that I had held thousands of times in my dreams? Even though I had been expecting it, I was unprepared for the emotions that assaulted me when our eyes met. All I could think was
,
IT’S HIM
.

I woke to my own sobbing. I stuffed a hand over my mouth so my mom wouldn’t hear. I didn’t know how much longer I could take this heartbreak. The dreams, that for so long were my only source of comfort had now become nightmares.

I sat up pulling my knees tightly against my chest, rocking back and forth. My swollen eyes were sensitive to the touch as I wiped away the warm tears.

Feline jumped up beside me on the bed. He could always tell when I needed comfort. His soft fur and the mild vibrations of his purring were soothing.

I glanced at the clock, 4:00 a.m. He had left me earlier than normal. I sat on my bed contemplating how well things had gone, especially since his face was no longer hidden by shadows. We still were unable to talk in the dream but it didn’t matter, somehow we could sense what the other was feeling. The reflection from the moon had danced on the waves, and I had felt his heartbeat against my back as he gently stroked the side of my face. Then suddenly, he was abruptly jerked away, leaving me feeling like my own limbs had been taken with him.

My throat was as dry as the desert from the sobs that had torn through me. I walked as quietly as I could to the bathroom for some water, deciding when I got there that a nice warm shower would be the best way to wash away the chilling side effects of the dream.

I stayed in the shower for a long time, letting the warm water gently massage my aching body. When the warm water started to run out, I twisted the nozzle to turn it off and stepped out of the shower. After drying off, I headed to my room to throw on a sweatshirt and jeans. I still had almost three hours until I needed to get ready for school. The sun was just barely beginning to rise over the horizon.

I walked over to my window so I could watch it rise. I pulled the cord that hung down from my ancient blinds. The blinds made a loud rustling noise as they rolled up. We had discussed replacing the blinds with some cute curtains, but we kept putting it off. I was sick of the ugly blinds, so maybe I would replace them this weekend.

I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. Someone was on our front lawn, but strangely enough, I felt no panic at all. For some reason I expected him to be there.

I stared at him for a few seconds trying to organize my thoughts and then I headed out the door and down the stairs. I had put off the talk yesterday, but I was ready for it now.

Opening the front door quietly, I stepped outside. I could feel him the moment I stepped over the threshold. The impact of looking at him was no different than it had been the day before. If anything, the pull seemed even stronger today.

“It’s you?” I said.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he answered.

“You knew yesterday in class?”

“Yes, I knew the moment you looked up at me. It was like being punched in the stomach.”

“Have you always been able to see my face?” I asked.

“For as long as I can remember,” He replied.

“I’ve never been able to see your face…. until last night.”

“I figured that out in class yesterday, when you looked so confused. I tried to tell you. I waited for you yesterday,” he gently chided me.

“I know. I just needed time. I was so confused yesterday. There I was hitting on my teacher’s intern in a class filled with other people,” I said, still feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Why have you been leaving me?” I asked abruptly. I had meant to ask the question later, but I felt the answer to this question was the most important.

Mark looked confused. “I don’t leave, you’re the one who leaves……” he paused, as understanding dawned on both of us. Neither one of us wanted to leave in the dreams. Something else was pulling us apart.

“What does this mean?” I asked.

“I don’t know. When did you move here?”

“A few weeks ago.
OH!” I shrilled, suddenly aware. Why hadn’t I seen it before? The dreams changed the first night in my new house, my first night in Santa Cruz.

“Why did my moving to California change our dreams?”

“I don’t know.”

He settled into the swing on the porch, placing his hands on his jean clad knees. I sat beside him as we silently pondered our dreams. It all seemed surreal to be sitting here next to him, when I had fantasized about this my whole life.

I sat with my hands folded in my lap, consciously aware that his hand was just inches away. I yearned to reach over and grab onto it, but I fought back the urge. Part of me was scared that his touch wouldn’t be the same as yesterday, while the other part was afraid it would feel just as magical, and I wouldn’t want to let go. Just when I knew I was fighting a losing battle, Mark took the matter out of my hands.

Mark reached over and took my hand firmly in his. Though I was expecting it, I still momentarily lost my breath. His touch made everything feel right. Our dreams no longer mattered. All I cared about was that we were together now. I had imagined this moment forever. Even though I thought I would never really meet him, somewhere in my heart of hearts, I had always hoped for it.

I knew it was crazy. People didn’t go around meeting guys they had dreams about. This was real life not some science fiction novel. Dream Guys like this, just didn’t exist. It went against everything I believed in, but looking down at our hands it was hard to deny the connection. Even with our hands lightly clasped together, I could feel the most pleasant warmth from his touch spread throughout my whole body.

He asked me what I was thinking. I tried to put it into words. I explained the confusion, and how all this just seemed unreal.

“I know. Yesterday when I first saw you, I felt the same way. I was so shocked. Here was a girl, I had only dreamed about, sitting just mere feet from me. At first I was going to ignore you, but that was before our hands met. That’s when I knew for sure that I wasn’t hallucinating. Your touch was so familiar, and at the same time so new. Here I was, acting like some junior high guy who had just met some hot model; instead of the professional I was supposed to be. I tried to ignore you through the rest of class, but by the end, I knew it was too late.”

He brought up an important point that I had almost forgotten.

“How did you wind up at my high school?”

“School has always been easy for me. I skipped most of elementary school and graduated at the top of my class when I was fifteen. I received my bachelor’s degree in two and half years. I had to work my tail off to convince the board of trustees to let me use St. Briggets for my thesis.”

Okay, so now I knew how we had both wound up at St. Briggets, but it didn’t make it any less bizarre. The fact that he was still an intern concerned me though.

“Have you always lived in Santa Cruz?”

“No, I lived in Arizona when I was younger.

“How long have you been here in Santa Cruz?”

“About five years. My dad and I moved here after my mom died.”

“Why Santa Cruz?”
I asked, sensing what his answer would be.

“I was drawn here.”

I wasn’t surprised. It made crazy sense that he would be drawn here also. I had been drawn here, Sam was here, and now he was too. What did this all mean? What was going on? I leaned forward and placed my head in my hands.

“What’s the matter?”

“I met a girl yesterday at school. She was in your class yesterday with me, her name is Sam. Do you remember her?”

He laughed. “I didn’t notice anyone yesterday, except you.”

“Why, what does she have to do with us?”

Us
.
The way he said that gave me goose bumps. I liked it that he thought of us as a pair.

“She and I have a lot of things in common, too many to be a coincidence.”

“What do you mean? What kinds of things?”

I suddenly felt uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to tell him about all my downfalls. Would it ruin his illusions of me if he knew about all my quirks? I had always been such a private person, and in the course of twenty-four hours, I had already spilled my guts out to one person.

He seemed to sense my inner turmoil. “You can trust me,” He said in a quiet voice.

“I know,” I said. “I just don’t want to change your opinion of me.”

“There’s nothing you could say that would ever change the way I feel about you.”

I took a deep breath and told him everything. I first filled him in on my childhood, and how my adoptive parents had figured out my sensitivity to emotions. I told him how I had always been a loner. How I found comfort with him in my dreams when my dad died. I told him how I had always hoped that he was really out there, and not just some person that would only visit me in my dreams. I told him about the pull this city had on me. Then I told him about Sam, and how she seemed to be the carbon copy of me. How we felt a connection to each other that was similar to ours, but not as strong. I let all the words pour out of me while he sat there quietly holding my hand.

I looked down at the uneven boards and watched as a fat bug struggled over the cracks between the boards. Every so often, half of its body would fall between the groves and it would flounder around trying to work its way back out.

“Sam even suspected that you were the guy from my dreams,” I continued on a little self-consciously.

“How did she know that?”

“Because, she has dreams just like ours.”

“What do you mean she has dreams like us?” Mark asked amazed.

I told him everything we had discussed the night before. About having the same kind of dream, and that Sam had already met her dream guy.

I could tell that he was having a hard time believing me, just like I had with Sam.

“It had never occurred to me that there were other people out there just like us,” he said, trying to grasp what he had just heard.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you something else bizarre.” He raised his eyebrows at my choice of words.

I laughed. He was right of course; all of this was turbo-bizarre.

I filled him in on the circumstances surrounding both of us being left when we were young.

A few minutes passed in silence.

I looked up at him to see what he was thinking. I was concerned when I saw the troubled look on his face. Had I finally sprung too much information on him? I myself had a hard time dealing with all of it. It was a lot for someone to digest.

“Well I wasn’t abandoned, but my mom’s been dead since I was three,” he finally said in an odd voice.

“Are you sensitive to emotions too?” I asked, probing further.

“No, but I’m strong.”

“You mean from lifting weights, strong?”

“No, I’ve never had to lift weights. I’m not Hulk strong, more like; I just have the feeling that I could protect myself in a fight with anyone, and come out the victor. Plus, I was the only one in karate class who could break the wooden board the first time I tried,” he said with a chuckle.

“Strong, hum, I like the sound of that,” I murmured.

“You do, do you?” He said with amusement as he stood up. He took his hand and touched the side of my face. His touch sent shock waves through me; it felt like every bone in my body had liquefied.