Insomnia (7 page)

Finn slammed back against the locker, eyes wide. A gasp sounded in the hallway. The shock in Finn’s expression jolted my system. His cheek had already turned an angry shade of red, and a few drops of blood dripped from a gash where his temple hit the locker. I felt my mouth drop open, and then closed it as my anger mingled with a sudden wash of regret. The two emotions clashed, leaving me in an argument with myself in my own mind. I didn’t mean to hit him, but it wasn’t like he didn’t deserve it.

Finn shook his head and stood up straight. “What the hell, man? Talk to me when you decide to stop acting like such an asshole.”

His back was so stiff as he walked away that he didn’t even look like himself. For some reason that made me sadder than anything else. I glanced around to see everyone frozen, staring at me.

“What?” I demanded.

Almost in unison, the crowd found something more in-teresting to look at, whispering to each other as they made their way toward their classes.

Then I was alone—and I felt alone.

I leaned against my locker, waiting for my pulse and breathing to regulate. What was wrong with me? This wasn’t like me. Finn didn’t deserve that. What was I thinking? I’d been doing things I’d never have done before Mia. I was out of control. All week, I couldn’t seem to think of anything but seeing her again. I couldn’t focus in my classes. I’d memorized her schedule, but needed to keep the crumpled paper in my pocket to feel secure. Nothing mattered if I couldn’t find a way to see her.

Was this what addiction felt like?

I’d gone so long without deep sleep that I’d forgotten how incredible it could be, and now that I’d tasted it again, I was addicted to it. My situation was so much worse than I’d thought.

I stepped forward and caught a movement in the mirror of the trophy case. When I glanced up, I saw two figures instead of one: me, and some guy standing just behind me.

I whipped around, but there was no one. I was still alone in the hallway.

My heart pounded, loud in my ears. Pivoting in a slow circle, I turned back to the mirror, but it was just me now. My reflection was pale, panting. For the first time I could remember, I looked as scared as I felt. I was beginning to hate that mirror.

Drawing in a deep breath, I walked toward my next class, trying to shrug off the icy feeling in my gut and rubbing my palm across the small lump in my pocket that held Mia’s class schedule.

No matter what, I had to sleep.

ten

I’d found ways to make eye contact with Mia over the weekend, but at school the next day I kept missing her. When the final bell rang, I was trying not to think about the withdrawal that would hit me like a semi if I couldn’t find her.

Hauling back, I kicked the soccer ball as hard as I could. It flew a good ten feet over the goal and bounced up the grassy hill beyond. Jeff’s soccer practices had fallen to the bottom of my agenda, especially after what had happened with Finn. Practice sounded like a pain I didn’t have the energy to deal with right now.

Still, kicking the ball had always been the best way for me to work out my stress. So here I was, missing shots on the barely upright, unguarded goal at the empty park a few blocks from my house—pathetic. Was there a stronger word than frustrated? Because I was way beyond that at the moment.

I sat for a minute on the cold, dead grass as the sky above me began to darken. Whose dreams would I watch tonight? Clearly not Finn, and oh please, God, not my mom. I’d had a little too much of her cocktail of real estate and worry in the past months. But a random stranger was too much risk. I’d proven that many times.

Pulling a handful of yellowing grass, I chucked it into the air, but it only floated for a moment before returning to the ground. Nowhere near the violent effect I’d been going for. Look at me—even my explosions of anger were pathetic.

I heard a soft thud and looked up just in time to duck a soccer ball hurtling toward my face—
my
soccer ball.

“Oh, oops.” At the sound of Mia’s voice, my heart poun-ded so loud in my head that it crowded out all thought.

“Oops,” I repeated.

“I thought you were supposed to be good.” She dropped her own ball from under her arm and dribbled it back and forth toward me. Watching her feet snapped me out of my fog. My muscles flexed instinctively in response and I got to my feet.

“I am good.” I walked closer, mimicking her movements.

With a swift, unexpected move, she swept her left leg wide and kicked the ball just out of my reach and into the goal behind me. She stared me in the eye and frowned. “Maybe if you ever went to your practice … ”

I pivoted and ran to get both balls. Tossing hers back, I stood behind mine. Direct eye contact from her sent my blood pumping. I needed a moment to catch my breath.

“Has Jeff been complaining?” I closed my eyes and relaxed into my body, feeling my muscles ache to take over. When she answered I opened my eyes to watch her.

“Not to me, but I overheard him talking to Mahoney today. He wasn’t exactly quiet.” She kicked her ball off to the side with the toe of one shoe and motioned for me to bring mine closer.

“I see.” I picked up my ball and tucked it under my right arm as I walked over.

“So, what is it exactly? Too good to practice with your team, so you do it on your own?” Her brow furrowed, but a smile curved the corner of her mouth.

“Yeah. I try not to mingle with the little people.” I dropped the ball to the ground in front of me but didn’t touch it—not yet. I needed this moment to last.

“Makes sense.” Mia nodded, then her eyes turned cold. “I heard you punched Finn, though. Your best friend? Not so cool … even for a celebrity like you.”

I felt the muscles in my jaw clench and sparks of anger flared inside me. Instead of answering, I moved my attention to the ball, trying to work through the emotions before I said anything I’d regret.

My muscles moved without thought, without orders. Seamlessly working together to move the ball forward—left to right, right to left, front and pull back, then forward again. Mia’s eyes watched and her mouth closed as she stopped talking and tried to keep up with my footwork.

Back and forth we moved in sync, and then I saw it—the brief flash of triumph in her eyes. She saw an opportunity, but so did I. I feinted to the left and she took the bait. When she lunged for where she thought I was going, I flipped the ball around her to the right and into the goal.

Mia studied me as I came back with the ball. Her arms folded across her chest, her brow was lowered in confusion. “You
are
good.”

“Thanks. So are you.”

“I know.” Mia rubbed her hands up and down on her arms. The sun had set and even I was getting cold. “I just don’t get you, Parker. One minute you seem cool, normal even. The next you’re acting all crazy.”

My defenses kicked in and I felt angry … again. Crazy? I was really starting to hate that word. “What do you want from me? An explanation? Because I don’t have one.”

“No.” Her expression tightened and she jogged over to pick up her ball. “I want you to get over it. Accept the fact that I’m not interested. Leave me out of your mess.”

“I wish.” My laugh came out so cold and hard she flinched and I wanted to take it back for an instant. Instead, I lowered my voice and finished, “You
are
my mess.”

“Whatever.” She took a few steps backward, her eyes guarded before she sighed and turned away. Her fists were clenched by her sides as she walked out of the park. I resisted the urge to catch up with her and apologize. But what did I have to apologize for?

The heavy clouds churning above Rush Beach made the sky dark long before sunset. Groups of students crowded around the bonfire, trying to keep warm. The air smelled rancid, like dirty fish in boiling water.

After four full nights of amazing sleep, I felt great. I leaned back on my hands and stretched my legs, damp from the wetness of the sand. Water was seeping through my jeans, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t want to move closer to the fire yet; I had a better view of everyone from here. I hadn’t planned to come—most of the team had been looking forward to this bonfire since the assembly last week, but I wouldn’t even have shown up if I’d seen Mia earlier in the day. This was my last chance.

And it paid off. Mia was standing back near the tree line, talking and laughing with Addie. I didn’t realize how close they’d become, so quickly. Probably because Addie had stopped speaking to me a week ago when she found out I’d decked Finn.

Addie caught my eye with a cold stare before turning her back on me.

I picked up some sand and threw it as hard as I could. The wind cut it in two different streams before it fell back to the ground. Apologies weren’t my strong suit, but I knew I needed to talk to Finn, tell him I was sorry. I just didn’t know how to explain the way I’d been acting. And telling him the truth wasn’t an option.

At least I still got occasional angry glares from Addie. Finn hadn’t even looked at me this week. He was now standing next to the bonfire talking to Anna Connors and Jasmine Blackwell. Jasmine and Addie used to hang out all the time in junior high. She had more nightmares about drowning than I considered healthy, and I was kind of an expert. It was weird to see her on the beach. I wondered if anyone else noticed the nervous glances she kept throwing out at the water.

The white letters on Finn’s dark shirt glowed in the firelight:
Cancel my subscription. I’m tired of your issues.

I couldn’t help but laugh, even though I suspected it was aimed at me. Lying back on the sand, I felt small amounts of it trickle down the neck of my shirt. The clouds above were moving so fast it was almost hypnotic. Every once in a while a star would peek through for a moment before its light was swarmed and choked out by the roiling mass.

A few guys stood around a huge cooler of punch that was on a table to one side of the fire. I saw Matt and Leroy from the soccer team lift the lid and pour something in the top. I shook my head. No more punch for me. I had enough problems keeping my body and brain in check without any … additives.

Matt caught my eye and walked over. Swinging myself upright, I checked my watch out of habit. It was getting late, but it didn’t matter. I knew whose dreams I wanted to watch and I was going to make it happen. He sat down between me and the fire. We’d been friendly at practice and games last season, but I wasn’t here for conversation and he was blocking my view.

I picked up a jagged rock about the size of my fist and squeezed it for a moment. The rough edge dug into my palm a little and I loosened my grip. Pulling it across the sand, I dug a crevice in the ground between us. We were divided. I was separated from everyone else. Couldn’t he see that and just leave me alone?

“So, what’s up with you, man?” Grabbing a handful of sand, he let it fall through his fingers, ruining my line. When half of it blew back into his face, I forced myself not to laugh.

“Meaning?”

“You haven’t been showing up to practice and Jeff seems pissed.” He turned to face me.

“And?”

“Look, I just wanted to warn you. He says if you don’t get it together before the season starts, he’s going to talk to Coach Mahoney about replacing you.” He looked out at the water and fidgeted. “I just think you shouldn’t be a co-captain if you don’t even bother to show up.”

I watched him for a moment before leaning back to get a better view of Mia. “You want my spot, Matt? Is that it?”

His face turned bright red and I could see I’d hit my mark. “Screw you, Parker. I was just trying to help.” He stood up and walked back to the fire.

It wasn’t that I didn’t care about soccer. With the way my grades were falling, it had always been my best shot at getting into college even though I’d never really believed I’d live that long. Now, with Mia, there was a chance I could survive even longer than I’d hoped—and that possibility was so much more important than Matt wanting to take my place as a starter that it was almost ridiculous to waste time thinking about it.

My gaze pulled back to Mia, again and again. She was like a magnet. I was planning to stop her when she left, but the fear that she’d get away without making eye contact suffocated me. I couldn’t approach her with Addie standing there though. Her anger was bad enough from a distance. I couldn’t stand to feel it close-up, especially since I deserved it.

I pulled my shoulders up tight and then released them, trying to relax the tense knots in my neck as I pushed the guilt aside. I needed to focus on Mia.

She wore a big jacket she’d probably borrowed from Jeff. I liked the way her small hands barely poked out from the long sleeves. If I hadn’t been so drawn to her dreams—and if I ever decided to break my own rule about girls—I might’ve been interested for other reasons. As it stood, one addiction at a time was plenty.

I didn’t realize I’d been staring at her for several minutes until I caught Jeff’s eye as he released one of the cheerleaders. He walked toward Mia, moving to block my view. Taking her hand, he tried to pull her toward the bonfire. She froze up and didn’t move a step. I could see her legs trembling and she shook her head violently. Addie laid a hand on Jeff’s arm and smiled, said something in his ear, and turned him back toward the fire. Jeff laughed, shrugged, and walked back alone.

My arm started to hurt, and I realized I’d kept digging the trench without realizing. It was now almost a foot deep. I dropped the rock and the muscles in my hand ached. The stone gleamed red in the light from the bonfire. As I leaned back on my palms, pain shot through my hand and I brought it closer. There was a shallow cut and a few reddish-black drops of blood from gripping the jagged edge of the rock too tight. I’d sliced up my palm and hadn’t even noticed. The redness on the rock was my own blood.

Rubbing my hands on my dark jeans, I tried in vain to get the sand and blood off. Why did this Mia thing have me so messed up? It was hard to believe it hadn’t even been two weeks since I’d first watched her dreams. Sometimes I didn’t even feel like the same person as before. If I’d been smarter, I could’ve handled the whole thing differently, better, but it had caught me off guard.

I glanced back just in time to see Mia waving at Addie and moving toward the parking lot. Jumping to my feet, I ran to cut her off. I only needed a minute, one glance, and then I’d let her go.

I skidded to a stop in front of her, my feet tingly and raw as I realized I’d left my shoes back on the beach. Mia jumped away and gave a little squeak before glaring at me.

“What on earth is wrong with you?”

“Sorry, I … ” My mind went blank.

“Seriously, if it weren’t for Addie telling me you were just acting weird lately, I’d wonder if someone should have you committed.” She laughed a little, but there was a hard edge behind her voice I hadn’t heard before.

I’d have to thank Addie for defending me—assuming she would ever speak to me again, and even though a very strong argument could be made these days for a padded room and a white jacket. I put my hands on my knees and feigned panting, trying to buy time to figure out what to say.

“Look, I’m flattered, really.” Mia’s voice was a little softer when she spoke again. “I mean, you’re really cute, but let’s be honest. You keep showing up everywhere I go, and the way you act—you’re starting to freak me out.”

I stood up straight. “What?”

“Come on, Parker. Do you really think I don’t notice you staring at me? The way you came by my house to talk to Jeff last weekend? Am I supposed to believe you didn’t know he was at a meeting with Coach Mahoney? A meeting, Jeff told me, that you were supposed to be at? Seriously.” She shuffled her feet and looked away. “And just now, I thought you were going to bore a hole through my head back on the beach.”

“I’m sorry. I just really like your … your eyes?” I’d meant it to come out as a statement, not a question. I wanted to kick myself.

She stared at me, unblinking. “My eyes?”

“Yeah, you have pretty eyes.”

Mia flushed and looked over my shoulder. “Oh, thank you.”

My mind grasped for something, anything to say in the stillness. “So, uh, I heard you paint.”

The moment it slipped out, I recognized my mistake. Her dreams were the only reason I knew about her painting. I really hoped it connected to reality somehow.