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Dream Things True † 1

  Music blares shaking the foundation of the walls. Weed smoke fills the air. On the living room couch in between two girls draped over his shoulders, Garrett, my “date” snorts a line of coke across the coffee table. He pulls up catching any fly away of powder on his nose and the crowd around him screams encouraging. The exemplary mayor’s son is now a high chaser going after his next floatie. The party rockers look like an enactment of wild animals on Animal Planet grinding against each other in the smoky air to a raunchy Quick C song. A girl sneers at another as she passes and a couple off to dirtier things run around me up the stairs.

  I finger the cross charm dangling against my palm from my beaded bracelet. I came out to have good time and get out of the dorm before Spring Break starts tomorrow and I have to return home for my parent's party, but all I've found is total disappointment and wallflower awkwardness. I sigh in frustration. To my peers I may be a prude in comparison to my socialite parents I just rather not take part in the social debauchery that is my classmates. 

  A girl’s scream catches me off guard, as she runs pass me down the hall out through the front door followed by a guy with a super soaker. Then it rolls up on me like a freight train. Something I’ve been trying to keep down all night. Everyone’s voices spike in and out of earshot like the tracking on a stereo, anxiety tightening in my chest. I cover my face with my hands trying to focus. Through my fingers everyone looks close, too close. I have to get out of here. I turn to escape when someone grabs my wrist and jerks me back to them. I look up in to the blown hazel eyes of Garrett. My bracelet cuts in to my skin under his grip threatening blood.

  “Where are you going?” he asks, demanding.

  The acrid smell of beer and weed on his breath make me squint and wrinkle my nose, mixed with what I can assume is the blow he snorted but seconds ago. I pull at my wrist to break from his hold, but with no luck. His drug addled mind has him in its grip confusing his body to think it’s stronger than it is. Moisture breaks out on my temples in panic. Dread jump starts my heart and in the rush of adrenaline pumping in to my limbs – to keep me from breaking his arm in the many ways I know how – I press hard in to the pressure point in his wrist, twisting his hand off of me.

  “To get some fresh air,” I growl in to his face, pushing a palm in to his chest that forces him back a couple of steps.

  Out of his grasp and my endorphins now sated, I rush out the front door and out to my car.

  As I drive, I role the windows down so I don’t trap the smell of weed sticking to my clothes and skin in my car. When I reach my dorm complex, I keep driving. I think about Garrett. I think about a guy I thought was so nice, but turned out to be an attention seeking, control -. Why on my first date did I have to waste it on him? Him, who my mom wants me with so badly. All night he tried coaxing me in to smoking weed with him, drinking to “loosen up”, and when I didn’t he blew me off to hang with those willing to give him the attention he was looking for. I drink, but don’t drink to get drunk. I knew when I decided to do this it was going to blow up in my face. When it comes to doing what my mother wants me to do it always does.

  The bright red neon sign of Station Square pulls in to view and I turn down in to the parking garage. Pulling in to a parking spot inside the actual square, I drag my keys from the ignition and get out of the car.

  His bright blue eyes smile down at me.

 

  The image of Caleb from my dream flash in my head. It’s been seven years. Seven years and I dream about him again and right before my date with Garrett. I don’t even want to think about him. The deserted sidewalks lining the square and the distant chatter of guests outside on restaurant terraces is a welcome change from the loud party, as I pass a still open H&M. I look down at my watch. 11:00. I forgot the stores close late here on a Saturday.