KATE
In the back of my mind, I am aware that I'm dreaming. But as Luke drives down the road and Michael drunkenly rambles in the passenger's seat next to him, it feels as real as if I'd joined Luke on his impromptu rescue mission. I am silent, paralyzed in my own sleep as I watch in horror as Michael reaches over and jerks the wheel from Luke's hands, and all there is after that is a bright light and a shattering noise, my scream lost in the night.
I jerk awake with a gasp, and already my neck aches like hell. I sit up, completely disoriented. I am sitting at the small bar counter in my kitchen, and the sun is shining too brightly through the window.
I jump to my senses the minute that I remember why I was sitting in my kitchen in the first place last night. I lunge across the counter and grab my phone, disappointment and worry flickering in my chest when I see no new messages or missed calls.
What the hell? Luke said he would call... It's only ten in the morning, but he should have called last night.
I dial his number and wait with bated breath as it rings and rings, going straight to voicemail. Panic seems to constrict my heart as I immediately hit the redial button and get the same results. My phone drops to the counter and I cradle my head in my hands, trying to remember to breathe.
They're fine. They're probably fine. But the still vivid image of my dream combined with the fact that I've never seen Michael that drunk before sets my nerves on edge.
I call Luke twice more and send him a text, but after ten minutes of no response, I've bitten down all my nails and done at least fifty laps of pacing around the kitchen. Although I'd previously promised myself that I wouldn't, I break down and dial Michael's number. With my heart in my throat, I wait and wait as the line rings and rings, but his voicemail picks up and the sound of his voice alone is enough to send another wave of panic through my chest.
Quickly grabbing my keys off the counter, I am out the door before I have a chance to second-guess myself. The cold air blasts me the second I open the door to the parking lot, and I shiver. My thin hoodie is the only protection I have from the cold. I hadn't even bothered to put on pants, the drawstring shorts that I wear bare far too much skin for this weather.
My body is shaking violently as I start my car, the cold seeming to work its way into my blood. I bounce up and down in the driver's seat for a minute, waiting for the frost to clear off the windshield. As soon as I deem the car drivable, it takes all my self-control to not speed all the way to Luke's apartment. It's not far but tiny flurries of snow have started to drift through the air and I'm worried that there might be ice on the roads; I haven't been outside in a few days and I'm unsure of the weather conditions.
When I make it to Luke's apartment, the snowflakes have turned to sleet. It's not coming down too hard, but it adds to the chill. I pull my hood up as I dash across the parking lot, keeping my head down until I reach the door.
"Sorry," I mumble as I nearly collide with the person exiting the building. I step back and let a few people pass, wondering who in their right mind would let a freezing girl in shorts hold the door for them in the rain.
By the time I make it inside and reach the elevator, my thin clothes are nearly frozen to my body. I shiver in place as my finger jams the button for Luke's floor, not able to create enough warmth for myself.
My heart is in my throat as I knock on the door, my fist pounding gradually louder as seconds tick by without a response. Unbidden, terrified tears rise to my eyes as I rest my forehead against the door. Where are they?
"Luke?" I call through the crack in the door. I am met with silence and I almost give up before I hear something inside. Eagerly, I press my ear to the door, holding my breath. Within minutes, the latch on the door is clicking and the wood is being pulled out of the way, my entire body relaxing. Luke is standing in the doorway, confused, disheveled, and smelling strongly of alcohol.
