Love, Dad | ✔️

6 | DARE TO DREAM

Sunlight, reddening, harsh and unforgiving, spears through the gap in the curtains, landing right on my eyelids. I squeeze them shut for a blissful moment longer, willing myself back to sleep, burying my head deeper into the scratchy fabric.

This is one distinct time in my life, the strangest moment of all, when I don't know who I am.

Then, reality slams into me like a freight train. I'm far from home, haunted and tired with travel, in a cheap hotel room I'd never seen, hearing the hiss of steam outside, and the creak of the old wood of the motel, and footsteps upstairs, and all the sad sounds. I look at the cracked high ceiling and really don't know who I am for about ten strange seconds.

I am not scared, I am just... Somebody else. Some stranger.

And this, this is not my bedroom.

The diner. The escape. David Rivera.

My eyes snap open, and a wave of panic floods my system. I scramble out of bed, the tangled sheets clinging to my legs.

The tiny room appears empty. My heart hammers against my ribs.

Where's Dave?

Relief washes over me so strong it leaves me breathless. Dave is sitting hunched over at the plastic table bolted to the wall.

The flickering TV blares some morning show in the background.

"Dave?" I croak, my voice thick with sleep and panic.

He turns, a startled expression giving way to a sheepish grin. "Morning, sleepyhead."

But that grin falters as his gaze meets mine. "Uh oh," he mumbles, glancing at the clock on the wall.

The red numerals mock me back: 10:12 AM.

Mortification floods my cheeks. Ten past ten? We were supposed to be miles down the road by now! Not sprawled in a budget motel room.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" I hiss.

He holds up his hands placatingly. "Whoa, easy there. I tried, but you looked kind of pretty asleep."

 "Pretty?" I sputter, disbelief battling with the heat creeping up my neck. "Dave, it's ten past ten! We practically slept in all morning."

He shrugs. "So we did. What's the big deal? We're not exactly on a tight schedule."

Dave's words spark another wave of annoyance. "Not on a tight schedule?" I echo, incredulous. "We have a whole country to cross, remember? And not a lot of money to do it with."

"Sorry, Lewis." He sighs. "I just figured you needed the rest after yesterday."

As I stare at him, my anger slowly dissipates, replaced by a strange sense of vulnerability. Maybe a little sleep isn't the worst thing in the world.

I force a small smile. "Fine. But next time, Mister, wake me up, pretty or not. We have places to be."

A slow grin creeps across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "Deal. Now, how about some breakfast?"

🗽🚘✉️❤️🏖️ 

The smell of brewing coffee hits my nostrils the moment we step into the staff area. It's an oddly comforting aroma and it reminds me of my mom. Only Daisy, one of the owners, is there, standing by the counter.

"Oh, you both slept in. You missed the breakfast rush." She giggles, giving us a knowing look. "Sorry, all the pastries from the breakfast menu are gone."

I rub my sleep-filled eyes, a wave of mortification washing over me.

"We didn't know that--"

Jeremy steps inside, his voice booming. "There's a good diner a short drive from here, too. We can point you to..."