In Your Dreams

59 || Phoebe Summers

It’s the day. Foundation Week is here, and today marks the third day for the week—the day of the Battle of the Bands from different departments within the campus grounds. This is the event that everyone’s been buzzing about since this is the first competition show in the campus' schedule for the foundation week. Our campus has seven main departments, but more than seven bands registered for the competition. As for us, we’re representing the psychology department. Unlike the others, our department only has one band in the lineup, while some have two. Still, against all odds, I think we’ve got this.

“Are you nervous?” Jannah asks, walking beside me as we search for the rest of my bandmates. “You look nervous.” She queries, her eyes scanning my whole face for answers.

I ignore her question momentarily, scanning the crowded halls and open areas for familiar faces. We’d agreed to meet in a specific spot for one last equipment check as well as head count, but there had been... complications. Some minor inconvenience if you will. On my end, at least. I’d forgotten to wake up early, which wasn’t exactly surprising. When I say forgotten, I mean I’d deliberately turned off every single alarm just to keep enjoying the dream I was having.

Okay, so it's more pathetic that it sounds. But at least I have some reasonable explanation. Well, I think it's reasonable enough.

Ever since that faithful night I opened up to Emmett about my parents, my thoughts have been swirling with... us. I know we’re just friends—at least, that’s what he sees me. But in my dreams, we’re something more. And for once, I’ve let myself embrace it, savoring the happiness I feel in those fleeting yet fake moments we have together.

I don't know why I kept holding on to those dreams even though it'll be impossible for it to actually happen. It's just that those dreams might be the only thing I will have left when all of this is over. When I'm out of the band after this competition.

“Hello? Earth to Phoebe?” Jannah nudges me, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You didn’t answer me.”

I shake my head, getting rid of any thoughts about what might happen between Emmett and me. “Not really,” I lie through gritted teeth, even though every inch of my skin feels electrified with nerves. “But I’m sure the nervousness will disappear once I'm with the others on stage.”

“With Emmett, you mean,” Jannah mutters, smirking. Her eyes brightens up and clouded her gaze with mischief. “You two have gotten... close. A little too close, if you ask the others.”

I roll my eyes but can’t exactly argue. It's not like the two of us are trying to hide away our friendship to the others. Whenever we hang out as a group, I find myself gravitating toward him. It’s not intentional—or maybe it is. Sometimes, I forget where the line between reality and my dreams blurs, especially when he’s near. Luckily, I usually catch myself before doing something completely idiotic.

“Yeah, we’ve gotten close,” I admit, shrugging as I keep looking around. "But it's not that big of a deal. We're both just friends, nothing more." I say that not just to convince Jannah but to convince myself too.

Jannah lets out a dramatic sigh. “For years, you two were always at each other’s throats. And now, hearing you say you’ve gotten close? Weird. Exciting, but weird.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

I roll my eyes again, and just then, I spot the others standing under a large tree nearby. My gaze lands on Emmett first, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. He’s dressed in a black corduroy jacket over a white shirt, paired with beige pants and white sneakers. There’s a ring dangling on a chain around his neck—something I hadn’t noticed before—and matching chain rings on his fingers. He looks every bit the punk-rock star he’s destined to be.