The Way It Was Before

eighteen

I had a dream about us. We were standing in the middle of a road that stretched out straight into the darkness. Michael was wearing a familiar red cap, a dark shadow covering the top half of his face. He held out his hand for me to take and smiled to reassure me that everything would be okay.

We ran through the trees that stood like sentries on either side of the road until we came to a clearing where the line of trees had vanished to reveal a vast lake, the full moon beaming over the water. It was an extraordinary sight, but it didn't manage to put my thoughts at rest. Why are we running? What are we running away from?

Up the long and incredibly steep hill, he and I climbed for what seemed like hours until a shadowy figure came into view. A house. It was old, painted in dark green, and was positioned in the middle of nowhere. I had never seen that place, but somehow, I felt as if I had been there already.

My grip on Michael's hand began to loosen, and I watched in fear as he slipped away. I tried to grab him, but he was going fast toward the house. He didn't look back. He began to fade out of sight. I called for him to stop running and wait for me, but I was unheard as I spiraled into the darkness.

My leg jerked, and I woke up with a gasp. I noticed that I was in my bed, and Clover was sitting beside me. Her hair was damp, and she was already dressed.

"You're finally awake," she said.

I rubbed my eyes. "Wait... I... I was in the chair last night. How did I—?"

"You teleported," she replied, and I grunted a laugh. "No, I woke up at three and saw you in that awful sleeping position so I moved you to your bed. What were you doing last night? And what were those noises?"

"Uh... nothing."

She made a sly grin. "Did you have, like, sexy times with Michael over the phone?"

A tingle ran through my body, and I didn't feel sleepy anymore. Hitting her back, I growled, "Gross, Clover!"

She laughed and threw my bathing towel over my face. "Hurry up. We might miss the bus again."

When she left the room, I went to the table to check my phone. Zero new messages. The battery was almost empty. I charged it and prepared myself for school, shaking off the remnants of the dream and the foreboding feeling it had given me.

Him running away, and me being left behind.

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Michael didn't come to school that day. Not that he was sick or on vacation or had some appointment, just that he didn't come to school. Thinking about the strange noises coming from his end of the call, I worried about him, but I kept my qualms to myself.

I spent the time at school hanging out with the band. We chatted and jammed a few songs, our loud voices blending with the other sounds in the cafeteria. Clover had finally relaxed around Clint, and they began to have a world of their own, exchanging talks only the two of them knew. Clint looked like he was in heaven.