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Amber Blake is having dreams, and they just might be the key to saving her best friend, Mark.
Unfortunately, she's too preoccupied pretending to hate the boy next door, Carter Hayes. Secretly hoping to rekindle what once was, Amber atte...
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My eyes snap open and find everything wrong.
The sun's been snuffed out by a blanket of darkness, leaving the air frigid against my bare arms. A sprinkling of stars acts as the only source of light, weak, flickering in and out like a short circuit. Searching the clearing, nothing surrounds me but trees that stretch on into oblivion. I try to keep my breaths even, reminding myself that I know where I am.
I'm ok. I'm ok.
Maybe if I say it enough, I'll believe it.
There's a clock — at least the sound of one. Gears grinding against rusted metal. It grates against my nerves until they're frayed, leaving me numb with fear. There's nothing but the constant tick of its hands.
Tick.
Tick.
"Figure it out!"
A voice booms through the silence, shattering my eardrums and making me scream. I want to run — holy shit, I wanna run — but the roots from the log grow over my limbs, twisting and pulling until it feels like I'm being swallowed whole.
I attempt a scream, but I'm falling too fast, the log consuming me—
"Amber!"
Mark's voice and a strong shove to the shoulder snaps me awake. I nearly go tumbling off the log, catching myself at the last second on a nearby branch. Wrenching myself upright again, I find him watching me from under his brown hair. He's let it grow out too long over the summer, but I'm tired of reminding him to get it cut.
"If I were you, I'd stop sleeping through my tutoring sessions. Looks like that study guide I gave you went to waste, huh?" Mark refocuses on my math section in his lap. From this end of the log, I can see it's covered in red marks.
I lean back against the uprooted base of the tree, trying to slow my heartbeat. It isn't just the rude awakening that has my nerves shot. Something about the nap lingers, itching at the back of my neck and making the hairs stand on end. But just as vague details of a dream start coming back to me, Mark kicks my foot.
