Airel: The Awakening (Airel Saga Book One)

Chapter XXIII

I WAS ALIVE. SOMETHING was scratchy against my skin. I opened my eyes and tried to orient myself. I was not in a world of black mountains or shrieking monsters. I was on my back on the rough, weedy, straw grass of the practice field, and the whole football team was ringed around me, staring like I was the freak du jour.

My head throbbed. I reached up to touch the bump that was forming on my forehead, the one I had sustained from the bleachers in real life, the fatal wound I had suffered in a nightmare. It was one and the same. And it hurt. I was a little freaked out as the last vestiges of the dream ebbed, a riptide slinking away as foamy reality washed in above, dominant.

“Are you okay, Airel?” The voice, a rock crusher, could only be Coach Dennis. “Can you see how many fingers I’m holding up?” He looked down at me with a concerned scowl on his face, not so much in concern for my well-being as much as for the well-being of his team’s practice session. I could tell he wanted to command me not to pass out again. Football was serious business.

“I’m fine,” I shouted. I sat up and tried to reboot myself. “I’m fine,” I said, trying to stand up. The dream clung to me by my fingertips; I was still scared out of my wits. But that quickly gave way to embarrassment as I stumbled and someone caught me. “Just slipped. Hit my head,” I lied, looking for emotional cover. I glanced around quickly and saw that the blond man was gone. I wasn’t surprised. I wondered if he was just a figment of my imagination, but then, Kim had seen him too.

The coach said, “I’ll have one of the boys walk you to the nurse’s station to get looked at.” He snapped his fingers at his minions and then looked me dead in the eyes, pointing his fat index finger at my welt. “Never mess with a head injury.” 

Michael said, “I’ll take her, Coach.” He was already at my side, lifting me into his arms like a helpless victim—or like a Roman bride, God help me—before I could do or say anything. 

My mouth was not responding to my will, but my arms wrapped around his neck. That was a reflex. After all, what if he dropped me? Yeah, right. Kim wore a stupid grin on her face that suggested I had fallen on purpose just so I could get carted off in Michael’s arms. Yeah, Kim, it’s a total conspiracy—and I’m not actually your friend, either. 

Coach barked one last order at Michael. “Fine. Come right back, though. We have two more drills before the end of practice, and you need to run them.” Michael nodded, and I could smell the sweat from his skin. I didn’t mind it. Everything about him smelled good anyway, and I couldn’t help but get carried away with the fact that my dream guy—heck, any girl’s dream guy—was not only paying attention to me, not only close to me, not only holding me … but he wasn’t afraid to sweat on me, either.

Michael whispered just low enough for me to hear. “You should be more careful. Next time you might break your neck.” There was a delicious smirk on his face. 

I tried to sound mad, but it came off weak. “I’m fine.”

“Hm.” Michael snorted. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

I gasped in feigned shock. “Don’t go around quoting MacBeth. People will think you’re a total nerd-ola.”

He just smiled and kept going, carrying me like a knight of the realm would carry a maiden from the dragon’s lair.

“You don’t have to carry me. I can walk just fine on my own.” 

“Sure you can, but it’s more fun this way.”

I was in heaven, feeling his strong arms enfolding me. In spite of everything that had happened in the past few days, all the chaos and weirdness, I felt secure in his arms. I could have died happy on the spot. I did not want him to let me go, not ever.