Unbound (Unbound, Book 1) ~Formerly Casting Power~

Chapter 8

In my dream, I was a flower, swaying with the wind. It was amazing, and I felt free—no obligations or expectations. Rain fell, making me feel energized as nutrients filled my limbs. Then the sun shone bright, drying me out. I'd never felt so parched. When it didn't go away and the rain didn't fall, I felt like I was dying of dehydration. I felt the heat increase to the point of unbearable, then suddenly, it was too much.

My hair burst to flames like the petal of the flower in my mother's garden, my arms waving through the air like the leaves still moving with the breeze.

I screamed as I disintegrated to ash with the wind to scatter.

Jerking awake, I sat up in bed and breathed deeply until my heart slowed down.

Finally, with a sigh, I gave my head a shake and shifted to get up, barely managing to muffle my scream with my hand as I slid back to the edge of the bed. Just as quickly, I lowered my hand and squinted at the unexpected guest who'd crawled into my bed as I slept. Nancy. My nerves settled as I took three calming deep breaths.

"Hey, Nance," I whispered, and she rolled over with a smile, oblivious. I reached out and shook her shoulders. "Nancy. Wake up."

She swiped at my hands and mumbled. Whatever she was dreaming of that made her smile made me jealous. When was the last time I had dreamed like that? I couldn't remember through the nightmares, but the closest thing I could recall experiencing in the last four years was to not dream at all.

"Whatever."

I jumped down from the bed and ran to find something to satisfy my stomach's growl. Though she was always up for trying something at least twice in case the first attempt was a false negative, Nancy didn't do anything she didn't want to do. It shouldn't be surprising that her stubbornness extended to her subconscious.

The lights were off when I got downstairs, the kitchen barely illuminated from the fading sun shining in through the window. The yellow post-it my mother had pressed to the front of the fridge to say she was out with Zachariah stuck out like a nightlight. Plucking it off, I opened the door to find that she had yet to buy food. Thanks, Mom.

Forgetting to buy your teenager food? I'd say that classified as an emergency. Taking a couple of the twenties from the cookie jar that had never held a cookie, I ordered two-for-one pizzas. Then I refocused on my immediate problem: waking up Nancy before the food arrived. There was only one thing I knew of that could wake anyone.

"Nance? You awake yet?" Entering my bedroom again with full hands and a smile, I wasn't surprised to see that she remained comatose. With slow motions, I rounded the bed and extended my arm, raising it above her. "Nancy? You have three seconds to wake up. One, two... two-and-a-half—three!"

I flicked my wrist and the pitcher of water I'd grabbed before leaving the kitchen let loose in a steady stream. It landed on her nose, just between her eyes, to trickle down to her chin and across her cheeks. The water rolled down, cutting a path across her neck just below her ears to soak my sheets around her. Her hands came up as a shield and she sputtered awake, her body twitching with a confused shock like a circuit board on the fritz.

"What the—?" She spit the water out of her mouth and sat up, glaring around the room until her eyes focused on me. "What the hell? What'd you do that for?"

"Morning," I said and jumped onto the bed on my knees, my fists pressing the mattress at my side. "I ordered pizza and you wouldn't wake up."

"So, you poured water on my face?" Nancy pinched her nose and shook her head repeatedly and, just for a moment, I felt bad for what I'd done.