Nora~~
Charlie and I come down the stairs side by side. Pace waits for us at the bottom, a pocket square peeks out of his blazer.
"Miss Everley, what a pleasure to see you again."
"Likewise," I grit out between a smile.
His eyes go to the rose in my hand. "A gift from my son?"
I thread my hand through Charlie's. "Yes."
"Dad, we should probably eat before the food gets cold."
"That shouldn't be a problem. You and Nora would be able to conjure something up for us if it did."
"I've never seen her conjure food before."
Pace's eyes turn on me.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I squeeze Charlie's hand. "I've certainly tried, but nothing came of it." I do my best to keep my voice steady, so Pace won't see through the lie.
The food has already been set out for us on the table. This is the dining room Charlie rifted me to that day he found me down in the subway station. My eyes slide to the wall he held me against, but when I notice Charlie sees where my gaze lands, I quickly focus on taking my seat. Pace sits across from me and Charlie who told me his dad elected to forego the seat at the head of the table so he can watch us both head on at the same time.
Pace cuts into his salmon, and Charlie spears a roasted carrot with his fork.
I work on slicing up my food to keep busy, the idea of eating with Pace upsetting my stomach.
"Charlie has explained the Lucid classifications and his idea to you?"
I continue slicing my food, working on the fish. "Yes."
"And what are your thoughts? I'm sure this all must be a lot to take in."
"Do my thoughts matter?" I keep my tone light but grip my utensils.
"I want to make sure I have your full cooperation."
"You do, Dad." Charlie sets his fork and knife down. "Nora assured me you do. There's no need for extra steps."
Pace wipes his mouth with his napkin. "Those steps of course won't be necessary if she isn't a Class One."
"And if I am, I assume you'll still wish for me to be the next master dreamer."
"I've yet to decide. It also depends on if your first child is a Class One, let alone a Lucid."
Our first child. This all suddenly starts to feel real.
"Is something wrong with your food?" Pace asks.
"Oh, no. It's fine."
"But you haven't eaten any."
I bite my tongue, and over my jeans, Charlie brushes his hand against my thigh for a brief moment letting me know he's here.
"Nora and I are both still accepting this change. We're overwhelmed. That's all."
Using his knife, Pace slides a piece of salmon onto his fork. "There's no need to be overwhelmed. You're both still kids. Once you're both past eighteen, then we can start the study." A study. That's what he's calling it. Pace puts the fish in his mouth, and I force myself to eat one of the smaller pieces I cut of the vegetables.
"Not being a Class One, doesn't mean you won't still be the master dreamer. I hope you understand that, dear."
Charlie sets his wine glass down with enough force to slosh the red liquid, spilling it onto the cream-colored tablecloth. "Must we talk about this over dinner?"
"I don't wish to instill Nora with false hope."
"You don't have to worry about that. You've made all her prospects bleak."
Pace rolls his eyes. "The pedigree was your idea. Besides, Nora, you find my son handsome, don't you?"
I reach for my wine glass. "Yes. Very," I add for good measure and take a sip, not daring to look at Charlie.
Pace reaches for his own glass. "My son would be a fool if he didn't find you beautiful."
Charlie's fork clangs against his plate. "Mom would be disgusted if she knew you were using me as an experiment."
A muscle near Pace's eyes twitches. Taking his cup in both hands, he sighs. "I hardly think she'd care considering she didn't hesitate to leave, never worrying about what happened to you."
"You locked her in a dream. She hardly got to know me."
My hand shakes, the wine in my glass trembling.
When Charlie said his mother was gone, I thought she had died. I didn't realize she had been in the dream. Does this mean she escaped? If it does, that means there's still hope I can get out.
"Enough, Charlie." Pace lowers his glass, slow and deliberate. "You've almost paid back your debt. Don't make me increase it."
Charlie presses his lips into a thin line and shakes his head.
"Eat. Both of you. No need to let perfectly good food go to waste." Waste, as if it's real.
I eat a tiny piece of fish, washing it down with wine. Hearing Pace talk about Charlie's debt regarding me is enough to make me sick all over again.
I've managed to get down half of my food when Pace drawls, "I don't feel the chemistry between you two."
A slice of carrot gets stuck in my throat. As I reach for my wine, Charlie says, "You're my dad. You're not supposed to see it or feel it."
Pace wipes his mouth with his cloth napkin and drops it on the table, signaling he's finished eating. "Kiss."
I nearly spit out my wine.
"Dad, I hardly think . . . considering the circumstances . . . It's inappropriate."
"I need to be sure I have your full cooperation. If you can't even kiss, how can you expect me to believe you'll have kids together?"
Can I excuse myself from the table? Is that allowed?
Charlie closes his eyes, his frustration evident in the lines on his forehead.
"Charlie," I finally say.
Opening his eyes, he takes my hand and pulls us to our feet.
This kiss will mean nothing. It's all for show. We're nothing more than actors.
He leans down, his mouth near my ear and whispers, "Don't move." His cheek brushes mine as he leans back only slightly to press his lips against my cheek.
He rifts us into his bedroom and pulls away, stalking to the open door leading out into the hall. With enough force to rattle his dresser, he slams the door shut.
Covering my eyes with my hand, I shake my head. This is going to be a disaster. I still feel where his lips touched my skin, and I can't get the feeling to go away. "He's going to kill us."
Peeling my hand away from my face, Charlie rolls his eyes, close once more. "He doesn't know that I didn't whisk you off to my bedroom to ravish you."
I pull my phone from my purse where it sits on his bed. "You mean you didn't?" I have three missed calls from Avery, a voicemail, and a text.
I may have found a way to get the map. Meet me ASAP at the entrance to the boardwalk.
Her text was dated fifteen minute ago.
"Neither of us want that."
I bite my lip and try not to question the sting that comes with his words.
I'll be there as soon as I can.
"Exactly. Might as well delay it as long as possible."
"Right. Of course."
I slip my phone back into my purse and nestle the top of the long strap on my shoulder.
"Can I take you home?"
"I have to meet a friend. She's had a bit of a bad day. Needs to talk about it. That kind of thing. I'll see you later. Thanks for a rather non-boring dinner."
Before he can say anything, I rift under the boardwalk, protected from sight by the shadows and the night sky. A gentle ocean breeze hits me, and the waves crash louder tonight. I make my way up the stairs, the breaking of the waves lulling, reminding me of how tired I've been. It took everything in me not to curl up on his bed.
Charlie.
I rub at my cheek to get rid of the lingering presence of that kiss. It wasn't a real kiss, not because this is a dream but because it was only on the cheek. It's the kind of kiss one would give their grandma.
Feeling my toes curl when he kissed me is unimportant.
Entirely so.
Avery leans against one post of the archway for the boardwalk's entry and exit. When she sees me, she pushes off of it with her foot and pounces, grabbing my arm. "Where have you been?" She pulls me down the boardwalk that's full of people enjoying the breeze from the railings and the drinks in the bars that line the boardwalk.
"I was eating with Tye and had my phone put away."
Avery heads for what looks to be one of the nicer bars called The Siren.
"Are we meeting someone?"
The front wall of The Siren is open, and soft, melodic music drifts through the opening. The walls are draped in fishing nets and blue and green curtains and mirrors of various sizes hang throughout.
"He doesn't know we're coming."
"He?"
"An ex-OneirTech employee, like Raymond, but without the tragic backstory."
"What's with all the mirrors?" I keep catching bits and pieces of my reflection as we walk by.
"It's all about the theme—being ensnared by the siren's beauty. The patrons can look into the mirror to 'see the siren' but then just see their own reflection. It's all an ego boost."
Avery takes us to the back of the bar where there's a hallway with doors leading to the restrooms. On the wall hangs a floor length mirror. She pushes on it, and it swings outward into darkness.
"Avery?"
She steps through it. "It's a speakeasy with a bar as the cover."
I follow her through, and once she closes the mirror behind us, lights turn on revealing a hallway painted a deep maroon and black marble floors leading to a descending staircase. With Avery in front of me, I do a quick sweep for mics and cameras but find none.
"What's the guy's non-tragic backstory?"
"He wanted to live in Somnia after he retired. I imagine Doctor Pace was all too happy to get another dreamer."
As we reach the staircase, I ask, "How do you know he isn't loyal to Pace?"
"I don't, but as we haven't heard from Raymond, I can assume he's had no luck. You want out just as much as I do. It's not going to come without risk."
The right wall of the staircase ends, and before us is a room shaped like an opera house's auditorium except where the stage should be is a tank wall, the water behind it lit up with florescent blue light. Two whale sharks drift by, the one higher up in the water brushing against the tank's clear wall.
Tables are spread out across the bottom floor and throughout the seven balconies. Off to the side, a band plays jazz on a small stage and close to the back wall is a bar.
"How do you know about this place?"
She continues down the steps. "Ricky and I go to bars every weekend to scope out his competition." She shakes her head. "Don't look so impressed. It's a dream remember?"
"The whale sharks, they're . . ."
"Not whale sharks dreaming. They're not real, just like every animal in Somnia."
"I was going to say they're magnificent, even if they're only a dream."
"Don't go getting attached to Somnia."
Avery leads us across the ground floor, weaving us through tables. The club only seems to be about half full and most of the occupants are dressed in cocktail gowns and tuxes. Avery and I don't blend in, even if I dressed up for dinner at Charlie's. Avery's clothed in jeans and a tight-fitting shirt.
"Let me do the talking, okay?"
"This is all you." I bite my lip, certain we're about to be caught. If Pace finds out I'm trying to escape, he may not wait to make me the master dreamer.
In a round booth closest to the tank, an older man with gray and black hair slings his arms along the rim of the booth. A man about Ricky's age is tucked into the crook of his left arm, and a girl, maybe in her early twenties, takes the spot in his right arm.
The older man's bow tie is loosened, and a half empty bottle of tequila sits on the table surrounded by crystal shot glasses.
Avery tilts her chin up and rolls her shoulders back.
A man dressed in a tux, his bowtie straight and tight, walks up to the table. I latch onto Avery's shoulder and steer her behind a column that supports the upper levels. More booths and tables are back here but are empty.
"Do you often drag people into shadows, Nora?"
I give her a look that says I'm unamused. "That man who just walked up to the table you were headed for was Doctor Cobbs."
"Cobbs . . ."
"Have you met him?"
She looks around the column, her chest heaving deeply only once. "No."
"He works for Pace."
The older man grins at Cobbs, and the younger man slides a shot glass full of tequila toward the doctor while the woman passes him a small bag of something white.
"He questioned me after Pace had me tortured."
When Avery looks back at me, her eyes are watery. "I want to wake up. I can't take another dead end."
"Who is it that you have out there?"
She wraps her arms around herself. "No one, but at least I'll be free. I'll have Ricky, and we can live without fearing we're going to be caught at any moment."
A third whale shark swims by as one of the original two disappears from view.
"We'll find a way."
The sea breeze hits us as we step out of The Siren. Avery goes up to the railing overlooking the beach and ocean, the wind blowing her hair around her face.
The waves crashing and rolling remind me of sunny days spent lying in the sands at Myrtle beach. I'd curl up in the towel as the wind blew past me in a soft caress, the waves white noise, and I'd drift into a shallow sleep.
"Were you ever able to convince Tye that this is a dream?"
"Actually, yes." I tuck my hair behind my ears. "I said it's like we're in a video game."
Avery laughs under her breath. "I suppose that does makes sense. You two seem to spend a lot of time together."
"That's because we pretty much live together."
"Are you two dating?"
"No. He's just wanted me to stay since our friend was taken. The two of them were together . . . basically."
The moon shines down on the blackened waters. If Somnia is all there is, what's out there on the horizon? Is there some boundary that forces boats to turn back? This isn't the first time I've looked out on this water and wondered what's at the end. Charlie—he would tell me what would happen if you went too far.
"He's not your type then?"
"I don't think I have much of a type. Are you trying to get me to set you up?"
Avery shakes her head, her hair falling forward, shielding her face. "He's not really my type."
"Have you met him?"
She looks at me, her hair falling back. "No, but I know he's not my type."
My eyes continue to grow heavier with the crashing of each wave. "What is your type?"
"You."
I don't blink. I don't move, shocked. She's always about to rip my throat out whenever I take too long to grasp something. She's can't like me.
"Nora?"
I look away to gaze out over the ocean. "Avery, I . . ."
"You don't feel the same way, do you?"
I clasp my hands together. "No."
She rubs at her face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"
"Don't apologize for being honest."
She snorts softly. "That's never been something I've been good at. So, who is it then? If not Tye or Ryann, there must be someone—at least at some point before Somnia."
"There's no one," I say even as I see Charlie's face in my mind. "I used to have a crush on Ryann back when we were still awake, but"—I touch my neck—"Pace has ruined my memory of him."
"You used to work for Charlie Pace, right?"
I can't stop my hand from drifting up from my neck to my cheek, frustrating me to no end. "Yeah."
"Was he just as bad as his father?"
"He was so much better than him. Sometimes I thought I could trust him with everything. When my memories were coming back, he tried to shield me from his family—his father." My fingers graze over my cheek. "I don't think I would be standing here right now if it weren't for him. Pace would have discovered I'm a Class One by now."
"So you trusted him?"
"No."
"But you were fond of him?"
My hand lingers on my cheek, barely touching my skin, like his brief kiss. "No. No, I wasn't." I pull my hand away.
From the corner of her eye, she looks at me. "Do you think he would help us? With him, we wouldn't need a map."
"He's Pace's son."
Avery ducks her head. "Just consider it. He may be our only shot."
*****
Once Avery heads home, I pull out my phone and text Charlie.
Are you home?
I'm being irrational. Once I get away from the waves, I'll be fine and will be able to push this weariness off.
Yeah. I'm in my room.
Nora: So if I suddenly appear in your room, I'm not going to find you naked?
Charlie: Do you want to find me naked?
I roll my eyes even as I feel myself blush. It's Charlie. Not a prince charming. Even if he's helping me, he's still a certifiable villain's son—I shouldn't be experiencing any curling of toes, butterflies in my stomach, or warmth in my face.
I take one last look at the moon hovering over the horizon, at the waves rolling, and close my eyes, picturing Charlie's bedroom.
I find him reclined on his bed, reading a book. He doesn't even appear startled as if a girl suddenly appearing out of thin air in his bedroom is an everyday occurrence for him. He sets the book aside and stands up. "Is something wrong?"
It turns out the only thing with a stronger pull over the ocean is a bed with a thick comforter and fluffy pillows. "Can I use your bed?"
"Sure."
"I've just been tired for so long and didn't know that I could—"
"You don't have to explain. We're the same remember?"
You were fond of him?
No.
Yes.
My throat is dry, and I wring my hands, unsure of what to do next. "How could I forget?"
On his nightstand lies the rose he gave me. I left it on the dinner table.
"Did you want to go to your place to change?"
I shake my head. I have an array of nightwear that I found waiting for me when I moved in. Just like the underwear, the pajamas aren't something I just want to appear in Charlie's room wearing. Having realized that Pace was responsible for my housewarming presents makes me want to burn everything in my closet and dresser.
Charlie opens up a drawer in his own dresser and pulls out a green t-shirt. He hands it to me. "At least put this on. That shirt looks uncomfortable."
"Thank you." I slip into his bathroom to change. I leave my strapless bra on—I don't have any plans to not ever wear a bra around him—and tug on his shirt. It smells like detergent without any trace of his usual choice of cologne.
By the time I exit the bathroom, Charlie has gone back to reading. He moves to set the book aside, but I tell him not to stop because of me and ask what he's reading.
"Around the World in Eighty Days." His words tug at my heart.
"Maybe one day you could spend a whole year exploring the world."
"I gave up that chance. I don't expect another one."
"What do you mean?"
He swings his legs over the side of his bed and walks over to his bookshelf. "It's nothing. Do you want to read something? I have books that you can't find elsewhere in Somnia."
"I suppose this is the part where I'm supposed to swoon over your impressive library."
Looking at me over his shoulder, he raises his eyebrows. "I mean, I would swoon."
I laugh. "I've never been much of a reader." Don't get me wrong, I loved losing myself in a story, but I could always do that in a video game and still feel like I had some control over what would happen. "You want to pick something out for me? I know you're just dying to."
He grins. "And here I thought you didn't know me at all." He slides a book off a middle shelf and returns to his bed. Settling back against his pillows, he pats the spot beside him and opens up the book before thumbing through the pages. "Fancy a bed time story, Nora?"
"That's a term I forgot about." I press my hand into the bed and weariness's weight fully presses down on me. I ease up onto the bed's edge, feeling the mattress dip beneath me. A bed is exactly how I remember it—glorious and comforting.
I rest my head on the pillow and turn toward him, drawing my knees upward. We're on opposite ends of his king bed. It should feel like we're farther apart than when we hold hands to rift, but somehow, I can swear we're closer together now than even then.
"What have you picked out?"
"A fairy tale."
"I didn't think those were banned."
"Don't tell me the story of Sleeping Beauty still hasn't come back to you."
I shake my head and laugh. "You can't help yourself, can you?"
His eyes gleam. "When else would this story be more perfect?"
"I can assure you I'm not a sleeping beauty."
"And I can assure you that you are."
Our eyes widen at the same moment.
"Have you been watching me sleep?"
Charlie's cheeks redden. "I don't stare at you for hours on end, but I have seen you in the Hall."
"Because you want to?"
"Wouldn't you go see Radia and Tye if you could?"
"It feels like you're visiting my grave." I shudder. "I'm not dead. You can see me right here."
"Wouldn't you though?"
The sigh I release makes my eyes heavier. "Yes."
He focuses on the book. "Now, if I don't start reading, you'll be asleep before I get through the first line."
I tuck my hands against my chest. "Thank you for this."
Charlie begins reading about curses and fairies, and as his words wash over me, my eyes close.
In the story the princess falls asleep, and the castle is overgrown with thorns while she's trapped in her dreams.
Okay so a lot happened in this chapter but one of my favorite parts has to be the whale sharks. They're one of my favorite animals. My favorite, oddly enough, is a bison. I once got chased by them in Yellowstone National Park.