Collision Course(51)
Author: S.C. Stephens

I smacked his arms away and raised mine up in the air. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "God, I never realized what a f**king moron you are." He shoved my shoulder again. "Sawyer, idiot. You want to be with Sawyer. You know that…right?"

I bristled, suddenly furious that everyone was trying to tell me how I felt. That everyone was after me for wanting to be with my girlfriend. What was so wrong about wanting to be loyal to my girlfriend? Couldn’t people just leave me to my fantasy life? Couldn’t my fantasy life leave me to my fantasy life? I stepped back and made to move around him. "Why can’t we just get together and hang out like we used to, Darren? Why do you always have to get after me?"

His hands reached out to stop me and I turned to face him. I thought his eyes were misted over, but I couldn’t really tell through my own angry fog. "Because I’m your best friend. And sometimes that means I have to tell you things you don’t want to hear."

I shook my head, my anger fading as sadness filled me. "Your brother, your whole family, the school, god, the whole town…nothing there is easy for me. I just need you to accept that this is how I want things…and be my friend. I need this, Darren. I need you guys."

His eyes definitely misted. "I know, Luc. And if I thought it would help you, I wouldn’t say anything. But, you’re scaring me. You’re scaring all of us. You lived, Luc… " he clutched my shoulders, a tear dropping to his cheek, "…so live."

The icy fear I’d felt before returned, and I suddenly didn’t want to be there anymore. I backed away from him, feeling more like I was at a counseling session, backing away from Mrs. Ryans, than backing away from my best friend. As much as I tried to recreate my old life, I suddenly felt like I hadn’t recreated it at all. "I’ve gotta wake up now, Darren. I’ll see you around."

His face pleaded at me as another tear dropped to his cheek. "Wait…Luc…"

My eyes opened and I stared at my ceiling, still seeing Darren’s stricken face. I closed my eyes and felt the tears well, but I forced them back and made myself get up. It was still late at night, not as much time had gone by as it had seemed. I stood and ran a hand down my face, wanting that dream to fade out of my memory. I’d gotten too used to retaining them though. It was such a habit in me, pulling in every moment of the dreams so that I wouldn’t forget them, that I couldn’t stop myself from doing it now. The conversation was embedded in me, like it or not.

I stood and made my way to my door, wanting some water. I stopped when my eye caught the picture I always had tucked in my mirror. I stared at Darren’s face in it and wondered if my dream version of him was as close to the real Darren as I thought it was. Unfortunately, I had nothing to compare it to. Darren and I had never had a conversation about sleeping with a dead girl in real life. In fact, the only conversations we’d had about sex, were him usually teasing me for my lack of it. He’d never understood why we’d let opportunity after opportunity pass us by, time and time again. Sometimes I didn’t either, but we’d thought we’d had more time. We’d thought we’d had all the time in the world. We were so wrong.

I tore my eyes away from the picture and made my way out to the hallway, needing that water now. I stopped just outside my door and paused, every fiber of me shooting with anticipatory energy. I heard a voice coming from the kitchen. Immediately, I looked back at my mom’s door. It was late, or early depending on your definition, and Mom should be home from the diner. Her door was closed and her light was off. I couldn’t tell if she was in there or not.

I turned back to the hallway and listened harder as I lightly crept along the wall. I didn’t know who was in our house, or whether or not they meant us any harm, all I knew for sure, was the voice was deep – a man’s voice, and oddly…familiar.

I paused in the living room where I could hear better, my entire body tense. A softer voice answered the man’s and I recognized it as my mother’s. I relaxed as I realized she was talking to someone she knew. That probably meant the person wasn’t going to attack us. Curiosity propelled me forward though. Who was she talking to at this hour?

The voices were too low to make out the words, but the tone was a soft and relaxed one and occasionally a soft, feminine laugh echoed back to me. The overall vibe I sensed was that she was having a friendly conversation. I inched even closer, hating that I was kind of spying on her, but not able to stand not knowing. I had a sudden respect for cats and their dreaded sense of curiosity.

Just when I thought I heard the man say something with my name in it, followed by a long sigh and an, "I don’t know" from my mom, I clumsily bumped against the end table next to the couch, knocking over a picture frame on top of it. I immediately righted it, but by the silence in the kitchen, I knew they’d heard that. Feeling guilty and stupid, I darted back to my room.

Leaning against my door, I heard the front door open and close. I exhaled softly and leaned my head back against the wood, wondering what that had been about. I could hear my mom coming up the hall and I froze, careful to not make a sound, so she’d think I was still sleeping. Her shuffling feet paused at my door and I felt her lean close to it.

"Luc? Are you awake?" she asked softly. I stifled a sigh, torn by wanting to lie with silence, and wanting to be honest and confess. "Lucas?" she said again.

I did let out a sigh this time and turning, opened the door. I kept enough from my mom already; I really couldn’t handle keeping anymore. "Yeah, I’m awake," I muttered, as I guiltily looked down at my feet.

"Is everything okay?" she asked and I looked back up at her. She was still wearing her diner’s uniform and her hair was still pulled back into a falling apart ponytail. She looked tired and worn, but a faint trace of happiness was around her too. Nothing obvious, just a crinkle in the lines around her eyes, a slight lifting of her lip, even as her brow bunched together in concern, probably nothing no one but me would even notice.

Her identical eyes flicked over my face and I quickly answered her. "I’m fine…just couldn’t sleep." She nodded and brought a hand up to my cheek. She was about to speak when I interrupted her, "Was someone here? I thought I heard a guy’s voice." I blushed a bit, at admitting that I’d been listening, but again, curiosity.

Her face paled and she dropped her hand from my cheek. She opened her mouth a couple times before answering me. "Uh, oh…that was…" Her eyes went over my face faster, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she was searching for a lie. "Um, Jake…from the diner." Her face relaxed and she casually tossed a hand in the air. "I had trouble starting my car and he followed me home, just to make sure I was safe." She smiled and patted my shoulder. "I offered him a cup of coffee before he drove home. I’m sorry if we woke you."

I frowned as I looked over her face. That seemed genuine enough. I’d met Jake a few times. He was a cook there and always went out of his way to help anybody who needed it. Him trailing my mom home, just to make sure she made it back safely, was exactly something he would do. But still, something about the set of her jaw and the glint in her eye was screaming at me – ‘don’t ask anymore, just believe me’.

I sighed, thinking my dream had just thrown my senses out of whack. My mom wouldn’t lie about something like that. She may try and hide how difficult her life was from me, but she would never flat out lie. Not to me.

Guilt washed through me that I couldn’t be more honest with her. I leaned forward and pulled her in for a hug. "You didn’t, Mom." I sighed again. "Sorry to spy on you…I just didn’t know who was here." I tightened the hug and whispered into her hair, "It’s my job to keep you safe, right?"

She returned my hug and then pulled away. She brought her hand up to my cheek again and shook her head. "No, it’s my job to keep you safe. No matter how old you get…you’ll still be my child, and I would do anything for you." She leaned into me, her face suddenly intense. "You know that, right?"

I blinked at her expression and nodded. "Yeah, I know, Mom."

She nodded and relaxed, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Try to go back to sleep, Lucas. You need your rest."

I watched her head down the hall to her room and then turned and closed my door. I had no idea if I wanted to go back to sleep again or not. I didn’t want to fight again with Darren. I hated that. Our time together was a precious thing to me and I hated to waste it, spatting like catty girls. I shook my head and sighed. Well, even picking a fight with Darren was preferable to the numbness of my everyday existence. I’d take the chance in the same way I took a chance every time I closed my eyes.

There was always a risk when I dreamed, always a possibility that a pleasant one could morph into a nightmare. Like the one I’d had that had driven me to a regretfully passionate moment with Sawyer. A moment that still plagued me, both by how fond the memory was, and how horrid the memory was. I hated hurting or confusing Sawyer. She was my best "living" friend.

With what felt like the hundredth sigh tonight, I crawled back into my bed and laid my head back on my arms. I stared at the familiar cracks and fault lines in the plaster. Lines I couldn’t really see in the dark room, but knew were there. Spacing out as I mentally traced the lines, I heard a voice beside me quietly say, "You really should fix those one day, Lucas."

Smiling widely, I turned my head. "Hey, Barbie."

Lillian’s pale eyes, gray in the darkness of my room, seemed to glow at me with life. She lightly smacked my arm. "Don’t call me that."

I grinned and leaned in to kiss her. "How about…I love you instead."

I pulled back to stare at her and she bit her lip before shaking her head and sighing, "I love you too."

She leaned into me, wrapping her hands into my hair and pulling me on top of her. My hands wrapped around her trim waist and ran up her spine. A shiver ran through me as our suddenly bare bodies pressed together, and with a deep moan, I lost myself in the depth of her sweet kiss.

Chapter 16

D-Day

I’m frustrated. No, I think I left frustrated behind me a few days ago. Now I was moving past that, into deeply, chronically agitated. I’d been having more and more frequent dreams of Lillian lately…and they weren’t going like I’d planned, or ever even imagined they would.

This morning, much like several other mornings, I’d awoken with a start from a dream with her. It had been an intense one, much like several other dreams I’d had with her. We’d been in my room, groaning with desire, and she’d told me that she loved me more than anything. I’d told her I loved her too and wanted her desperately. She’d said "yes" and moved me on top of her, our nak*d, writhing bodies lining up perfectly.

That was when I woke up. That was when I always woke up. We’d yet to make it past this point.

I smacked the pillow beside me hard and cursed the fact that I couldn’t control the dreams like I wanted to. I couldn’t stop myself from waking up right at the critical moment and it was beginning to irritate me beyond belief. I wanted to be with her…why couldn’t I be with her?

I got up, showered, shaved and got dressed for my day. It was Friday. It was the Friday – dance day. D-day. I knew what school was going to be like today. It would be a heightened version of what this entire week had been. With the upcoming promise of a break from school on the horizon, and the hope of a romantic (for the girls) and possibly deviant (for the guys) night coming up, the student body had been energized.