In front of us, Jason and Zadie are sharing popcorn and Jason leans in to wipe some salt off the top of Other Zadie’s lip.
“Thanks,” she whispers as their eyes lock. His gaze lingers on her mouth, and she self-consciously licks her lips. I remember this exact moment, but being able to zoom out on it, to see both of us, is so different. Not only do I not hear or feel Zadie’s thundering heartbeat, but from this angle, I can see how much Jason likes her.
“Marcus,” I say in a whisper. “He totally wants to kiss her.”
Obviously, I know how this story ends. Jason waits until they’reoutside, going home for the night, before he leans in. He’ll walk her to her door, kiss her again. Then he’ll go home. She’ll go inside her house and scream because there’s no one to hear her. As she changes into her pajamas, she calls her friends and tells them it was amazing. Everything was perfect.Jasonis perfect.
“Yeah,” Marcus says flatly. “Seems like it.”
As they finish up the last game, Jason’s hand rests on Zadie’s lower back and my heart flitters. Marcus trails behind as we follow them out of the arcade.
“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” Jason says when they reach his car.
“You’ve been thinking about me?” Other Zadie takes a brave step closer to him. Jason touches her cheek.
“Of course I’ve been thinking about you,” he says. “And I’d really like to kiss you now, if that’s okay with you. But I don’t want to push my luck…”
Zadie leans up and presses her mouth to his. It catches him by surprise, but then he kisses her back, holding her face in his hands.
I don’t even notice Marcus has tried to leave again until he reappears beside me.
“Just don’t watch,” I tell him, feeling a little guilty that he’s so uncomfortable. “I’ll tell you when they’re done.”
I’m playing with the ring Jason’s mother gave me as I watch them. “He’s so respectful.” I know if someone zoomed in on me—the real Zadie or dream Zadie or whatever I am—they’d see me starry-eyed, practically swooning at the couple in front of me. I feel butterflies in my stomach at the phantom touch of Jason’s lips on mine.
“Sure,” Marcus says. He pushes his hands into his pockets, looks down at the ground.
Other Zadie is whispering to Jason, “I like the way you kiss.”
In fact, she likes it so much that she puts her full weight on Jason. He holds her by the waist to steady her.
“Slow down,” he says against her mouth. Suddenly, I’m embarrassed to be standing there next to Marcus, watching this with him. It’s obvious the other Zadie got so lost in the moment that she forgot herself. If she could, she’d wrap her legs around Jason’s waist and kiss him silly. On a first kiss.
Zadie Cartwright shouldn’t be that kind of girl.
It’s true, though, that I’ve always liked how Jason kisses. Controlled and sweet. His breath is always fresh. Never too much tongue or teeth or pressure. He knows exactly what I like, and in return, I’ve always wanted to give him more.
“Let’s just…take it slow.” There’s a look of hesitation on Jason’s face, but it’s gone a second later.
“What’s happening?” I ask Marcus, as a clear sheath starts to fall between us and them. It’s like someone stretched out a droplet of rain. Marcus and I look at each other, but even he is beginning to blur, to fade. His legs are gone, his voice echoey.
It’s happening again. We’re leaving the dream.
“Hold on,” he says, reaching out his arm, but I’m losing him to the pulling feeling, the tornado-like vacuum, the blur of colors and light and sound.
He’s gone.
They’re gone.
I’m gone.
Eight
I jerk upright, breathing hard, sputtering in the way a dying fish would on dry land, and immediately I try to situate myself.
My body is drenched in sweat, but the room around me is painted black even as a sliver of moonlight slips in from a crack in the curtains. There’s a dresser across the room, a table I recognize, bookshelf overflowing. I’m in my room. In my house.
I feel around in the dark till my hand finds the nightstand beside my bed. My glasses. My phone.
