Page 23 of Realm of Dreams & Shadows

I watch her go, wrapping her easy acceptance around me like a warm and fuzzy blanket. And, more important, feeling like maybe—just maybe—I’m not alone in this anymore.

Chapter

Nine

The next few days fly by in a flurry of exploring the campus with Tia. The streets and sidewalks twist and turn rather than intersect at right angles, making it that much more challenging to find a classroom. Honestly, they need a class on how to get to class.

I walk my schedule at least a dozen times until I can do it in my sleep—assuming that’s a sleep with no monsters.

Tia and I explore the town too, even going to the beach to hang out and drink the wine coolers I swiped from Uncle Finn’s fridge. I’ve had only one more nightmare during this gap between real life and school life, and even though Tia spent two hours holding my hand and talking me down, neither one of us brings it up on our excursions.

Yet another reason she’s fast becoming my bestie—she gets me. And that’s something I’ve never had before.

“I was starting to think you fell back asleep,” Tia says Wednesday morning as I slide into the squeaky wooden seat next to her for our first lecture in Intro to World Literature.

“Just moving slow. How was Renaissance Art?”

“So cool. Did you know that Renaissance beds had special symbols to prevent demons from entering dreams?”

“Yeah?” I didn’t know that—and now I’m wondering if I can track down one of those beds on eBay.

“Yup. And they believed the veil between worlds was thinnest during sleep,” she adds, giving me a nudge. “But we already knew that.”

I laugh. A real, genuine laugh about something scary related to a dream. How freaking amazing is that?

Then I settle back into my seat, a little smug, and even more glad that I made the jump and told her everything.

Well, everything except my suspicions about Chase. That, I’m still holding back.

I’m about to ask if she wants to order pizza tonight when the professor arrives and class begins…and three minutes later, it’s over.

At least, that’s how it seems to me. In reality, class took the full fifty minutes. I just slept through them. And, thankfully, I didn’t dream.

“Did I drool?” I ask Tia once we’re safely back in the commons. “Did the professor notice?”

“Nobody noticed, you didn’t drool, and I took amazing notes for you.” She hooks her arm around my shoulder, even though she has to rise up on her toes to do it. “Also, you didn’t call out last night, or if you did, it didn’t wake me. Was it rough?”

I shake my head. “I didn’t want to risk a dream, so I didn’t really sleep. Thus the unplanned class nap.”

She scowls but doesn’t lecture. All she says is, “Well, it’s the first week, and we’re freshmen. The professors don’t expect much from us yet.”

It’s the only class we have together today, so we part ways, the promise of pizza lingering between us. I check the time, curse, then force my still-groggy, sleep-deprived body to haul itself off to Abnormal Psych.

The walk across campus wakes me up, and I soak in the way the sunlight turns the Spanish moss into curtains of gold. All around, students bustle about with a first-day-of-school energy. I watch them go by, scanning faces, then realize I’m looking for golden eyes and a face I could spend hours studying.

I shake my head, telling myself I’m being foolish. But at the same time, a voice inside me tells me it’s not foolish at all. It may even be important.

I press my fingers to my temples as I hurry on, certain that if I weren’t so tired, I could wrestle my wild thoughts into control. Maybe tonight, I think. Maybe tonight I’ll sleep all the way through.

Except I don’t believe that at all.

When I reach the Science Center, my steps slow.

Having access to this class is amazing, so much so that I don’t even care that Uncle Finn used his pull with Professor Valdez to get me in. But it’s also a little bit terrifying. What if she asks if any of the students have sleep disorders? What if Finn already told her all of it?

The thought stops me, and I’m standing frozen in the middle of the Science Center hallway, students streaming around me, when someone bumps my shoulder. I turn automatically, an apology ready—and the words die on my lips.

Chase.