watch her run her fingers through her hair, straightening as much as she can the spot where Tyler’s chin had rested. The whole series of gestures are only her imaginings.
“I just jumped into Tyler’s dream,” I tell her. I give it a second before hitting her with the really shocking part. “We kissed.”
I don’t have to interpret her expression, no need, I am in her head. The implications of what I told her buzz through her mind. I feel her surprise, hesitate with her in her disbelief, and wobble through her reactions. Thankfully no jealous thoughts whirl in that silly quadroon’s head.
As soon as I have that thought, I realize I have wounded her unknowingly. All the times I had made references to race she’d endured a humiliation I never imagined. I’d hurt my best friend over and over, but she’d always overlooked the betrayal. I feel so ashamed.
“It doesn’t matter,” she says. “It’s all right.”
And the shame, acknowledged and forgiven, shrivels. The window on her emotions slams shut just as I feel her hold back something else. An evil thought—hatred for Michael and Hannah. She asks, “So . . . the kiss?”
I open up my mind and let her see the dream.
“Whoa,” she sighs, “or rather, wow. He can really kiss.”
“It was a dream!” I insist.
“But you were there,” she says, knowing that I was a willing participant. “Jessica, that’s really cool and all, but what about your surgery? It’s over. They took you to recovery. Do you feel, like, you know, you’re out of the coma?”
“I’m hanging in there.” My mind flits through the memory of the nurse adjusting the tubes and wires and all.
“Oh,” Rashanda answers my thoughts, “you still can’t breathe on your own?” I feel her body jerk with that same alarming fear. It spews me out and I’m back in the chair facing my two friends.
“Rashanda,” I whisper. Their bodies are slumped apart. Tyler is now slouched to his left, his head slanting against the armrest. Rashanda mirrors him to her right, sagging against a decorative pillow. “Rashanda, open your eyes.”
Her eyes gape wide and she sits up slowly, careful not to disturb Tyler.
“I can still see and hear you,” she whispers back.
I glance at Tyler. He isn’t moving. It’s safe to talk.
Tyler
Friday evening
Crap. It was just a dream. Man, if only it wasn’t.
Then I heard the whispers.
Maybe I was still dreaming. I kept my eyes pinched shut and listened.
Rashanda’s voice: “I can still see and hear you.”
Jessica’s voice: “Good. This is easier than getting in your head. I feel sort of like an intruder there.”
A sniff from Rashanda: “You’re like a mind reader. Or the opposite. You put thoughts into people’s heads. That kiss with Tyler was amazing.”
Wait! What? Crap. It was all I could do to keep still. Jessica had been with me? In my head? It wasn’t a dream?
“Shh,” Jessica hissed, “don’t wake him.”
“Maybe we should, you know, wake him slowly and see if he can see and hear you.”
“Why? What’s the point? I’d be so embarrassed, anyway. And what if we lose this connection and I disappear?”
Embarrassed? Why? I could hear her, though, and if I could hear her then maybe I could see her, too. I risked a sliver of space between the lids of my left eye. So hard not to tremble, so hard to keep the upper lid from shuddering.
I saw her. Not exactly solid, but not transparent either.
Unbelievable. I was afraid she’d disappear, too, but I couldn’t take my eye off her. I let my right eye relax into the same millimeter slit and studied her. Shapeless in that stupid hospital gown. Hair messy but framing that pretty face. Army green no-skid socks. Soft, soft voice. Head tipping away from me as she considered what Rashanda said next:
“We should try, Jessica, because maybe the more people who can see you, the stronger you’ll get, and you can get back into your body.”
“I agree.” I sat up slowly,
“I just jumped into Tyler’s dream,” I tell her. I give it a second before hitting her with the really shocking part. “We kissed.”
I don’t have to interpret her expression, no need, I am in her head. The implications of what I told her buzz through her mind. I feel her surprise, hesitate with her in her disbelief, and wobble through her reactions. Thankfully no jealous thoughts whirl in that silly quadroon’s head.
As soon as I have that thought, I realize I have wounded her unknowingly. All the times I had made references to race she’d endured a humiliation I never imagined. I’d hurt my best friend over and over, but she’d always overlooked the betrayal. I feel so ashamed.
“It doesn’t matter,” she says. “It’s all right.”
And the shame, acknowledged and forgiven, shrivels. The window on her emotions slams shut just as I feel her hold back something else. An evil thought—hatred for Michael and Hannah. She asks, “So . . . the kiss?”
I open up my mind and let her see the dream.
“Whoa,” she sighs, “or rather, wow. He can really kiss.”
“It was a dream!” I insist.
“But you were there,” she says, knowing that I was a willing participant. “Jessica, that’s really cool and all, but what about your surgery? It’s over. They took you to recovery. Do you feel, like, you know, you’re out of the coma?”
“I’m hanging in there.” My mind flits through the memory of the nurse adjusting the tubes and wires and all.
“Oh,” Rashanda answers my thoughts, “you still can’t breathe on your own?” I feel her body jerk with that same alarming fear. It spews me out and I’m back in the chair facing my two friends.
“Rashanda,” I whisper. Their bodies are slumped apart. Tyler is now slouched to his left, his head slanting against the armrest. Rashanda mirrors him to her right, sagging against a decorative pillow. “Rashanda, open your eyes.”
Her eyes gape wide and she sits up slowly, careful not to disturb Tyler.
“I can still see and hear you,” she whispers back.
I glance at Tyler. He isn’t moving. It’s safe to talk.
Tyler
Friday evening
Crap. It was just a dream. Man, if only it wasn’t.
Then I heard the whispers.
Maybe I was still dreaming. I kept my eyes pinched shut and listened.
Rashanda’s voice: “I can still see and hear you.”
Jessica’s voice: “Good. This is easier than getting in your head. I feel sort of like an intruder there.”
A sniff from Rashanda: “You’re like a mind reader. Or the opposite. You put thoughts into people’s heads. That kiss with Tyler was amazing.”
Wait! What? Crap. It was all I could do to keep still. Jessica had been with me? In my head? It wasn’t a dream?
“Shh,” Jessica hissed, “don’t wake him.”
“Maybe we should, you know, wake him slowly and see if he can see and hear you.”
“Why? What’s the point? I’d be so embarrassed, anyway. And what if we lose this connection and I disappear?”
Embarrassed? Why? I could hear her, though, and if I could hear her then maybe I could see her, too. I risked a sliver of space between the lids of my left eye. So hard not to tremble, so hard to keep the upper lid from shuddering.
I saw her. Not exactly solid, but not transparent either.
Unbelievable. I was afraid she’d disappear, too, but I couldn’t take my eye off her. I let my right eye relax into the same millimeter slit and studied her. Shapeless in that stupid hospital gown. Hair messy but framing that pretty face. Army green no-skid socks. Soft, soft voice. Head tipping away from me as she considered what Rashanda said next:
“We should try, Jessica, because maybe the more people who can see you, the stronger you’ll get, and you can get back into your body.”
“I agree.” I sat up slowly,
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