Lost by Francine Pascal

smiled at me, the first time we kissed, the first time we touched. But after a while, withnothing to look at but blank white walls, and with no one to see but those wrinkled, evil faces, I started to wonder if I’d made her up. If I’d imagined her as a way to stay sane. Or at the very least if I was building her up to be something she wasn’t. If I was imagining this perfection because it was all I had.
    But now it’s clear that I didn’t imagine a thing. She’s even more beautiful than I remembered.

The Dream Sam
    THE FIRST THING GAIA FELT WAS the water flicking against her eyelids. Splattering along her bare arms. Then a gust of wind whirled by, sending goose bumps over her chilled skin, and she pulled her arms around herself, nestling deeper into the arms that held her. She was outside. Why? How had she gotten—
    Wait a minute? Arms holding her?
    Gaia wrenched her eyes open with some effort, then blinked rapidly to clear the painful dryness that stung them. She shivered, and the arms tightened around her, holding her close. When she was finally able to keep her eyes open, finally able to see, she realized that she was actually still asleep. That all this rain and wind and cold and scratchiness was part of a very vivid dream. Because Sam Moon could not be holding her and smiling down at her. Sam Moon was long dead.
    â€œHey. You’re awake,” the dream Sam said. She felt his voice reverberate through his chest, beneath her cheek. It sent a pleasant shiver deep down into her body, and she smiled. Might as well enjoy this while she could. Before her subconscious took it all away.
    â€œHey,” Gaia replied. “You’re alive.” It was an unmomentous thing to say, but this was an unmomentous moment. It was a dream, after all. And it wasn’t as if she hadn’t dreamed of Sam before. She had. She’d hadnightmares almost every night since he died. This had to be another one. Any second now Josh would come along and shoot Sam in the head. And there would be nothing Gaia could do to stop it.
    â€œThat’s all I get?” Sam said with a smirk. He touched her face, wiping a spot of rain away from her nose. His fingertips felt so real. “I go MIA for months, and all I get is your dry irony? Not that I mind, exactly. I mean, I’d hate to think you’d changed.”
    Any second now Gaia was sure she’d wake up. Sam would poof away as always, and she’d wake up in her bed at Natasha’s to the annoying sound of her alarm clock bleeping.
    She turned slightly, and a stabbing jolt of pain sliced through her temple from just above her right eye. She squeezed her eyes shut, and her hand flew to the bruise, her heart pounding.
    That was real. That was real pain.
    She stared up at Sam, amazed. She hadn’t woken up when that jolt of pain had hit her. And if she hadn’t woken up, then that meant Sam really was alive. In a flash it all came rushing back to her—the note, the subway ride uptown, the fight, the man with two mismatched shoes that had turned out to be—
    â€œSam?” she said through the throbbing in her head.
    â€œThere she is,” Sam said. “Now you’re awake.”
    â€œYou’re here? But how—how did you—” Gaiabroke off as tears threatened. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck forcefully, awkwardly, with all the grace of a mule. He squeezed her back so hard that for a moment she felt like she was going to crack.
    He’s alive! He’s really here! Gaia’s mind screamed through the million swirling images and thoughts and emotions that whirled through her head and heart. She was holding Sam Moon in her arms. She hadn’t been responsible for his death because he wasn’t actually dead. He was right here. As real and alive as ever.
    She reached up and touched her fingers to his wet hair. Squeezed his back, his shoulders, then hugged him again, pressing her face