When she hands it to me, I google Casper’s dad’s name and am able to find their address. I’m familiar with the area since it’s around my work.
“I have to. Cherry, please. Let me go.”
“What’s gotten into you?” she shouts as the halls clears.
She searches my eyes, but I can’t explain it to her. She won’t understand. I need to see if Casper is hurt. “I’ll call you later, I promise.”
Cherry looks at me like I am seriously out of my mind, which I probably am. How am I even going to get inside Casper’s house? I drive like a lunatic on the way to his house, except, it then occurs to me that I have no idea where he lives.
I arrive at, what I expected, a giant mansion with a driveway lined with tall bricks. Not my first choice in houses, but hey, to each their own. As soon as my car is in park, I yank the keys from the ignition and flee the car. I rush up to the door and pound on it, but no one answers. I’m sure there’s an alarm system somewhere. Hoping that the door is unlocked, I turn the knob and like something out of a movie, the knob turns, and the door opens. Hesitantly, I cross the threshold and call out Casper’s name. When I get no reply, I close the door and run upstairs, checking each of the several rooms. I get to one and find him sprawled out on the floor wearing only boxers, as if he’d fallen from the high sleigh bed.
“Casper,” I yell. I shake him. “Casper!”
He finally stirs awake.
When he opens his eyes, he gazes at me with love and relief. “Megan.” My heart lurches forward. For one fleeting moment, the way he says my name, I want to curl myself into his arms, breathe him in, and feel safe.
But his eyes widen with fear and I realize this isn’t a dream. “What the hell are you doing here?” Casper scrambles away from me.
“I-I had to check on you.” I stand, backing myself against the wall away from him.
“What?” He gets to his feet as I grip the chair rail on the wall behind me. He seems much taller than ever before and my eyes sweep across his flawless smooth chest.
I imagine running my fingers down the center. I hope he can’t hear the erratic beating of my heart. It’s throbbing in my ears and my throat closes.
“Check on me for what?” he demands.
I clear my throat. “You didn’t show up for school today and I panicked.” Okay, now I’m sure he thinks I’m seriously crazy. I’m acting as if I have the biggest obsession over him. Great. “I had to come see if you were okay. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
He narrows his eyes. “What are you doing to me?” His voice reverberates in the room, making me jump slightly. “What is this game you’re playing?”
That brings me up short. “Game? What are you talking about? I should ask the same about you,” I quip.
“Get away from me, you freak. I don’t know what you’ve done to me. You’re one of those freaky voodoo people or whatever aren’t you? Putting spells on people.”
My jaw literally drops and I’m not sure why there’s a pain in my stomach, as if his words hurt me. “I—”
“You’re the one making me think of you all the time, aren’t you? Making me have these crazy dreams. Get out of my house or I’ll call the police.”
Shock doesn’t even describe how I feel. Okay, maybe it does, but a more intensified version. Without a word, I leave the weird scene. I don’t know what I expected to happen, but not that. I wonder how long it will take the rumor mill to start that I’m some voodoo witch putting spells on people. Does he really believe that, though?
If he really did write that letter, why did he have such a strong reaction to my coming over and waking him? Other than freaking him out, apparently. All I know is that I needed to see him. The dream felt so incredibly real. Too real.
Once I get back in my car, I feel completely humiliated. What is wrong with me? Running to some guy’s house to see if he’s okay after having a dream. Who does that? He mentioned having crazy dreams. Are they as insane as mine?
I really need to chill out and stop focusing on these stupid dreams.
I decide to go back to school. The last thing I need is someone calling my mom telling her I skipped. I arrive meeting Vincent in the office.
“Y’know, I’m starting to feel like you’re only using me for my late passes.” He smiles as his cheeks redden.
His infectious, warm smile already makes me feel better that I can’t help but smile back. “I would never.”
“Why are we late today?”
“Oh. You know. Slept late.”
His eyebrows furrow. “I saw you this morning before class. Or I thought I did.”
“Oh. That’s my evil twin.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “You’re a very strange girl.” He hands me the pink late slip.
“I know. Thanks.”
“So, you’re off your grounding, right?”
“Oh, about that. Can I get a copy of my late pass from the other day? If I don’t show my parents, they’ll ground me again.”
He looks at me like he’s upset or something and my cheeks warm. “Why are they like that?”
I shrug. “My stepdad doesn’t like me.”
He writes something on a pad, tears it off, and hands it to me. “Use that. If they call, we have the records here in the system.”
“Thanks.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why were you looking for a writing sample of Casper’s the other
