“Seriously, Caleb?”
“Huh?” He didn’t even glance up as he wiggled his fingers under a tiny scrap of fog that hovered just above his fingertips, watching it react to his movements with wide eyes.
“Do you really need to do this out right now? I mean, I need you right now, it’s my dream, but you’re completely ignoring me. Not that I’m the center of the universe or anything, but…yeah. Here, I’m supposed to be the center of the universe.” And I needed more than anything to talk with him right now.
He barely even glanced at me before saying, “I’m not ignoring you, but this place… I’m not so sure this is a regular dream.”
I crossed my arms in front of me. “Of course it is, and you’re studying that foggy cloud stuff instead of talking with me.” I paused. “Wow, I sound like your last girlfriend.”
“Naw. If you were anything like Jennifer, I wouldn’t be trying this hard to get out of a coma.” He grinned at me before staring back at the fog, absently scratching his neck.
“Oh,” I said, somewhat mollified. But some annoyance crept back as I watched Caleb reach his hand further and further into the fog, watching it shrink away from his arm.
Oblivious, he said, “You know how your foot starts tingling after it’s been numb? It’s not quite the real thing, but you start feeling again. That’s kind of what this place is like. Not the real thing, but getting close to it. Maybe it’s kind of a transition stage to wakefulness.” His gaze flicked briefly back to mine, eyes bright with excitement. “If I keep going—push past whatever fog this is—I just might be able to get out of this coma.” When his hand didn’t reach any sort of obstacle, he drew it back, satisfied.
“Okay, that’s a great theory and all, but let’s just assume this really is another dream, and it’s the closest thing I’m gonna get to actually talking with you. Which makes sense because dreams help you process things, and right now, I’m really needing help in the whole processing department.”
Caleb tossed me a smile over his shoulder. “But if I’m right, I’ll be awake soon, and then we can process to your heart’s content.”
“Oh, come on.” My hands ended up on my hips like some kind of scolding grandma, but I was too annoyed to care. “I seriously need to talk. Can’t you just stop being so—so you for a second? Stop with the questions and be a good dream-Caleb before something wakes me up.”
“But if I’m right, I have no idea if I’ll transition to reality regardless of what I do or if I have a finite time in which to push myself through this place. Honestly, we’re wasting time arguing.”
I glared at him. “I couldn’t have said it better—that last part, anyway.”
He gave me a teensy-weensy kind-of apologetic smile. “Just let me at least try?”
That smile sucked. “Fine.”
He mussed my hair and I slapped his hand away before he ran headlong into the fog—and slammed into it hard enough to bounce back a couple of feet, landing hard on his butt.
We looked at each other in stunned silence. “Well. First point goes to dream physics?” I said.
“What the…” Caleb scrambled up and stalked toward the invisible wall, the fog shifting away from him, before he stopped right in his tracks about ten feet away from me. He looked back at me, his eyes narrowing,
Caleb strode toward me. “I need you to move,” he said as he pushed me a few feet back. “Riiiight there. And stop rolling your eyes.”
He turned to face the fog that had drifted along with us, and then he jogged away from me until he slammed into the invisible barrier. It must have moved along with us because it was still only about ten feet away from me.
“Huh,” I said.
He started laughing. “‘Huh’ is right.”
He all but bounced over to me, grabbed my arm, and pulled me toward the wall.
“No, no you don’t!” I said, sweeping his hand off my arm. “Your theory’s a bust. Now it’s time to talk.”
“Oh, come on, Kella.”
I folded my arms, glaring at him.
“Okay, okay, fine, I get your point.” Caleb sighed. “Just… let’s do this one little thing and you’ll have my complete, undivided attention.”
I narrowed my eyes into little slits. “Or?”
Caleb rolled his eyes. “Or what?”
“I don’t know, pick some stupid dream thing that’ll happen to you. An anvil falls on your head or you’ll dance with an elephant in a tutu.”
“I don’t have any control over any of this. These dreams—the ones in this place—aren’t like any of the others I’ve had.”
I raised a brow. “That’s because it’s not your dream, genius. It’s mine.”
Caleb stilled and looked at me for a long moment.
“I think you may be onto something there. This space—it seems centered around you, so it makes sense that—”
“No!” I waved a finger in his face. “No theories. You. Me. Dream conversation right now!”
“Okay, okay. Dream conversation.” He looked over his shoulder at the invisible dream barrier. “Go.”
I ground my teeth. “Fine, let’s go. But after we slam into the wall, I get a long, long hug and you have to look at me the entire time we’re talking. Got it?”
“Got it,” he said, grinning at me. I rolled my eyes but let him pull me along.
We walked. And walked. And walked. Nothing stopped us. Nothing changed. The fog seemed to follow us around forever
Caleb stopped.
“Finally. Okay, my turn. So, someone killed—”
He held up a hand. “Hold on one second. And—and just…” He stepped away from me, an apologetic smile on his
