The Seeker: Dreamer Part 3

The others were amenable and I was about to make up an excuse for Jack and myself when I noticed Tara mouthing 'pretty please' at me. I sighed and looked at Jack, raising my eyebrows. "So how about it? Any chance you're free tonight?" I was praying he'd say no.

He looked at me, completely unenthused, but also having seen Tara's plea. "Yeah, I guess so. I get off work at 6."

"Perfect!" exclaimed Dustin, checking times on his phone. "There are several movies that start at 6:30. We'll all meet by the ticket booth, okay?" We all nodded with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

"Veronica, you want to come with us?" I asked hesitantly.

She shook her head. "Thanks, but I don't think I'll feel up to going out tonight."

Jack walked me to my next cla.s.s, pulling me into a quieter side hall. He backed me up against some lockers and swooped in for a good kiss. We were trying our best to make up for all the kisses we had missed while I was in Ireland.

"I think you're going to owe me big time for putting up with that French douche bag tonight," he said as he nibbled his way along my jaw to my ear, which he knew pretty much rendered me incoherent.

"Well, you can name your price. I promise to make good on my debt," I whispered with a delicious s.h.i.+ver. Jack sure can kiss. He laughed and sent me off to my next cla.s.s with a light swat on my rear end.

CHAPTER FIVE.

"The pattern is closely woven."

Madeleine L'Engle We ended up watching the newest Marvel comic book story to be made into a movie. I usually love this kind of movie, but tonight I was too distracted by the teen drama surrounding me. Jack apparently thought it was a great idea to invite Mat to come along on our group date and Mat thought it would be a great idea to bring a date.

"I didn't invite him, querida," Jack said as the previews were ending. "I told you, he invited himself. He just showed up here with that girl."

I sat stewing in my seat, refusing to hold his hand. I had been cranky since Mat and his date showed up and was taking it out on Jack. We were surrounded by people dedicated to outdoing each other with their flirting and cute-couple behavior. On one side were Tara and Remy, feeding each other popcorn and giggling. On the other side was Mat and his girl-I think he introduced her as Jeanette or Lynette-drinking from the same soda cup at the same time with twin straws. Whenever Tara did something cute with Remy, Mat would counter with something equally nauseating with his date. I was thoroughly disgusted and sat with my arms crossed, staring grumpily at the screen. Travis and Dustin, however, sat holding hands. obviously enjoying the movie, oblivious to the tension around them. It must be nice. Why should I care what Tara did? Why did it bother me so much? And why was I wasting time worrying about it when I could be holding hands with my boyfriend? I looked over at Jack; he was slumped in his seat, chin in hand, pretending to watch the movie. This was no more his fault than mine; neither of us had wanted to be part of this awful group date. There was no logical reason for me to take it out on him. I sighed and scooted closer to him, reaching out to take his hand. "I'm sorry."

He sat up and interlaced his fingers with mine. "Yeah, me too." Both couples were still at it: flirting, giggling, and other barf-inducing behavior. "Come on," Jack said as he gathered up our popcorn and soda. I followed him as he chose new seats in the top row of the theater, far enough away to not have to deal with the ridiculous teen drama happening down in the front.

"You're pretty smart, you know that?" I said as I leaned closer to kiss his cheek, staying to run my lips right under his jaw line.

"Behave yourself, minx," he said, holding my face captive in his hands. He looked into my eyes for a moment. "Aw, screw it." He leaned back in to kiss me deeply, his tongue seeking mine. We let ourselves enjoy it for a few minutes, sinking into the kiss, before finally breaking apart, panting slightly. "We should fight more often," Jack said huskily.

I couldn't even speak, so I simply nodded.

Later, as we sat in a back corner of the Elephant Bar, across the street from the movie theater, the teenage drama show continued. It was excruciatingly clear to most of us at the table that Mat was simply trying to make Tara jealous and had no feelings at all for Jeanette/Lynette. Well, maybe it wasn't clear to her, since she seemed to be lapping up all the attention from Mat, who was at his most charming tonight. I watched Remy carefully to see what his reaction would be, if he was picking up on the underlying currents. He met my gaze, gave me an amused smirk, and even had the audacity to wink. This guy confused me. Was he really interested in Tara? Had he really hit on me this morning and then by lunchtime switched to my best friend? And why had I felt such a strong compulsion to not let him touch me? I got the distinct impression, psychic or not, there was much more to Monsieur Remy Giles than met the eye, and I was determined to figure out what it was.

"So, where did you two disappear to during the movie, huh?" Tara took a break from flirting to ask Jack and me.

I squeezed Jack's hand under the table. "Oh, I didn't like sitting so close to the screen."

The others all either smirked or snickered. Tara laughed outright. "Whatever. Liar. You always want to sit right in the front. Did you guys even watch the movie? Or did you make out the whole time?'

Jack laughed and put his arm around me, hugging me close, and kissing my hair. "Yeah, well I still haven't made up for all the time I missed while she was in Ireland."

"Why were you in Ireland?" Remy asked, accompanied by a rather sharp look.

I met his stare for a moment. "Oh, you know. Just a vacation." I didn't look away from him, although I could feel Jack looking between the two of us, confused.

"Where did you go? Dublin?" he asked, continuing our staring contest.

"No. Galway." I would not be the first to blink.

"It's a beautiful city, no?" He stared for what seemed like several minutes, but was probably shorter. Finally, he gave me another one of those d.a.m.ned smirks and looked away, picking up Tara's hand and turning it over to kiss her wrist. G.o.d, I really did not like this guy.

"What the h.e.l.l?" Jack whispered in my ear.

"Later," I whispered back.

Before Jack dropped me off later, I told him about my weird reaction to Remy in the counselor's office when I felt like I should absolutely not let him touch me.

"Yeah, that's weird," he agreed. "And at dinner he asked why you were in Ireland. It was kind of strange, you know? I mean, most people would ask about where you went, what you did, stuff like that. This French dude just asks 'why' in a creepy way. And what was with the staring contest?"

"I don't know. I do know he creeps me out. I don't trust him and I don't like how he's suddenly all over Tara. He was. .h.i.tting on me and then all of a sudden he switches to Tara?"

"Hey, you're not jealous, are you?" He kissed my neck, which usually puts a hold on our conversations.

"Hmm, no. I have no need of pretentious French euro trash when I have you, Jack."

"I don't know," he teased. "Maybe the whole exotic foreigner thing turns you on. He could probably whisper to you in French. Don't girls like that?"

"Well, you can whisper to me in Spanish. Why don't we see if it turns me on?"

He obliged, alternating whispers with nibbles on my earlobe.

"Yeah. That'll do the trick." I sighed and pulled his face to mine and kissed him in earnest.

I was about halfway through A Ring of Endless Light. I'm usually a faster reader, but I hadn't had a lot of time to read since I got back. Plus, due to my nightly nightmares, I was so sleepy I wasn't able to read more than a few paragraphs before I fell asleep. The girl in the novel, Vicky, had three guys after her and she was able to communicate telepathically with dolphins, which was very cool. One of the guys, Zack, was deeply troubled and selfish, but they had great chemistry. The guy who introduced her to the dolphins, Adam, reminded me a lot of Jack and I was rooting for them to get together. It was much more than simply a romance, however. She was dealing with her grandfather's impending death and the recent death of a family friend, the father of the third guy. I really liked how she wrote poetry, which I, like every other teenage girl, had tried when I was in one of my more angsty, melodramatic phases. Let's just say I suck at poetry. It was comforting, somehow, to read about how this girl was trying to come to terms with all the c.r.a.p in her life. It made me hopeful I could do the same.

I fell asleep and, once again, found myself in the midst of the nightmare.

I fought my way to consciousness, my head still fuzzy. Where was I? I tried to remember what had happened, but I couldn't focus. I tried to move and discovered my hands were bound. My heart pounded in terror. I tried to scream, but I was gagged. I was having such a hard time concentrating. Had I been drugged? The vibrations and bouncing reminded me I was in a vehicle. Was I in the trunk? No, it seemed more like I was on the floor of a backseat. The car turned and I bounced painfully. Were we on a dirt road? The b.u.mping and bouncing went on for what felt like hours. Then the vehicle came to a stop.

I woke with a choked scream, sitting up in bed, my heart pounding, and I was covered in sweat. The nightmare was the same as always, but it had never gone on for so long; I always woke while the vehicle was still moving. I was absolutely terrified of what I would learn the next time I had the dream. It was several hours before I was calm enough to get to sleep.

I fell asleep in physics the next day. Mr. Chiszowski was showing us a film about electric cars, and the combination of a dark room and my sleepless night equaled lights out for me. I awoke to Jack softly rubbing my back and whispering in my ear, "Wake up, sweetheart. The movie's over and Mr. Chiszowski is about to notice you slept through it."

I reluctantly sat up. "I think I drooled. I must disgust you," I said while wiping my mouth. I had been deeply asleep, not an easy task while sitting at a lab table.

"Nah, it was cute," Jack said.

On the way to lunch, after I finished putting away my morning books, Jack turned me around with my back to my locker. "Why are you so tired lately, querida? Are you working a graveyard s.h.i.+ft I don't know about?" His concerned look belied the light teasing.

I laughed briefly and hugged him. "No. I'm not sleeping well. I'm, uh, well, I'm having a recurring nightmare and it's keeping me awake. It sucks. I'm so tired."

"Well, with all the s.h.i.+t you went through last semester, it's no wonder. What's the dream about?"

I sighed. "I keep dreaming about being kidnapped. It's probably leftover stress, but the dream goes a little bit farther each night, which stresses me out even more."

He pulled back to look in my eyes. "Can your grandmother give you a prescription for some sleeping pills or something? I'm starting to get worried, Ally."

I pulled away and took his hand, walking toward the cafeteria. "She probably could, but I haven't talked to her or my mom about it yet." I saw he was about to protest, so I preempted him, saying, "I will, I promise. If the dreams don't go away by the end of the week I'll talk to her. You worry too much. Hey, your birthday is this weekend," I changed the subject. "What does Trina have planned? Can I steal you for a night?"

"Sure. Let me talk to Trina. She probably wants to have a dinner. I'm going to see if I can get her to minimize the occasion. I don't want her to fuss."

"Good luck with that. She's a born fusser."

"All right, question number 8," Tara said. We were lounging in her room later in the evening as she administered the latest Cosmo quiz, 'What Kind of s.e.xy Are You?' "For the ultimate holiday present, you'd give your guy: a) Tasteful nude photos of yourself, b) Surfing/golfing/skydiving lessons, or c) A cla.s.sic silver watch?"

"Hmm. Well, if it has to be tasteful nude photos, I'm gonna have to go with surfing lessons. Those will come in so handy here in Albuquerque," I answered.

"B then," she said, oblivious to my sarcasm. "Next question: Fill in the blank: If I were reincarnated as a bra, I'd be...a) plain white cotton with a T-back, b) a red satin, cleavage-maximizing, diamond-encrusted bustier, or c) pale pink lace with a tiny bow?"

"Gosh, I don't want to be boring, but I have no cleavage to maximize and those diamonds sound itchy. Let's go with the pink bow."

"C it is. Last question. Your favorite s.e.x pose is: a) you on top, frontward, b) you on top, backward, or c) him on top. You like the feeling of being enveloped?"

"This got uncomfortable," I said, flus.h.i.+ng.

"Don't be a prude." She tapped her pen on the magazine. "I'm waiting."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm trying to figure out if 'frontward' is really a word. In lieu of actual experience with any poses, I'll say c."

"Great. Let me tally your results." I waited while she tallied and counted. "Okay, you are 'fun-lovin' s.e.xy.' You're the quintessential natural-yet-naughty chick," she read. "What men find so appealing about you is that you're rough-and-tumble yet tender. He has his best friend whom he can still open doors for and have a terrific s.e.x life with. Wow, sounds great, huh? You're really lucky, you know?"

I caught a rare glimpse of her vulnerable side as she looked out the window for a moment. "Hey, it's a dumb quiz. It doesn't mean anything," I said as I put my arm around her shoulder.

She chuckled without any mirth at all. "Oh, I know. It's not that. It's seeing you with Jack, so happy. I mean, I'm not jealous...okay maybe a little." She laughed and laid her head on my shoulder. "I wish I had something like that too."

"Hey, you will. I mean, you've got two guys after you right now. I'm pretty sure you could have your pick of either of them."

"Ha. I mean Remy is fun and all, but I don't think it will ever go anywhere. Even if it did, he lives in freaking France."

"What about Mat? He lives right here in good ol' Albuquerque."

"Forget it. He's not my type. Did you see the floozy he brought to the movies? Her eyebrows were painted on! And she was hanging all over him." She tried to appear casual, putting the magazine back on her desk and pretending to straighten up the items on top.

"Oh, and you weren't hanging all over Remy?"

"Ouch. h.e.l.lo pot, I'm kettle. You weren't exactly 'hands off' with Jack, you know. Didn't you two sneak off to make out?"

"Uh, yeah, but we're in a stable relations.h.i.+p. We weren't on a first date, you s.l.u.t," I teased.

She laughed. "Remy's fun, but that's it. I was mostly trying to make Mat mad. I can't believe he showed up like that! What a jerk!"

"Hey, go easy on him. He's not only Jack's cousin; they're best friends. I'd like us all to be able to get along. I don't want awkwardness, okay?" I grabbed her arm and made her look at me.

"But he's so...ugh!"

I looked at her, eyebrows raised.

She sighed in disgust. "Fine. I'll play nice. But I don't like him!"

"Careful, chica. You might be protesting a bit too much."

"Shut up! Are you staying the night? We haven't had a sleepover in ages," she wheedled.

"Sure, but I may not be much fun. I'll probably crash way early. I'm so tired, Tara." I was holding back a yawn.

"Hey, you still having those nightmares?" I had told only Tara and Jack about the horrible dreams. I nodded.

"You don't think these dreams are, like, psychic, do you? You know, part of your powers?"

I hadn't thought of this, but now I sat on her bed, pondering the possibility. I didn't know if dreams could be part of my...repertoire? But I suppose they could. "I don't know. I've been a.s.suming they were stress related, but now I'm not so sure. These dreams don't feel like any of my future visions, so I really hope they're not a warning I'm about to be kidnapped." I s.h.i.+vered.

Tara sat down next to me. "Hey, I'm sure that's not going to happen. Don't worry. You're probably right and they're simply stress dreams. I've got a great idea-why don't you start focusing on having s.e.x dreams instead of stress dreams? Sounds like a lot more fun to me."

I laughed. "Yeah, it does. I'll work on it."

CHAPTER SIX.

"Contending with the fretful elements; Bids the wind blow the earth into the sea, Or swell the curled waters 'bove the main, That things might change or cease."

Shakespeare King Lear (3.1.4) Trina couldn't be stopped. She definitely fussed for Jack's birthday, preparing a huge spread of food and inviting a slew of relatives who all brought food as well. In the Jimenez family, special occasions, or any reasonable facsimile thereof, meant family-lots of family. All of Manny and Trina's kids were there: Mat, of course; Sh.e.l.ly and her husband, Don, along with their young son, Nathan; Mat's oldest brother, Paul, and his wife, Elise; their kids, Josue, Becky, and Roberto; and his next older brother, Jason, with his fiancee, Jasmine. His grandparents and several aunts and uncles, along with at least ten other cousins were also there. It was very much like his post-probation party, but with presents. Trina baked a giant cake with nineteen candles, which Mat had secretly swapped out for trick candles.

"Oh, Mat!" she cried, exasperated, while everyone was laughing. "When will you grow up?" She lightly smacked the back of his head. "Get these candles out so I can cut the cake!"

As Jack finished opening his presents, Sh.e.l.ly stood up to get everyone's attention. "Jack, sweetie, I know this is your birthday, and I don't want to take away any of your glory." Jack rolled his eyes. "But I can't pa.s.s up the chance to tell so much of our family at one time," she paused for effect, looking around at everyone. "Little Nathan is going to be a big brother!"