Page 73 of In Somnis

My purse is slung over my shoulder, and I have a fuzzy yellow blanket tucked under one arm, two matching pillows cradled against me, and an insulated tumbler covered in tiny gold stars in my hand because I have zero self-control when it comes to cute stuff.

I’m all for soft things and poor financial decisions.

Hugging the pillows tighter against myself, I start walking home. The sky has darkened even more while I was inside, the clouds now sinking lower and looking heavier, as if they’re pressing down on the town. The wind has picked up, too, and suddenly my hair is everywhere, whipped across my face, and sticking to my lipstick.

“Ugh, here we go again,” I mutter, trying to blow it away.

I tuck my chin down and walk faster, and when I reach the crosswalk where I met Jasper yesterday, I smile, hair still clinging to my lips as I think of my Punk Fairy. Maybe it’s weird to befriend a guy half my age, but after getting a glimpse into his life, I’m confident he could use a little looking after, and God knows I miss having someone to give that to.

Maybe I could bake him something to take with him to school on Monday.

The crosswalk sign shows a red “X,” and I eye the crossing button, but my arms are too full to press it. I shift the pillows higher against my chest, but then the blanket slides, and my purse slips. I try to re-hook my purse, but it only makes the tumbler bump my wrist and nearly go flying.

“Okay, hold on,” I grumble at my arms.

I attempt to shuffle everything into a new, somehow worse configuration, only to confirm that, yep, I still can’t reach the button.

The “X” across the street glows patiently, ready to stay like that all day. My shoulders start aching, and the sky looks as though it’s thinking about doing something dramatic.

Ugh.

I need to hurry if I want to take a shower and maybe take a nap before heading to my first shift. Glancing down the empty street both ways, I step off the curb, but I only make it halfway across before the sky absolutely loses its mind. Rain crashes down in a full-on downpour, sheets of water slamming into the pavement so hard it feels personal. Within seconds, my sweater is soaked through, the fuzzy blanket darkening in ugly splotches.

“Oh no,” I gasp, slowing instinctively as the cold soaks through.

Why didn’t I buy an umbrella?

Mine is in the storage unit in Boston, like the rest of my life.

As I twist around with thoughts of sprinting back to the shop to buy one, light explodes to my side, bright enough to erase the rain, and I whip my head toward it.

Headlights.

Oh shit.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Lennon

“Watch out for the light.”

My body reacts to the echo of Seraphine’s words before my brain can, and I jerk backward, but not fast enough. The car clips my thigh hard enough to spin me off balance, and I go down with a startled cry, pain tearing through my side as I hit the ground.

My tumbler skids across the road with a hollow, metallic clang as tires scream, but the rain continues to pound down as I lie there, breath knocked out of me.

This feels so familiar, but I know I’m not dreaming.

It hurts too much.

For a few disorienting seconds, my body takes over completely.

Pain becomes a checklist.

Can I breathe? Yes.

Can I move my fingers? Mostly.

Am I bleeding enough to be scared? Don’t know yet.