Reality Dreamers Read online

  “Yeah, you’re hilarious, Ethan. A real comedian.” I tried to step around them, but Brock stood in my way.

  I looked up at his face, so high above me, and tried to keep the panic out of my voice. “Hey, Ethan.” I didn’t take my eyes off Brock. “I think your friend here didn’t pick up on the fact that I want to leave.”

  “Oh, I think he did.”

  I glanced at Ethan, trying to decide just how much danger I was in. But before I could focus on Ethan’s face, something solid and very, very hard hit the back of my head.

  My vision blacked out for a few seconds and my head spun dizzyingly. When I could see again, I was on the ground and Ethan and his thugs were laughing like they’d just seen a world-class show.

  I wanted to punch Brock’s stupid face—actually, I wanted to hit them all—but I couldn’t move.

  A rushing in my ears quickly drowned out their laughter, and my eyes ached with the brightness of the sun filtering through the trees above me. I closed my eyes to block out the light and stop the spinning of my head.

  The next thing I knew, I was being shouted at.

  “Jonas!”

  I struggled to open my eyes, but they were so heavy.

  “Jonas!” The voice was more emphatic this time, less fearful.

  I was aware of the sun on my skin now, of the hard ground beneath me. And I was very aware of the pain at the base of my skull. I considered slipping back out of consciousness just to escape the pain, but then I realized I recognized the voice above me.

  I cracked one eye open and squinted into the light.

  “Ellie?”

  My sister let out a great exhale. “Oh gosh, Jonas! I thought you were dead!”

  I pulled my other eye open and blinked in the bright afternoon light. Ellie’s face swam before my eyes, and I tried to steady the image.

  “What happened?” I reached up to touch the swelling lump at the back of my head and winced.

  “How should I know?” she grumbled. I guess she was over her worry for me. “I was waiting for you by the door, but you never came. I decided you must have fallen asleep or something, so I came to wake you up. But then I saw the blood, and you weren’t moving . . .” Her voice trailed off and her face fell.

  I sat up gingerly. “I’m okay, Ellie.” I forced a smile when she looked over at me, and she nodded slowly.

  I shook my head, hoping to clear it, but it only made me more dizzy. “It was Ethan and his goons.”

  I dropped my hand into my lap and saw the blood on my fingers. I glanced down at the ground. Ellie had been right about the blood. It was spread out on the ground where my head had been, and I was sure it was in my hair, too.

  Ellie’s voice was small. “You need to tell someone.”

  “No. That will only make things worse.”

  She didn’t look convinced.

  I pressed my lips together. “Ethan is a jerk. He’s mean to everyone. But he won’t come back for a while if I just let this go. That’s the way he is. He only comes back if you ask for it.”

  Ellie still looked worried, but I didn’t have time to convince her any better. If what Ellie said was true, I hadn’t missed too much of school. Hopefully, I could convince Instructor Lokina I’d just been in the bathroom. She knew I was a good student, and I hoped that would get me off the hook this time.

  “We have to get to class.” I pulled myself to my feet. I still felt dizzy but I stayed upright, so I figured I could make it back to the schoolhouse.

  I hurried to shift some nearby leaves and effectively covered up the blood on the ground. A quick wash in the bathroom would take care of the blood on my skin, and then no one would ever know.

  Ellie stood up too, but she was frowning. “You’re going to tell Mom and Dad, right?”

  “What? No! Of course I’m not telling Mom and Dad. Can you imagine how they would freak out? No. You and me are the only ones who can know.”

  Her lower lip jutted out into a pout. “And Ethan.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Well, yeah. But Ethan isn’t going to tell anyone.”

  “You mean, you want me to lie ?” Her eyes were wide with disbelief.

  “Yeah—I mean, no.” I blew out my breath in frustration. “Look, Ellie. It’s not really a lie. Just don’t bring it up to anyone, okay?”

  “What if Mom asks me if you got beat up? What do I say then?”

  I snorted. “She’s not going to ask.”

  “But what if she does?”

  My hands clenched at my sides and I fought the urge to yell. “If Mom comes up to you randomly and says ‘Hey Ellie, did Jonas get beat up at school today?’ then you can tell her.”

  Ellie frowned, deep in thought. “What if she says ‘Hey Ellianna, did Jonas get—’”

  “I don’t care what she calls you! If she says ‘hey you with the hair,’ you can tell her! Just don’t bring it up, okay?”

  Ellie looked annoyed. Rather than answering, she flipped her long brown braids at me and marched back toward the school.

  I watched her go, thinking of all the terrible things I would do to her and her dolls if she told anyone.

  When the coast was clear I ran toward the school, praying no one would see me. And someone must have been listening to my plea, because I made it safely to the bathroom without running into anyone.

  I locked the door behind me (after making sure I was alone), and then turned toward the mirror on the wall. Obviously I couldn’t see the back of my head, but I could see enough to know Brock had caused quite a bit of damage.

  Wincing constantly, I hurried to wash the blood from my hair and from the skin at the back of my neck.

  I took one last look in the mirror and hoped there weren’t any spots I’d missed. Then I hurried to class. I must’ve already missed at least half of it, I was sure, and I worried my instructor wouldn’t be as forgiving as I’d first hoped.

  I took a breath before stepping into the classroom. The moment the door opened, every eye turned toward me.

  Instructor Lokina stood at the front of the long classroom, a book in her hand and a look of surprise on her face. The surprise melted into disapproval almost immediately.

  “Jonas.” Her usually-gentle voice was stern.

  I inwardly winced.

  “How nice of you to join us.”

  Kids all around the room sniggered behind their hands as she frowned severely at me. “I assume you were doing something very important?” She obviously wanted an explanation. I’d hoped to make my excuse in private, but I knew she wasn’t going to let me off the hook.

  My face burned and I dropped my eyes from her disapproving face. “I . . . I was in the bathroom.”

  The class shimmered with chuckles and giggles, and I wished for a moment I was back on the bloody ground in the forest. At least there I wouldn’t be able to hear the laughs and whispers.

  Instructor Lokina’s expression remained stern. “I see. Well, if you’re quite done, then I think you ought to take your seat.”

  I wished I was invisible.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I scurried to my seat near the back of the room. I dropped into my chair and let my head fall into my hands.

  Instructor Lokina picked up her lecture where she had left off—she was saying something about a lark, but I couldn’t focus on her words. Between the pain throbbing in my head, the humiliation surging through my veins, and the exhaustion weighing down my body, I had no hope of concentrating on today’s class.

  I could not have been more relieved to hear the chime at the end of classes later that day, and I was one of the first students out of the schoolhouse. I didn’t bother to wait for Ellie—after all, she was going to a party, wasn’t she?

  I walked home in silence. A few people called to me from their yards and I waved halfheartedly, but they only knew me as “Dylan’s boy,” or “Gemma’s son,” so I didn’t bother to stop and talk to them.

  When I got home, Mom was gone and Dad was still at work, and I took advantage of the rare
solitude and laid down on my bed. I let my pounding head rest and allowed my stinging eyes to close. The relief I felt was instantaneous, and I had no other desire than to stay right there for the rest of the day.

  I tried not to think what Mom and Dad would do if they found out about what had happened at school. I was sure, aside from lecturing me for not telling anyone, they would call Ethan’s parents—and probably Brock’s and Austin’s, too. Those jerks didn’t need another reason to beat me up.

  No, everything would be better if they just never found out.

  Chapter 3

  My head throbs with a painful headache and my back is sore. I shift my weight, trying to find a better position on the rough surface. That’s when I realize I’m not in bed.

  I pull my eyes open and glance around in the faint light. I’m somewhere dim, but I think it must be light outside. I try to remember how I came to be here.

  It doesn’t take long to decide I’m in a cave. The cave is so shadowy I can’t see anything beyond myself. I don’t think anyone else is here.

  “Hello?” My voice echoes around the cave; it’s much bigger than I first thought.

  No one answers me.

  I don’t know what to do. My head is aching and I can barely see. I wonder if I’m far from home. Maybe I should go to the cave’s entrance and see if I can recognize anything outside.

  I roll to my feet and try not to be distracted by my pounding head. But before I can take a step, I hear a sound.

  I think something is behind me.

  * * *

  I jolted awake with a gasp and sat up. I looked around me quickly, but I was alone in my familiar bedroom. I wondered what’d woken me. As if in answer, I heard someone moving around in the kitchen.

  I didn’t want to be found in bed in the middle of the day, so I got up. Trying to ignore the ache in my head, I went to find out who was home.

  It was Mom. She’d gone out to visit Ms. Erikson, a friend who’d been sick for a long time. I knew Mom was worried about her, but the doctors repeatedly assured her Ms. Erikson would be just fine.

  Mom smiled when she saw me. “Hi, Jonas. How was your day?”

  I shrugged. “Fine.” Hopefully she wouldn’t be able to detect the pain in my voice. “How about yours?”

  She blew out her breath, her smile turning weary. “It’s been long, but good. Ms. Erikson says she’s feeling much better, and the doctors expect her to be back to normal in a week or so.”

  “That’s good.” I hoped I sounded genuine. I had nothing against Ms. Erikson, but I didn’t really know her, so when Mom talked about her I felt like she was just a character from a book or something, not a real person.

  I think Mom understood, because her smile brightened. “Do you want to help with dinner?”

  “Sure.” I didn’t have anything better to do.

  Cooking with Mom was relaxing. She didn’t make a big deal out of having everything perfect, and she was easy to talk to. We didn’t talk about anything important —just silly things, like why leaves fall in autumn, and why birds prefer to fly instead of walk. It was dumb, but I had fun.

  By the time Dad got home, we were just getting ready to put the meat and vegetable pie in the oven.

  Dad grinned and shrugged out of his jacket. “Oh, something smells good!” He kissed Mom, and then he looked down at me. “Hey, kiddo. How’s it going?”

  He reached down and ruffled my hair. I know he didn’t mean to hurt me, but I had to bite my lip against the pain that crashed against the back of my head at his touch. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice my reaction.

  He glanced around the kitchen. “Where’s Ellie?”

  Mom wiped her hands clean. “She went to a friend’s birthday party. And it’s about time she came home, I think.”

  I was still distracted by the throbbing at the back of my head, so I was surprised when she said my name.

  “Jonas, would you go get your sister? She’s at the Elander’s house. Tell her Dad’s home and it’s time for dinner.”

  I nodded. “Sure, Mom.” I was grateful for an excuse to be alone and get some fresh air. The Elander house wasn’t too far away, but it would give me some time alone.

  “Hey, kiddo!” Dad called before I could get out the door. “Hurry back. We’ve got yard work to do after dinner.”

  I waved a hand to show I’d heard him, then I was outside. The sky was red with the setting sun and the air was fresh and cool.

  I closed my eyes while I walked, enjoying the feel of the wind on my face.

  It didn’t take me long to reach the Elander’s house, and when I got there it looked like the party was still in full swing. All the kids at the party were Ellie’s age or younger, and I was instantly annoyed by their loud, high-pitched shrieks and laughter.

  I searched the crowd for my sister’s familiar braids and I spotted them after a minute. I made my way across the yard and soon caught up to her.

  “Ellie!” I had to shout to be heard above the commotion.

  She looked around at her name, and when she saw me her smile disappeared.

  “It’s time to go, Ellie!”

  She pursed her lips and then turned to her friends with a look of longsuffering.

  I folded my arms impatiently and waited for her to say her goodbyes. As soon as I saw her walking toward me, I made my way out of the juvenile party, wincing when every shrill squeal stabbed at the back of my head.

  Once I made it out of the yard I kept walking. Ellie knew the way home, and I was done listening to kids scream.

  I headed back toward the house, but I didn’t really want to go home. I just wanted to keep walking in the nice cool air.

  When I heard running footsteps coming up behind me, I assumed Ellie didn’t want to walk alone in the dim evening light. I considered walking faster (I could easily outrun her), but I knew she would complain to Mom about it, so I slowed down to let her catch up.

  As the feet got closer, I heard panting and I frowned. It wasn’t very far to run. Ellie shouldn’t be breathing that hard.

  I turned to see what she was doing and I froze.

  It wasn’t Ellie running toward me—it was the girl I had seen across the schoolyard earlier today.

  I watched as she raced toward me, drawing nearer with impressive speed. I wondered if I should run, but before I could decide she was calling out to me, still a few yards away.

  “Who are you!?” She was gasping from her run, but her voice was surprisingly hostile.

  I was so surprised by her question, I couldn’t even answer. I just watched her close the distance between us. I thought she would stop a few feet away, but she passed that mark and slammed into me, nearly knocking me over.

  “Hey!” I pushed her away, but she latched onto my arm and wouldn’t let go. “Who are you?”

  Her green eyes were bright with fury. “What were you doing? You could have killed us all!”

  I was thoroughly confused. “What are you talking about?”

  She grabbed my jaw and pushed my face up toward the sky. “Whose side are you on?”

  I could see the first stars blinking to life—or maybe that was from the pain. The back of my head was throbbing like crazy!

  I thrust her away in anger and jerked my arm out of her viselike grip. “What’s wrong with you?” My arm stung where she’d grabbed me. “Who do you think you are?”

  Before she had a chance to answer (though, I don’t know if she would’ve answered at all), I heard a familiar voice.

  “Jonas!” Ellie had finally got away from the party.

  I looked toward her and seriously considered telling her to run. I didn’t want my little sister anywhere near this crazy girl.

  But then the girl in front of me let out a sound of frustration and raced away.

  I watched her go in stunned silence. Soon, she had faded into the night.

  Ellie came up beside me. “Who was that?”

  I could only shake my head.

  “Jonas!” Ellie’
s tone was accusing. “Did you get beat up again?”

  I was confused at first, but then I saw that she was looking at my arm—the one the girl had latched onto. I brought it closer to my face for inspection and realized I was bleeding.

  That wacko had scratched me!

  I could clearly see where her nails had bit into my skin and my eyes traced the red grooves trailing from each nail-bite. No wonder my arm was stinging.

  I let my arm drop and looked down at Ellie. “No. I didn’t get beat up again.”

  “Then what happened?” There was no belief in her voice, only overwhelming amounts of skepticism.

  I didn’t want to bring up the crazy girl, so I lied instead.

  “I don’t know. I guess one of the kids at the party must have grabbed me or something.”

  Ellie still looked unconvinced.

  I huffed and turned back toward our house. “Just forget about it. It’s not your problem.”

  Ellie didn’t reply, but she followed when I started walking, so I didn’t worry anymore.

  The walk to our house wasn’t long, and by the time we arrived, I still hadn’t thought up an explanation for my arm. I was pretty sure my parents wouldn’t believe my story about the party kid, but I didn’t know what else to go with.

  Luckily it was my left arm, and since I was right-handed, I was able to hide the injury for most of dinner.

  But the jig went up when Dad asked for my help in the yard—something about planting some new flowers that thrived off moonlight.

  I stood up without thinking, and Mom suddenly gasped. “Jonas!”

  She was at my side in an instant.

  I tried to hide my arm behind my leg, but I knew it was no use. She pulled my arm into the light and made a soft sound, a cross between a growl and a cry.

  She pushed me gently down onto my chair. “What happened?”

  “I . . . I think it happened at the party.”

  Dad hurried to the bathroom and returned with the med-kit.

  I looked down at my arm and winced. The blood had mostly dried, and it looked bad. Red gashes followed the circumference of my left arm, just below the elbow; dried blood streaked down from each one.