Dream to Me by Megan Paasch

Author:Megan Paasch
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Feiwel & Friends

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I circle my thumb over the back of Rhonda’s hand—the hand without an IV needle taped to it—and wonder if she can hear me. The nurse told me I should talk to her. That, depending on the coma, it’s believed people can still be aware of what’s going on around them. Which sounds horrifying to me. But she said it might be comforting for my sister to hear a familiar voice, so I’m trying to think of something to talk about. Something boring. Because what’s really going through my head wouldn’t be comforting at all.

I’m still reeling over what Jolee said to me as I was rushing out the door. I know Dad’s death isn’t my fault. How could it be? I didn’t pull a gun on him while he was trying to save someone’s life. I didn’t cause the car pileup that sent him to the scene. I wasn’t even there. I was at Riley’s when it happened. I wasn’t supposed to be, but I was.

My stomach lurches with the memory, like it always does when I allow myself to think of that night. Riley’s parents were out of town, but they didn’t want to pull her out of school. Which was why she was having a party on a weeknight. Dad said I couldn’t go, not just because it was a school night, but because he was well aware her parents weren’t going to be there. And he never did trust her after the incident with the liquor cabinet. But when he got called away, I took the opportunity to go, anyway. And I didn’t even have any fun because all I could think about was how much trouble I’d be in if I lost track of time and didn’t make it home before Dad did.

I’d felt so relieved when I walked in the door to find he wasn’t there. Giddy, even, for being so rebellious and getting away with it—so unlike me—like I’d gone through some important rite of passage. My gut does another twist. How could I have known Dad wouldn’t be coming back at all?

I try to think of another subject. Something I can talk to Rhonda about. “I finally got some information on our family,” I start, then change my mind. That’s not comforting, either. What would I say, exactly? That the Sylvans can intrude on other people’s dreams, which is probably why the town hated them so much? That apparently I can do it, too, so it’s definitely my fault she’s lying in this hospital bed right now? No, I need to talk about something else.

“I, um, I stayed with Bethany last night. She introduced me to The X-Files. You used to watch the reruns with Dad sometimes, right?”

The curtain draws back, and a nurse sticks his head in. “Don’t mind me. Just here to check vitals. Routine stuff.”

I scoot over to give him room as he sets a garbage bag on the other chair. “These are your sister’s clothes. Thought you might want to take them home with you, give them a good wash.

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