Sleepless (Bird of Stone) by Ward Tracey

Author:Ward, Tracey [Ward, Tracey]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2013-08-11T21:00:00+00:00

∞

“My sister says hi.” I tell him as I take my place beside him on the dock.

His brows crease slightly. “Your sister Cara, right?”

“Yeah, I only have the one sister.”

“No, I know. I’m just bad with names. Sorry.”

I blink, surprised by the apology and by the fact that Mr. Bad With Names who still believes I’m his imaginary friend remembered my sister’s name.

“It’s fine.” I say quietly. “You got it right.”

“Good.”

“So what are we doing tonight?”

He looks up at the gray clouds sitting motionless in the sky. They look full and ready to rain. I imagine the rain would be warm and summery, giving you that bathwater feeling of being wet and making you wonder if lightning isn’t on its way.

Before I can stop it, the skies open up and we’re drenched. The water is warm, just as I wanted it, and the air feels heavy with electricity. I burst out laughing and look over to find Nick scowling at his soaked clothes.

“Not really what I had in mind.” he mutters.

“Sorry.” I apologize. We both know I don’t mean it.

There are streaks of lightning in the distance across the water and Nick raises his head when he hears the low rumble of thunder.

“You’re not going to get us killed, right? Jury is still out on whether or not you die in real life if you die in a dream.”

“I told you it’s an old wives’ tale. And no, I won’t kill us.”

“You have control of it?” he asks dubiously, watching the lightning become less and less distant.

The thunder booms loudly. I flinch.

“Maybe I should keep it on the other side of the lake.”

“Good idea.” he agrees. “And how long are you planning on the rain happening?”

“Oh, forever. I love it.”

“Huh.”

Nick imagines himself an umbrella, a sensible black one, go figure, and his clothes are instantly dry beneath it.

“Cheater.” I mutter.

“Resourceful.” he corrects.

We sit in silence and watch the storm rage across the lake. It’s beautiful and powerful. I’m proud to bursting but I’m also soaked to the bone and it’s getting really old really fast. I’m starting to envy Nick, his umbrella and most of all his dry clothes, but I’m way too proud to tell him that. Instead, I try to conjure my own umbrella or at least taper off the rain a little but it’s a wasted effort; nothing changes. There’s something missing with me, something Nick clearly has that I don’t because that guy is always in control of everything.

“You want some help?”

“No.” I answer immediately, even though yes, yes I do.

“You sure?”

I sit and brood.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Here,” he says, shifting the umbrella and scooting closer to me. “Get under here. It’s big enough for two.”

He’s grinning, the smug bastard.

I hesitate, worried about the proximity, but being dry is too much of a temptation to resist. I move in closer as he prompted and scowl at him when he lets go of the umbrella handle and casually stuffs his hands in his pockets. The umbrella, of course, hovers exactly where he left it.

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