everything I’d just seen and heard.
I tilted my head to one side, studying Joshua’s confused expression. “Did I … was I sleeping again?”
Still staring at me intently, he nodded. “Yeah, for a couple hours, actually. But in the last few minutes, you were … shouting.”
“Huh?”
“Shouting. Loudly.” His eyes darted to the front of the car and then back to mine. “Even my dad said he thought he heard something. That whole inactive-Seer thing, I guess?”
“Oh.” My voice sounded flat. “Sorry. I didn’t know. I must have been … talking in my sleep.”
Or screaming out to my dead father .
Across from me, Jillian whipped her head from side to side, obviously trying to shake away the fact that I’d frightened her. Then she rolled her eyes, composed her face into its far more common look of disapproval, and dropped back down into her seat. Before she sunk out of sight, I heard her mutter, “God, you’re creepy.”
Before yesterday her words would have bothered me. Hurt me, like they always did. Tonight, however, I didn’t really have the energy to care what Jillian thought I was.
I glanced back up at Joshua. He still watched me with that slightly unnerved expression.
“Sorry,” I repeated in the same emotionless tone I’d used earlier.
He gave me a small, uncertain smile. “No biggie. It was just a little, you know …”
“Creepy.” I sighed.
Then, with a shrug, I turned away from him to scrutinize the fabric of the headrest in front of me. At this moment, all I wanted to do was bury myself in my own thoughts. But Joshua leaned forward, trying to recapture my gaze.
“Want to talk about it?” he offered quietly.
“Not really.” After a beat I added, “No offense.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw him shake his head as if to say None taken . Which probably wasn’t entirely true.
I felt a twinge of regret, so sharp it actually hurt. I didn’t want to hurt Joshua. In fact, I wanted to tell him everything I’d just seen. But I shouldn’t. Couldn’t. Not now, when our expiration date loomed so close. Besides, I could hardly force more than a few words past the bitter taste of disappointment in my mouth.
I just couldn’t believe it: the whole thing had been another useless, haunting dream? Standing in the field, seeing the girl, talking to my father—all an illusion? It seemed impossible.
But if Joshua said I hadn’t left, then I suppose I hadn’t. Instead, my brain had created everything in some sort of frenzied, tantalizing fit of wish fulfillment. After ten years apart, and after months of searching for him, I guess it made a cruel sort of sense that I would imagine some mystical interaction between my father and me.
I wanted to shout aloud, to protest how unfair it all was. And more than anything, I wanted to confide in Joshua. I didn’t want to spend my last days with him locked in some secretive prison of my own making.
Screw it , I thought and turned to him, mouth open. But Rebecca’s voice interrupted me.
“Holy crap, hallelujah,” she sang out from the front seat. “Ursulines Avenue. We made it.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” Jeremiah agreed, and then pulled the car to a stop outside a redbrick building. “Troops,” he commanded, “prepare to disembark.”
“Gladly,” Jillian groaned as her father killed the engine.
I heard the clicking of seat belts and then the snap of someone’s door handle. Immediately, the overhead lights flooded the SUV. In the darkness, I hadn’t seen Jillian sit up again. Now, for just a moment, her gaze caught mine as we both blinked against the sudden brightness. Maybe I imagined it, but I thought I saw something strange there, in the depths of her eyes. Curiosity? Anticipation? She looked away too quickly for me to decide.
“Ready?”
Joshua’s whisper in my ear made me jump.
“Y-yeah,” I stammered. “Sorry.”
“For what?” He laughed and then leaned around me to push part of Jillian’s seat
I tilted my head to one side, studying Joshua’s confused expression. “Did I … was I sleeping again?”
Still staring at me intently, he nodded. “Yeah, for a couple hours, actually. But in the last few minutes, you were … shouting.”
“Huh?”
“Shouting. Loudly.” His eyes darted to the front of the car and then back to mine. “Even my dad said he thought he heard something. That whole inactive-Seer thing, I guess?”
“Oh.” My voice sounded flat. “Sorry. I didn’t know. I must have been … talking in my sleep.”
Or screaming out to my dead father .
Across from me, Jillian whipped her head from side to side, obviously trying to shake away the fact that I’d frightened her. Then she rolled her eyes, composed her face into its far more common look of disapproval, and dropped back down into her seat. Before she sunk out of sight, I heard her mutter, “God, you’re creepy.”
Before yesterday her words would have bothered me. Hurt me, like they always did. Tonight, however, I didn’t really have the energy to care what Jillian thought I was.
I glanced back up at Joshua. He still watched me with that slightly unnerved expression.
“Sorry,” I repeated in the same emotionless tone I’d used earlier.
He gave me a small, uncertain smile. “No biggie. It was just a little, you know …”
“Creepy.” I sighed.
Then, with a shrug, I turned away from him to scrutinize the fabric of the headrest in front of me. At this moment, all I wanted to do was bury myself in my own thoughts. But Joshua leaned forward, trying to recapture my gaze.
“Want to talk about it?” he offered quietly.
“Not really.” After a beat I added, “No offense.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw him shake his head as if to say None taken . Which probably wasn’t entirely true.
I felt a twinge of regret, so sharp it actually hurt. I didn’t want to hurt Joshua. In fact, I wanted to tell him everything I’d just seen. But I shouldn’t. Couldn’t. Not now, when our expiration date loomed so close. Besides, I could hardly force more than a few words past the bitter taste of disappointment in my mouth.
I just couldn’t believe it: the whole thing had been another useless, haunting dream? Standing in the field, seeing the girl, talking to my father—all an illusion? It seemed impossible.
But if Joshua said I hadn’t left, then I suppose I hadn’t. Instead, my brain had created everything in some sort of frenzied, tantalizing fit of wish fulfillment. After ten years apart, and after months of searching for him, I guess it made a cruel sort of sense that I would imagine some mystical interaction between my father and me.
I wanted to shout aloud, to protest how unfair it all was. And more than anything, I wanted to confide in Joshua. I didn’t want to spend my last days with him locked in some secretive prison of my own making.
Screw it , I thought and turned to him, mouth open. But Rebecca’s voice interrupted me.
“Holy crap, hallelujah,” she sang out from the front seat. “Ursulines Avenue. We made it.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” Jeremiah agreed, and then pulled the car to a stop outside a redbrick building. “Troops,” he commanded, “prepare to disembark.”
“Gladly,” Jillian groaned as her father killed the engine.
I heard the clicking of seat belts and then the snap of someone’s door handle. Immediately, the overhead lights flooded the SUV. In the darkness, I hadn’t seen Jillian sit up again. Now, for just a moment, her gaze caught mine as we both blinked against the sudden brightness. Maybe I imagined it, but I thought I saw something strange there, in the depths of her eyes. Curiosity? Anticipation? She looked away too quickly for me to decide.
“Ready?”
Joshua’s whisper in my ear made me jump.
“Y-yeah,” I stammered. “Sorry.”
“For what?” He laughed and then leaned around me to push part of Jillian’s seat
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