didn’t like it. All I really wanted to do was beg for more.
‘Not like this, Marla. Not because you’re sad. I want to love you when you’re happy. I want to love you when everything has been put right and you are standing beside me in Faera where you belong.’
The man of my dreams was certainly a gentleman.
‘Can you make it happen, Leif?’
‘I know I can,’ he said, his face determined. He set me back on my feet and kissed my cheek. I was just about to tell him my theory on why he didn’t wear a shirt when the alarm clock roused me from my slumber.
Disappointment engulfed me as I returned to the real world. I lay in bed, recovering, still burning from Leif’s kiss, wondering what it all meant. I had no doubt that my dreams were somehow connected to my true identity. But could that be all there was to them? Oh, I hoped not. But how could it be otherwise? I sighed. I must be crazy to imagine that these dreams could be anything but fantasy. But they felt so real! Besides that, my lips throbbed from that kiss and I could still recall the texture of his thick dark hair tangled in my fingers. I knew the sensation of my body pressed to his, his hand in mine. I remembered every contour of his face. How wonderful it would be if Leif did exist somehow. It was absurd, I was absurd. Leif was nothing but the perfect creation of my subconscious, something symbolic representing an innate yearning to discover my identity.
Back and forth my thoughts roamed until reluctantly I dragged myself out of bed and headed for the shower. I washed quickly and got ready for school.
Jack was coming by to pick me up this morning. I was sitting on the balcony waiting—infinitely more exhausted than when I went to bed—when he pulled up out front. I called out goodbye to Mum, grabbed my bag and went to meet him.
‘What’s up?’ Jack asked as I climbed into the car beside him.
‘Nothing.’
‘Something’s up.’ He pushed a finger between my eyebrows.
‘Ow, Jack, don’t!’
‘Then stop frowning and tell me what’s up.’
‘I had another dream last night.’
‘And,’ he prompted, rolling his hand in front of him.
‘You’re going to think I’m crazy.’
‘I already know you’re crazy, so purge.’ He started the car and pulled away from the kerb.
‘Jack, I think I’m going mad. And don’t laugh, because I’m serious.’ I looked over to him. If he had so much as a crinkle at the edge of his mouth I wouldn’t say another word. He didn’t. ‘These dreams I’m having are so realistic. Even when I’m in the middle of one I know it can only be a dream—that’s strange in itself, don’t you think?’ Jack nodded slowly. ‘But it’s more than that. When I’m with Leif it’s as real as sitting here with you. I can touch him, talk to him, even smell him, and when I wake up, it doesn’t fade. It’s like I’ve been shifted from one world to another. Have you ever experienced anything like that?’
‘Can’t say I have.’ He glanced over to me. ‘Smell him, you say?’
I rolled my eyes and frowned.
‘No, really, I’m curious. What does he smell like?’
And because he didn’t laugh, I told him. ‘He smells gorgeous. Like summer and nature—the forest or something. And like some kind of delicious spice that just gets up your nose and makes you crave more. It’s heavenly. He’s heavenly. He told me he’s a prince and that I’m betrothed to him, says we are connected by our very souls.’
‘Wow.’
‘I know, and there’s something else,’ I said, then paused.
‘Go on.’
‘It’s really weird.’
He glanced at me. ‘So?’
‘When I kiss his hand, it’s like something is coming into me . . . his essence or something. It feels amazing .’ I closed my eyes for a moment, opened them again and looked to heaven with a long sigh. ‘Like my whole body—no, not just my body, my whole being—is overcome with this lovely, tingling happiness, like being caressed on the inside.’ I
‘Not like this, Marla. Not because you’re sad. I want to love you when you’re happy. I want to love you when everything has been put right and you are standing beside me in Faera where you belong.’
The man of my dreams was certainly a gentleman.
‘Can you make it happen, Leif?’
‘I know I can,’ he said, his face determined. He set me back on my feet and kissed my cheek. I was just about to tell him my theory on why he didn’t wear a shirt when the alarm clock roused me from my slumber.
Disappointment engulfed me as I returned to the real world. I lay in bed, recovering, still burning from Leif’s kiss, wondering what it all meant. I had no doubt that my dreams were somehow connected to my true identity. But could that be all there was to them? Oh, I hoped not. But how could it be otherwise? I sighed. I must be crazy to imagine that these dreams could be anything but fantasy. But they felt so real! Besides that, my lips throbbed from that kiss and I could still recall the texture of his thick dark hair tangled in my fingers. I knew the sensation of my body pressed to his, his hand in mine. I remembered every contour of his face. How wonderful it would be if Leif did exist somehow. It was absurd, I was absurd. Leif was nothing but the perfect creation of my subconscious, something symbolic representing an innate yearning to discover my identity.
Back and forth my thoughts roamed until reluctantly I dragged myself out of bed and headed for the shower. I washed quickly and got ready for school.
Jack was coming by to pick me up this morning. I was sitting on the balcony waiting—infinitely more exhausted than when I went to bed—when he pulled up out front. I called out goodbye to Mum, grabbed my bag and went to meet him.
‘What’s up?’ Jack asked as I climbed into the car beside him.
‘Nothing.’
‘Something’s up.’ He pushed a finger between my eyebrows.
‘Ow, Jack, don’t!’
‘Then stop frowning and tell me what’s up.’
‘I had another dream last night.’
‘And,’ he prompted, rolling his hand in front of him.
‘You’re going to think I’m crazy.’
‘I already know you’re crazy, so purge.’ He started the car and pulled away from the kerb.
‘Jack, I think I’m going mad. And don’t laugh, because I’m serious.’ I looked over to him. If he had so much as a crinkle at the edge of his mouth I wouldn’t say another word. He didn’t. ‘These dreams I’m having are so realistic. Even when I’m in the middle of one I know it can only be a dream—that’s strange in itself, don’t you think?’ Jack nodded slowly. ‘But it’s more than that. When I’m with Leif it’s as real as sitting here with you. I can touch him, talk to him, even smell him, and when I wake up, it doesn’t fade. It’s like I’ve been shifted from one world to another. Have you ever experienced anything like that?’
‘Can’t say I have.’ He glanced over to me. ‘Smell him, you say?’
I rolled my eyes and frowned.
‘No, really, I’m curious. What does he smell like?’
And because he didn’t laugh, I told him. ‘He smells gorgeous. Like summer and nature—the forest or something. And like some kind of delicious spice that just gets up your nose and makes you crave more. It’s heavenly. He’s heavenly. He told me he’s a prince and that I’m betrothed to him, says we are connected by our very souls.’
‘Wow.’
‘I know, and there’s something else,’ I said, then paused.
‘Go on.’
‘It’s really weird.’
He glanced at me. ‘So?’
‘When I kiss his hand, it’s like something is coming into me . . . his essence or something. It feels amazing .’ I closed my eyes for a moment, opened them again and looked to heaven with a long sigh. ‘Like my whole body—no, not just my body, my whole being—is overcome with this lovely, tingling happiness, like being caressed on the inside.’ I
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