Read Online The Vault of Dreamers by Caragh M. O'brien - Free Book Online

neck.
    “Did I miss anything?” Janice asked.
    “Yes,” I said. I switched off my camera. “Do you want to come with us?” I asked Anna.
     “We’re going to find someone else to film.”
    “No. I’m good.”
    “You sure? Come with us,” I insisted.
    She shook her head. “I want to be here.”
    Janice beckoned me. I slipped around Anna to the door.
    “That was wonderful,” I said.
    Anna balanced her bow again in her hand. “Thank you,” she said. “Close the door.”
    I did, stepping out into the hallway. Faintly, from inside, I heard Anna starting
     another piece.
    “What happened in there?” Janice asked, whispering.
    “It was incredible,” I said. “She played for me.” I’d never been next to a cello like
     that. I had no way to describe how Anna had sucked me into her music, or the power
     in the silence afterward. She’d given me a perfect gift just when I was ready to receive
     it, and somehow it felt even more generous because we were strangers.
    “Can I see?” Janice asked, reaching for my camera.
    “No,” I said. “We have to find the next person.”
    “I bet that boosted Anna’s blip rank,” Janice said, pulling out her phone. “She’s
     up to eighty-two!” Janice said. “That’s a huge jump!”
    “Who’s at one hundred now?” I asked, looking over her shoulder at her phone. Someone
     else must have slid down to take the bottom rank.
    Janice skimmed her phone. “Terry Fieldstone. He’s in the library. It looks like he’s
     reading or sleeping.”
    “Let’s go find him,” I said.
    We did. In worn boots and a plaid shirt, Terry was sprawled in one of the low armchairs
     near the windows. It turned out he was reading Shakespeare and memorizing the “But
     soft, what light from yonder window breaks?” speech from Romeo and Juliet . When I asked if he would recite it for me to record, he tilted his head back in
     his chair and his gaze went far away. He spoke the words tenderly, effortlessly, as
     if he were remembering a dream he’d once had, and it lifted a brush of goose bumps
     along my arms.
    When I lowered my camera, he still didn’t move. Janice was spellbound.
    “That was awesome,” she said.
    Terry eased out of his concentration and rubbed both hands in his hair. “I’ve seen
     you in acting class,” he said to her. “You’re good.”
    “I can’t do better than what you just did,” she said. “That blew me away.”
    He laughed. “Yeah, whatever. I’ll be back to driving my aunt’s tractor tomorrow. This
     was fun.”
    “You’re a farmer?” I asked.
    “Yep,” he said. “In Montana. My aunt wanted me to try out for this, though. Never
     thought I’d get this far.”
    “But you’ll keep acting once you get home, won’t you?” Janice asked. “You can’t give
     up.”
    “Well, now, I’ll think about it,” he said. He gave her a smile. “I’ll be following
     your career, no doubt about it.”
    The charm was too smarmy for my taste, but Janice blushed. She pushed up the sleeves
     of her blue dress and adjusted the strap of her purse over her shoulder while she
     chatted. I tried to duck out and leave them to it, but Janice gave him a wave and
     came along with me.
    Once we were around the corner, she pulled me up short and took out her phone.
    “He’s up to eighty-six! That’s a lot better than one hundred,” she said.
    “It’s probably you brushing off on him,” I said. “Who’s one hundred now?”
    “Let’s check your blip rank,” she said.
    “Not yet. I don’t want to know,” I said. “Tell me who’s at one hundred.”
    We used Janice’s phone to guide us on a sort of scavenger hunt around the campus.
     The next student to drop to the lowest blip rank was an artist who was working on
     a graphic novel with pages and pages of drawings. Hunched over an easel in the top
     floor of the art building, he had a radio blaring and smudges of ink along the sides
     of both hands. After him, the next student with the lowest rank