Disequilibrium

Part 2: Sophomore Year - Scene 10

Two weeks later, I have a dream about Casper.

We're on an island floating in the sky. There's not much on it; just a couple of trees, a stream, birds and tiny insects. The only people on there are us, but we don't mind it much. Casper has this huge grin on his face, his fingers entwined with mine as we run past trees and small shrubs.

I've got my eyes on him as we're running, watching the way the strands of his hair move in the wind and the crinkle around his eyes as he smiles. I'm watching the one dimple on his left cheek, the bob of his Adam's apple when he laughs, and the way he's just glowing like the goddamn sun.

He looks beautiful, and I can't stop staring. Casper only glances at me once or twice but mainly keeps his eyes ahead, still smiling and laughing with his hand in mine. I don't know what we're running to and I'm sure he doesn't either, but we don't care. We're just going.

Suddenly, Casper stops running and shouts, "Holden!" as he lets go of my hand. I've still got my eyes on him, so I don't notice we've reached the edge of the island. I'm trying to stop but I can't. I just can't. My feet are still moving. He tries to reach out for me, and I try to grab him too, but we can't touch each other anymore.

And soon enough, I'm falling right over the edge.

***

My eyes pop open before I can experience the impact of the fall. There's sweat pooled on me again and soaks the bed sheets. My shirt sticks to my chest the same way my hair is plastered on my forehead, and I can't stop heaving like I've been underwater. I shrug off my shirt and try to calm down, but no matter how much I breathe in, I still smell the trees. I still hear our footsteps pounding on the ground. I still hear him calling me.

I can't see him. I can't touch him. What the fuck is wrong with me?

I jump out of bed and run straight to the kitchen, checking all drawers for the pack of smokes. They're always on the counter. Dad leaves them right next to the microwave, doesn't he? Then why the hell can't I find them?

I'm going crazy. I swear I'm going insane. My vision keeps fading in and out, the scenery of the kitchen blurring like a camera trying to stay in focus. I press my back against the counter to keep myself from falling, nails digging into my scalp to stop all the noises, but it's no use. I still hear him. He won't shut up. I still hear him.

I actually think about calling Dad for help, but keep my mouth shut instead. He wouldn't do anything—I know it. He'd be wondering why I'm sweating buckets and looking like a pathetic kid rather than what's going on in my mind. But I feel like I'm dying, and I can't stop my chest from rising and falling at a rapid speed. The trailer seems too tiny for my body. Is everything really getting smaller or is it just my head?

I can't stay in here. I can't. I'm not sure how early it is, but I hope to God Nichole is still awake. I slip out of the trailer and sprint on the cold ground to her place, pounding my fist on her door once I get there. I'm standing in the goddamn cold for about two minutes, still pounding furiously until Nichole finally answers. Her hair is all over the place in tangles and her eyes are filled with sleep and irritation, eyelids barely half open. She's got a big shirt on—my dad's, I'm guessing—and quickly covers herself as much as she can once she feels the cold.

It takes her a while to register what's going on. She gives me a once over, noticing I'm only in my boxers, and then says, "Get in."

She mostly pulls me in, though. I don't mind it. She flicks on the lights and guides me to her couch, sitting me down before wrapping a blanket over my shoulders like it might stop me from losing my mind. It's my first time here, and any other day I'd be checking everything out, but not now. I still can't breathe.