New Release Sample: VIRTUALLY LONDON

 

Like I said, I had nightmares. Those really nebulous, misty, disjointed nightmares where I knew I was being chased. I had to keep moving, because if I slowed down or looked behind myself, whatever it was would catch me. Plus, the nightmares weren't letting me go. As soon as I fell asleep again, I was right back to the point in the dream where I had managed to yank myself awake.

"What's bothering you?" Bethany asked, one morning after some wake-me-up-six-times-during-the-night nightmares.

That was the great thing about having Bethany for my closest friend. We could tell when things were wrong with each other, or when one of us had an incredible secret. I lost count of the times, growing up, when one of us would be thinking about the other, wanting to talk, and the other one would call, or come by the house. Angela encouraged our friendship and said we were good for each other. As we got older, I grew more sure that she somehow helped our link or whatever-it-was grow stronger.

So when Bethany asked me, before I even finished sitting down next to her in homeroom, I tapped my ear, then my wristwatch, our signal for "tell you later--when the mundanes aren't listening."

We went outside at lunch and walked around the high school instead of sitting in our favorite spot under the trees next to the agriculture class's experimental garden plot. It was the only way we could guarantee someone wouldn't eavesdrop. When I finished describing the nightmares, the solid sense of threat but no other details, Bethany didn’t even pause before telling me what was only common sense.

"You need to talk to Angela. Have you told your folks?"

"I would have, but you know how crazy it is in the mornings at our house."

Bethany just rolled her eyes and grinned. She had slept over enough times to know that no matter what time of the year, whether it was the weekend or weekday, Longfellows couldn't seem to get our acts together in the morning. We were always rushing around and snatching up things, hurtling out the door and coming back a few times. Usually we raced out the door half-dressed, running late for work or shopping or appointments or school or wherever we had to be that morning.