I could tell right away that my mom was taken in by Sam. It was hard not to respond to her enthusiasm.
“We better go mom. We’ll see you after school.” We had made plans the previous night to get together again after school.
“All right, it was nice to meet you, Sam.” Bye honey, I’ll see you guys after school.” With one last wave she drove off.
“Your mom’s very nice,” Sam commented, as we headed toward the tree where we sat yesterday morning.
“Thanks, I think so too.”
“So, I’m dying to know….was I right?”
It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what she was talking about. “Yeah, it was him, and the dream was fantastic all the way up until the end.”
“He thinks there’s more to our connections…”
“Whoa backup, when did you talk to him? Can you talk to each other in your dreams now?” confusion colored Sam’s voice.
“I didn’t have a chance to tell you. I talked to him this morning. He came over after we woke up from the dream.”
“Oh my gosh, you have to tell me everything. Was he everything you expected? Is the connection between you still strong? What did you talk about?”
I laughed. “Slow down, I’ll tell you everything.”
“Ouch!”
I was interrupted by a sharp stinging pain on the side of my head. Something had struck me hard on my right temple. Looking down, I saw a softball lying on the grass beside me.
“Sorry about that,” a guy said, jogging up to me.
He didn’t look sorry though; on the contrary, he looked quite pleased with himself.
“Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?” He said in a suggestive voice.
“Oh, brother!” Sam said with disgust.
“What’s it to you fridge? He said with contempt as he turned to look at Sam.
“So, what do you think, will a kiss make it better?” he asked, trying to lay on the charm.
“No thanks,” I said with disgust, and turned my back on him.
“Hey, what’s your problem? I was just trying to be friendly.”
“I have enough friends,” I said dismissively, waiting for him to leave. >I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. Someone was on our front lawn, but strangely enough, I felt no panic at all. For some reason I expected him to be there.
I stared at him for a few seconds trying to organize my thoughts and then I headed out the door and down the stairs. I had put off the talk yesterday, but I was ready for it now.
Opening the front door quietly, I stepped outside. I could feel him the moment I stepped over the threshold. The impact of looking at him was no different than it had been the day before. If anything, the pull seemed even stronger today.
“It’s you?” I said.
“Yeah, it’s me,” he answered.
“You knew yesterday in class?”
“Yes, I knew the moment you looked up at me. It was like being punched in the stomach.”
“Have you always been able to see my face?” I asked.