“Me too,” she said.

Dekka never remembered dreams. She was sure she had them because sometimes she woke up with a shadow on her mind. But she never really recalled details. The dreams or nightmares must have come—they said everyone dreamed, even dogs—but all Dekka retained was a sense of foreboding.

Her dreams—and her nightmares—were all in the real world.

Dekka’s parents had sent her away. They’d sent her to Coates Academy, a boarding school for troublesome kids. In Dekka’s case the “trouble” was not the few incidents of misbehavior she’d b

een involved in. Nor was it the occasional fight—Dekka had a habit of defending girls who had no other defender, and sometimes that resulted in a confrontation. Nine times out of ten, the fights went nowhere. Dekka was big and strong and fearless, so bullies usually found an excuse to walk away once they realized Dekka wouldn’t. But on half a dozen occasions blows had been traded.

Dekka won some and lost some.

But the fights weren’t the problem for her parents. Dekka’s parents had taught her to stand up for herself.

The problem had been a kiss. A teacher had seen her kissing a girl and had called her parents. It wasn’t even at school. It was in a parking lot outside a Claim Jumper Restaurant.

Dekka remembered every detail of that kiss. It was her first. It had scared her like nothing before ever had. And later, when she’d caught her breath, it had excited her like nothing before ever had.

It had upset her parents. To put it mildly. Especially when Dekka used the “L” word openly for the first time. Her father was not going to have a lesbian daughter. He’d put it quite a bit more crudely than that. He had slapped her face, hard, twice. Her mother had stood there dithering and ineffectual, saying nothing.

So it was off to Coates to be with fellow students who ranged from decent kids whose parents just wanted to be rid of them, all the way to the brilliant, manipulative bully, Caine, and his creep of a henchman, Drake.

Her parents imagined she would be under constant discipline. After all, Coates had a reputation for fixing damaged kids. And a part of Dekka wanted to be “fixed” because that would make life so much easier. But she had never chosen to be what she was, any more than she had chosen to be black. There was no “fixing” her.

But at Coates, Dekka had met Brianna. And all thought of changing herself, of becoming “normal,” evaporated.

She had fallen in love with Brianna at first sight. Even back then, long before Brianna became “the Breeze,” she had a swagger and a style that Dekka found irresistible. A feeling she had never shared with Brianna. Probably never would.

Where Dekka was gloomy and internal, Brianna was loud, brash, and reckless. Dekka had looked for some evidence that Brianna might be gay, too. But when she was honest, Dekka had to admit that this didn’t seem to be the case.

But love wasn’t rational. Love didn’t have to make sense. Neither did hope. So Dekka held on to her love and to her hope.

Did she dream about Brianna? She didn’t know. Probably didn’t want to know.

She rolled out of bed and stood up. It was pitch-black. She found her way to the window and pushed back the blinds. Dawn was still an hour off, at least. She had no clock. What was the point?

She looked toward the beach. She could just make out the sand and the faint phosphorescence of the water’s edge.

Dekka found the book she was reading, The Unknown Shore. It was one of a series of seafaring books she’d found in the house. It was an unusual choice, but she found it strangely reassuring to inhabit a very different world for a while each day.

She carried it downstairs to the one light in the house. That light was a small ball that floated in midair in her “family room.” A Sammy Sun, kids called them. Sam had made it for her, using the weird power he had. It burned night and day. It was not hot to the touch, had no wire or other source of energy. It simply burned like a weightless lightbulb. Magic. But magic was old news in the FAYZ. Dekka had her own.

Dekka rummaged in her cupboard and found a cold, boiled artichoke. There were a lot of artichokes to be had in the FAYZ. Not exactly bacon and eggs and hash browns, but better than the alternative, which was starving. The food supply in the FAYZ—the mordantly named Fallout Alley Youth Zone—was tenuous, generally unpleasant, and, occasionally, literally sickening, but Dekka had endured protracted hunger in earlier months, so a breakfast artichoke was fine with her.

In any case, she’d lost some weight. She supposed that was a good thing.

She felt more than heard a rush of air. The door slammed, a sound that arrived at the same time as Brianna. Brianna came to a vibrating stop in the middle of the room.

“Jack’s hacking up a lung! I need cough medicine!”

“Hi, Brianna,” Dekka said. “It’s kind of the middle of the night.”

“Whatever. Nice pj’s, by the way. You pick those up at Gap for Truck Drivers?”

“They’re comfortable,” Dekka said mildly.

“Yeah. For you and your twelve closest friends. You’ve got curves—unlike me—you should show proud, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Jack’s sick?” Dekka reminded her, hiding a smile.

Tags: Michael Grant Gone
Source: readsnovelonline.net