A/N: I wrote this faster than I thought I would...Well, that's good I guess. I actually had it finished yesterday, but fanfiction wasn't working...So anyway, here it is. It's fairly short (Just under 2000 words)...The next chapter should be longer though. Oh, and you'll probably figure this out, but this is Jess's "dream". Remember, she's trying to find Jake. Let me know if you guys need another summary or something because I know it's been a long time...

Disclaimer: Not mine!! All characters property of Meg Cabot.

Mentions: Hmm...I only got 3 reviews on my last chapter...Well, anyway, thank you to Ludwina, AubreyLove, and Nicole for sticking with me. I hope some other people start reading this again...I know it's my fault for not updating in a very very long time.

Anyway, w/o further ado...Another: Chapter XI. Remember, this is Jess's dream.


Chapter XI

Jess's Dream

The air was heavy and unbearably warm, even at 8:00 in the morning. I hit the little alarm clock that was blaring out some strange, foreign sound, but it did not stop. The horrible sound wouldn't let me sleep, so I yanked the plug from the wall and threw the clock across the room. It hit the opposite wall, where it smashed into a hundred pieces and fell to the floor with a loud crash. Maybe now I could get some sleep.

I had just closed my eyes when the sound returned. How was that possible? Stupid, possessed clock, I thought miserably. I was exhausted. Reluctantly, I swung my legs off the bed onto the hard wood floor. I yawned widely and stood up. The sound was closer now, as if it was coming from right outside my window.

I crossed to the little window and pulled up the shade. Huge red eyes stared back at me, and I nearly screamed. Then I realized that the eyes belonged to a really big red bird. It opened its beak and that horrible, unfamiliar sound came out.

"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" it screeched.

Ugh! What an ugly bird, I thought. Why couldn't it leave me alone?

I decided to scare it off so that maybe I could go back to sleep. I opened the window and waved my hand out it, an action that would have frightened any normal bird. This one, however, ignored the action completely. There was a broom near the window. I grabbed it and stuck it out the window, intending to knock the darn thing off the windowsill. It sidestepped the broom and continued to screech.

What was wrong with this big ugly red chicken? I yawned again and decided that I didn't care. It could—and probably would—scream its head off if it wanted to. I pulled the window shut and put the shade back down.

The bird continued to screech, of course, so I went back to the bed and pressed the pillow over my ear. I could still hear the awful sound, but it was quiet enough that I could ignore it and get back to sleep.

When I awoke again, it was to t he smell of eggs and bacon. I got out of bed eagerly, starving, and walked to the small kitchen.

"Hey," I greeted my uncle, who was standing at the stove, scrambling eggs in his pajamas. I sat at the table to wait until he had finished.

"Howdy, Sleepy Head!" he replied. "I'm surprised Jack didn't wake you."

"Who's Jack?" I asked, though I didn't really care.

"Jack's our rooster," he explained, using the plural although it'd been just him at the ranch since Aunt Ellen had died last year. "He wakes us up every morning at exactly eight o'clock. Smart bird," he said proudly, as if Jack were his own child.

So that ugly red chicken had a name. What was a rooster anyway and why would anyone want to be woken up by one every morning? I remembered the horrible sound. Cock-a-doodle-doo! I thought of the alarm clock, just a prop apparently. Well, now it was smashed into a hundred pieces.

"Ya hungry, Jake?" my uncle asked.

"Uh huh. Thanks, Uncle Henry."

He set a plate in front of me. It was piled high with scrambled eggs, bacon, and biscuits. Starved, I dug in. He set a plate down for himself and sat across from me. I shoveled food into my mouth quickly, something my own parents would have frowned upon. But I was starving. I hadn't eaten since breakfast yesterday. I'd had to get out of town fast.

"Mmm..."

"Ya like that?" my uncle asked in his thick southern accent. "Those eggs are fresh," he announced proudly without waiting for a response.

I nodded, my mouth too full to answer. I settled for another "Mmm."

"We get all this fresh from the farm," he bragged. "Best in the county."

I nearly choked on the eggs. These had been laid just this morning? It seemed so unsanitary. And this bacon: had he really slaughtered a pig so we could have breakfast?

I swallowed the mouthful of eggs with a gulp and pushed the rest around the plate, rearranging them so it looked like I'd eaten more than I had. I made sure to bury the remaining piece of bacon in them, too. Then I grabbed the biscuit instead. It seemed safer since it hadn't come from an animal.

Uncle Henry passed me the butter and a knife. It wasn't until I'd spread the butter on my biscuit that I realized where it must have come from. Cows, of course.

I tried not to think about the origin of my breakfast while I ate the biscuit. I washed it down with orange juice, which, I figured, must be safe. It's not as if oranges had come from an animal.

When I'd finished eating, Uncle Henry cleared my plate for me, and I went back to my room to change.

I looked into the mirror, and the face that stared back was one t hat I hardly recognized. There were dark circles under my brown eyes, and my hair was sticking up at every angle. It refused to cooperate as I tried to flatten it. Finally, I gave up and looked away from the mirror. I went to the window and pulled open the shade, allowing the sunlight to penetrate the room.

Jack was gone, I was relieved to see. The last thing I needed was for some bird to be stalking me. I looked out the window at the rest of the farm. To the left, I could see a small wooden structure surrounded by hens. And there was Jack, walking proudly amongst them, his head held high and his chest jutted out. He was one strange bird.

To the right of the birds was a strange assortment of animals. There were cows, grazing in a field; sheep, being herded by Rover, the sheepdog; pigs, splashing happily in the mud; and even some animals I couldn't identify.

I'd never been on a ranch before. I wasn't used to being around animals. Many of the animals I recognized I'd only seen on TV. When my aunt and uncle used to invite me down to visit them, I'd always made excuses, saying that I had to work or that I was ill. Even now, I was only here because I had to hide. It was only my first day here and already I wished I could leave.

I got my chance a couple of hours later when Uncle Henry announced that he had to go to the store in a nearby town. Immediately, I seized the chance to get out of the house and offered to go in his place.

He gave me directions to the store, then handed me the keys to the truck. And then I was off.

I drove too fast down the empty country roads, pushing the limits of the old truck. Wind rushed in through the open windows and drowned out the sound of the ancient radio. There was nothing on anyway. Just a lot of country music.

The scenery whizzing by me was dominated primarily by dirt and cows. It surprised me how open it was. I would go miles without seeing a single house. Barrels of hay lay in rows beside the road in some places and I wondered what they needed all of that hay for anyway.

The color brown was the prominent color in the landscape, and I found myself missing California, where the land was green and the trees were covered year-round. There were no palm trees here either. There were hardly any trees at all, and the few that there were were bare. I was surprised anything could grow in this heat.

Too soon, I entered a small town. The one grocery store was easy to find, and I parked the truck in front of it.

"No shoes, no shirt, no service!" proclaimed a sign on the door, and I wondered why anyone would ever go grocery shopping without a shirt...or shoes. Maybe it was some sort of a joke.

Almost everything we needed was harvested on the farm, but my uncle had to buy food for the animals every month. I looked at the list he'd given me and got to work. I was surprised a grocery store would carry chicken feed, but then again, everything here surprised me.

When I'd finished at the grocery store, I stowed my purchases in the truck and decided to walk around the town for a while. Mostly I just didn't want to go back to the farm yet.

I walked around for a little while, but I soon found out that there wasn't much to this town besides the grocery store. There was a small library, a single school, and a few houses. It wasn't long before I got bored and decided to head back to the farm.

When I got back to the truck, I noticed a big round rock behind it in the middle of the road. Had that been there before? I decided to move it since it was blocking the way out.

I walked over to the rock, gravel—yes, gravel; what a strange place—crunching loudly under my feet. My leg swung back in preparation to kick it out of the way, but before I could bring it forward to make contact with the obstruction, the rock moved. I swear it did. I'm not even kidding.

I put my foot down and stood there, in the middle of the road, staring at the rock. It moved, I assured myself. I'm not going crazy. As I stared, four legs popped out of the rock, followed by a small brown head. It scuttled away quickly.

Maybe I am going crazy. The rock-creature had moved to the side of the road, where it now stood, staring back at me with wide eyes. I stared back at it, the same wide-eyed expression on my face.

I looked closer and noticed that there was a small patter on the rock—the creature's shell. A hint of recognition hit me, and I wracked my brain, trying to figure out where I'd seen this creature before.

It was an armadillo, I realized. I'd probably seen it on a postcard or something because I knew I'd never seen a real one. What a strange creature...

I drove away, shaking my head at the strangeness of this place. Ugly birds that wake you up every morning, food that had been alive a few hours before, huge barrels of hay in the middle of nowhere, and now moving rocks? I really would go crazy if I stayed here much longer.

By the time I got back to the farm, I could have sworn it was even hotter. I hung up the keys to the truck and went to the kitchen for some water.

"Nice day, ain't it?" my Uncle said. I stared at him, wondering if he was the one who'd gone crazy. He was wearing jeans, boots, a plaid shirt, and a cowboy hat. He looked like a character out of an old western movie. "Gettin' cooler every day," he continued, unaware of my disbelieving stare.

"Sure," I said, sarcastic. "Soon I'm gonna need a winter coat." I laughed at my own joke, but he seemed completely serious as he nodded.

"Yeah. It's s'posed to get down into the nineties next week."

I gawked at him now. "Nineties?" I repeated. "As in ninety degrees?"

He nodded again, as if this were perfectly normal.

Only in Texas, I thought as I stalked off to the guest bedroom.


5 reviews will get you another chapter. And this time I'm not updating until I have 5 in my inbox. So PLEASE review!! Even if you didn't like it. I know it was different from all of Jess's other dreams. I tried to add some comic relief in there, too, so let me know if any of it made you laugh. I'm kind of curious...