CHAPTER 13
Holding tightly to her bookbag, Maria raced down the hall. Of all days to oversleep! But she'd had very little sleep on Friday night, what with the whole dreamwalking thing, and on Saturday her nerves had kept her awake for much of the night. After her talk with Michael on Sunday, she'd headed home, only to fall soundly asleep on her bed, script in hand. She'd slept deeply for twelve hours, only rousing as her alarm went off--for the third time. Groggily, she shook her head. Darn those snooze alarms anyway.
She practically ran through the empty halls, not even pausing at her locker on her way to Mrs. Gideon's English class. If she didn't stop, she'd only be a few minutes late...
"Nice of you to join us, Ms. DeLuca," the teacher said dryly as Maria stepped inside the room, all eyes on her. Well, most eyes, anyway. One pair of brown eyes remained fixed on the desk in front of him. Uh-oh. Was that Michael back again? Was everything they'd talked about yesterday a big waste? Or a dream? What--
She realized that Mrs. Gideon was still standing at the blackboard, looking at her. "Sorry," she muttered, and headed for her desk, only to trip on someone's backpack. Catching herself before she could fall, she sank slowly into her seat, red-faced, trying to ignore the muffled snickers around her.
"As we were discussing..." Mrs. Gideon went on, going back to her lesson plan. Maria pulled out her notebook and a green gel pen and pretended to take notes, in reality not paying any attention whatsoever. What a way to start the week off. She hated Mondays. The only thing that could make this morning worse would be a...
"Pop quiz," she heard. Oh no. She sighed as the quiz papers were passed out, but picked up her pen and dutifully tried to remember what she'd read of Hamlet on Saturday. It was more than she'd expected. Evidently dreamwalking-and-Michael-induced insomnia was good for her study habits, because she actually knew most of the answers. Maybe this day was looking up.
She gave a little half-smile as the bell rang and the quizzes were collected. Shoving her notebook and pen back into her bag, she turned to see...
...Michael. He was there in class, actually looking at her, in front of God and everyone. He wasn't bolting out of the room to avoid her, like he'd done since the start of the school year. She froze, the half smile pasted on her lips, until he nodded. Then she began to get the feeling back in her limbs and was able to move once more. She flashed him a cheeky grin before dashing out the classroom door.
She hadn't imagined it after all. He wasn't himself yet, but he was trying. Just catching her glance--voluntarily, yet--was a start. Swinging her bag over her shoulder, she bounced happily on her way to her locker. Liz was there, waiting.
"Where were you this morning?" the dark-haired girl demanded. "I expected to get a call from you yesterday, or at least see you before class."
"I know, I know," Maria answered. "I overslept."
Her friend studied her. "You look pretty chipper, 'Ria. How did it go?"
"How did what go?" Maria responded innocently.
"You know, the talk with Michael. Did he listen to you? What ha--"
Liz's voice cut off abruptly as she caught sight of a tall, spiky brown head moving through the crowd in the hall around them. She stared as Michael saw her and nodded, coolly saying, "Hey," before continuing down the hall.
Maria watched in amusement as Liz turned from the retreating alien towards her, a stunned look in her eyes. She tried to hold it in, but a smile burst its way across her lips. "Oh, do you have a lot to tell me," Liz admonished, seeing the happy glint in her eyes.
"I know, chica," Maria answered, her eyes dancing.
"So is everything--"
"No," Maria interrupted. "He's still doing the road show of Jeckyll & Hyde. I'll tell you all about it at lunch, okay? I've already been late to one class today."
"Sure," Liz said dubiously. "But you're not getting out of it any longer than that."
Maria nodded, and then finished dialing her locker combination. She swung the door open, intending to stash her copy of Hamlet. Instead, she paused and curiously eyed the folded paper that was lying on top of her French textbook.
"Okay, Liz, who's been slipping notes into my locker?" she asked.
"I don't know. It wasn't me."
"Well, there's one way to find out," said Maria cheerfully. She unfolded the sheet of notebook paper and stood staring at it blankly.
"What?" teased Liz. "Somebody leaving you love letters?"
Maria gave a shrug, and said, "Nope. It's nothing. See you at lunch?"
Smiling, Liz nodded and headed down the hall. Maria looked once more at the paper before refolding it carefully and shoving it into her bookbag. Her mind elsewhere, she headed to her next class.
Max sat back on the bench and eyed Maria thoughtfully. "So, the hole in the invisible barrier is still there," he mused.
Maria nodded, ignoring the uneaten lunch on the table in front of her. "So it would be easy to dreamwalk him and pull him out. No wall to break down this time," she pleaded. "I want Michael back. You want Michael back. Even Michael wants Michael back. So let's just go in and get him out already!"
"We still don't know why you got trapped there in the first place," pointed out Liz. "I don't think we should risk it again until we know more."
"Liz is right," Max said. "It's too dangerous."
Maria threw her hands up in protest. "I can't believe you! We are so close to having him back, and you're still letting some trifling notion of possible danger stand in our way? I want Michael back! Now!" she cried.
Isabel spoke up. "Maria, can I talk to you for a minute?"
"Go right ahead. Whatever you have to say can be said in front of everyone," Maria insisted stubbornly.
Isabel hesitated and said, "We all want Michael to be himself again. But do you think that maybe you're letting your feelings get in the way of your common sense? I mean, just because he's back won't mean that he'll be with you." She flushed. "I'm not saying that because I...It's not...Look, I don't go along with the whole destined mate idea. Michael is my brother. I just don't want you to get your expectations up. I don't want you to get...hurt," she finished quietly. Alex met her eyes and smiled. The others looked down at the table, not wanting to cause Maria any more distress.
Maria looked calmly at the taller girl and spoke. "Isabel, it's not that. Yes, he's hurt me in the past, and knowing Michael, he'll probably hurt me again in the future. But none of that's important right now. My friend--our friend--has a problem. We have to help. It's that simple." She locked gazes with Isabel and added, "Whatever Michael does or doesn't do after that is up to him. I can't force him to feel what he doesn't feel. I know that. But I won't give up what I feel, either. Not for anything."
"I'm not asking you to, Maria. I just don't want you to be hurt, that's all."
Maria smiled. "I know. Thank you." For a moment she allowed herself to bask in the warmth of this burgeoning friendship, and then she swung her gaze around to the others and said forcefully, "So are we gonna dreamwalk him or what?"
"Yes," said Isabel immediately, in support.
"We don't know enough," warned Max. Liz nodded in agreement.
"Well, it's two to two," said Maria. "Alex, your thoughts, please?"
The gangly teen looked up from the bottle of root beer he'd been toying with. "I don't know," he admitted. "I know I was all gung ho when we needed to get Maria out, but now I just don't know." He saw Maria frown and explained, "I want to help him. I just don't know if we should do any more tramping around in his head without him agreeing to it."
Maria pounced on the idea. "So if he'll agree, then you'll agree?"
Alex slowly nodded. "Yeah."
"Then it would be four to two," Maria said. "Fine. I'll get him." She stood. "He's sitting on the other side of that tree across the quad."
"That is still so weird," complained Alex. "That you can just feel where he is."
"Yeah, I can," said Maria, straight-faced. "But I also saw him go over there a few minutes ago!" She grinned and ducked to avoid his crumpled-up napkin. "We'll be back in a minute."
She headed determinedly across the quad, her steps almost as light as her heart. Get Michael over there, get him to agree, and this could all be over tonight. Things could go back to normal. Whatever normal was. She was halfway across the quad when she heard, "Hey Maria!" and felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning, she found Mark Blumenthal smiling at her. "You up for some extra rehearsal after school? I'd like to go over the scene we blocked on Friday."
"Sorry. I have to work today," she responded.
"The Crashdown, huh?"
"Yep. Look, I'm sorry to rush off, but I've kind of got to talk to someone," she said distractedly. "I'll see you at rehearsal tomorrow."
He hesitated for a moment, and then shrugged. "Sure. See you then."
She gave him a half-hearted smile, her attention already zooming back across the quad. Her feet soon followed. She walked quickly up to the tree and stood next to it for a moment before clearing her throat. Michael, who had been staring at some unknown spot in the distance, looked up at her.
"Hey," she ventured, giving their usual greeting. He watched her, not speaking. "We need to talk to you for a minute."
"We?" he asked hoarsely.
"Yeah. Everybody. We're working on a plan."
He raised one eyebrow, but when she said, "Well, come on," he got to his feet and followed her back across the quad. Reaching the table, he looked around for a moment before saying, "Maxwell. Isabel. Everyone."
Max didn't waste time with pleasantries, and got right to the point. "Michael, we've been trying to decide how to help you. Since you say there's still an opening in the wall within your mind, it might be possible to go back and finish what we started on Friday. But we have mixed feelings about it."
"You have mixed feelings, Max. Mine are perfectly clear," Maria burst out.
"What exactly is it that you want to do?" asked Michael calmly.
"Have Isabel take me into your dreams again. Pull you out. I can do it, I know I can," she insisted.
"No way," Michael said without hesitation.
"What do you mean, no way? I can do it!" she said, a little more loudly.
"Doesn't matter if you can. You're not going to," he replied matter-of-factly.
"And who are you to tell me what I do and don't do?" she hissed. "You may be the second-in-command of your little Czechoslovakian trio, but I am not in your army! I am a free agent, and I do what I want to do. Got that, buddy?" she yelled, poking him in the chest with a finger.
Michael caught her finger in his hand and looked down at her flushed face. "I believe I was the owner of my own mind, last time I checked. So if I don't want you rooting around in it, you won't."
"Owner of your own mind? Please! Who was it that got himself stuck there in the first place?" she said in frustration.
Michael's voice began to rise as he shot back, "And what? You think you could do better with it? If you had your way, all I'd have in my head would be bad pop music and stupid Aromatherapy stuff."
"It can't be so stupid--you have a bottle of it!" she reminded him hotly.
Alex, along with the other three, sat mutely watching the conversation escalate into a downright argument. It was both the same and different from the Michael-and-Maria squabbles they'd witnessed in the past. There was a brittle, icy edge to Michael's anger that seemed strangely out of place. But wait a minute. Anger? Emotion from the icy Michael? He groaned to himself. This wasn't going to be another channeling thing, was it?
He watched as Michael reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a familiar-looking vial. "This?" the alien shouted. "Fine. I don't have it any more, okay?" And with that Michael threw it as hard as he could across the quad. Alex mentally assigned him two points when it landed in an open trash can on the far side of the grass. Maybe Michael should try basketball.
He was pulled from this thought by a cry of anger from Maria, who, trembling with fury, swung her arm at Michael in an open-handed slap. Michael caught her hand a few scant inches from his cheek. For a moment, Alex thought Michael was totally going to lose it, but then the alien froze. Shutting his eyes tightly, he breathed hard for a moment before he seemed to regain control. He finally opened his eyes again and looked down at the red-faced girl in front of him. He was still grasping her hand in his, and he slowly released it. "No," he told her quietly.
Maria stared at him for a moment before turning sharply on her heel. Rushing to the table, she grabbed her bookbag with fumbling hands, dropping it on the ground in front of him and spilling its contents at his feet. "Dammit!" she muttered, and stooped to gather her things. Michael bent to help her, but a glare from her stopped him in his tracks. Thrusting her books into her bag, Maria said, "Liz, I'll talk to you at work," before bolting from the table. Michael watched her go, then turned resignedly back to the quiet group in front of him.
Liz and Max exchanged speaking glances and Liz rose, saying, "Let's head over to the library, Alex." He followed her, calling back over his shoulder, "I'll see you guys later."
Max turned to Isabel, concerned at her look of distress. He put a hand over hers and squeezed it comfortingly. "It will be all right," he told her quietly. "I promise." She gave a shaky smile back, knowing that some things were beyond his power.
"Michael," Max said, addressing his motionless friend, who was staring, eyes unfocused, into the distance. "Can we talk about this?"
Michael remained silent for a moment before replying, "I'm not ready, Max."
"All right," Max responded. "We'll give you some time." He rose to his feet, gathering his lunch trash, and looked down at his sister. "Coming, Izzy?" he asked gently. She nodded and rose, not glancing in Michael's direction, but then turned and walked to him.
"We're here when you need us, Michael," she said, and touched his cheek softly. Then she turned and walked away, her head held high. Max gave his friend one last sympathetic glance before he followed.
For a while, Michael didn't move, even when the bell rang to signal the end of the lunch period. Finally, he let out a deep breath, and lowered his head, tiredly rubbing the back of his neck. His eye was caught by a small piece of folded-up paper near his feet. It must've come from Maria's bookbag. He picked it up and began to shove it into his pocket, when some impulse made him stop and study it. It was a sheet of regular lined paper, torn from a spiral notebook. He unfolded it and looked at its contents. It was a sketch--a rather badly done one--but not so badly done that it wasn't clear who its subject was. It was Maria, and a dark, jagged X was scrawled over her image.
TBC...