The Way This Feels

Chapter 16: Blaze

I'm in the cafeteria at school. The ceiling stretches at least 100 feet over my head, and bright white light pours in from the rafters, almost like being in a vast ornate cathedral. I have a tray, and I must have just got my food because I'm walking steadily into the forest of tables and chairs. Something feels off, fuzzy maybe, altering reality just slightly. The floor seems to slant downward so I'm walking downhill while looking for a place to sit. But my mind isn't quite equipped to wonder why the world seems this way, it looks enough like the cafeteria that I don't mind. Plus, I need to find somewhere to sit. That's the biggest issue here.

Right away I encounter a group of boys I might associate with, but their faces seem shrouded in shadow, although I definitely recognize a friend of Echo's, Stormy, at the end of the table. As soon as I'm seated, I'm comfortable, calm, like I belong here. I listen to them speak, and they seem to accept me.

The scene shifts. The cafeteria is gone, but I remain with the same group of boys. We're all walking through a neighborhood I don't recognize, school must be over, I sense a hint of warm evening sunlight, then the boys are sitting down around some kind of fire-pit, and they automatically seat me next to someone. They apparently choose the seat for me, next to Echo, who must have materialized with us, because I don't remember seeing him before now. It seems a very natural place for me to go, at least to the boys. Of course I would want to sit by Echo who they assume I'm close with. They wouldn't know of course that we're not together anymore. But in this altered state, I don't find myself all that concerned about this new development, I just take it as it comes.

He looks as he always does. Unlike in my mind, or when I have dreams about him and he sparkles and gleams unnaturally in the sunshine. In this moment he's very plain, almost washed out looking if I'm being honest. The sunlight glints off his hair which has faded to more of a blond, but it doesn't glow inhumanely.

And then I realize that I don't want to be sitting beside him. It takes a few minutes for this realization to come to me, but once it does it is the most dominant feeling to the entire scene. Everyone else sinks even further into the shadowed background, while Echo becomes more and more present. He's acting like nothing ever happened. Like we're still best friends. Like we're still together. In fact, I realize sickeningly, I have one arm linked casually around his, his hand resting on my knee. At one point he even leans forward and gives me a peck on the cheek.

It's that peck that plagues me. I can't get it out of my mind, I keep watching it over and over again from outside myself, him leaning in repeatedly and kissing me. I don't want to be back in this relationship. It took so much out of me to try to get away and heal from his rejection the first time, I can't just slip back into the pining. If he were to leave me again, I don't think I'd have it in me to grieve even a second more. And Micah! All the sudden I can't get Micah out of my head either. If Echo consumes all my time and mind like he did last time, I won't have Micah anymore. And I love hanging out with Micah so much. In the odd twisted logic of this reality, Micah can't coexist with Echo. That seems to be the tipping point. Despite the warmth of Echo's solid arm I'm holding onto that is taking the edge off the painful grief I've been subject to for so long now... I just don't think I'd be able to trade Micah for even that.

I jerk awake, bolting upright as I do every morning, the dream snapping out of existence as my eyes fly open to the streaming morning sunlight.

I feel funny. I don't remember falling asleep for one thing, and my limbs feel oddly heavy, my lips still tingling from what definitely is a sun burn. I also feel oddly nauseous, like that long dream and with Echo and confusing thoughts of Micah really took a toll on my physical body. I bend forward, resting my elbows on my outstretched legs, my fingers burying themselves in my still sandy hair.