I turn to face Parker. His intense, honey-hued eyes are focused on me, his mouth drawn into a straight line.
A glimpse into my future.His fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulling me toward him. The taste of his lips. Our bodies pressed together.
The heat in my face intensifies. She wants me to recount my intimate dream with Parker.Out loud.
“Anything you can remember,” Rose says.
This is ridiculous, but what if Rose is telling the truth? Wouldn’t it explain the familiarity I feel toward Parker and the reason behind my fiery dream? I shut my eyes and force the words out. “I have a dream, and in it I’m holding a flask.”
“A matte black flask?” Rose asks. My eyes snap open and I nod. “That’s Parker’s flask. Were there any other people around? Any buildings or landmarks?”
“No. We’re outside. We might be in a garden or a park. I’m not sure. I can never see past the wall of white.”
“That’s okay. What else can you remember?” Rose asks.
I curl the fabric of my jumper around my fingers. “Well, I’m there with Parker.” My stomach churns. He’s now frowning at his large hands, the muscles in his neck tense.Why is he nervous? It’s not like it’shissubconscious sex dream. “I have the flask in my hand, and as I pass it to Parker, I say—”
“Did Nickol kick you out again?” Parker says.
My head snaps up, my hands falling to my sides. I search his face, his dilated pupils boring into mine.
Thiscan’tbe real.
“Holy shit, Jimmy.” Rose smacks the tabletop. “How do you even remember that?” She leans forward, resting her forearms on the table. “What happened next?”
Parker’s eyes are glued to mine, stripping me bare. Is he, too, remembering the events that transpired? I’ve experienced this dream every night for the past two weeks.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited to be alone with you?”
His hand on my jaw, his tongue slipping into my mouth…
He looks away and shrugs, leaning back against the wall with his hands tucked into his pockets. “Nothing memorable.”
I flinch at the sting of his words. Is Parker embarrassed about what happened between us? Maybe it was a one-time thing?Of course it was.
“So, you’re saying every time I wake up with electricity in my body, I’ve been… time traveling?” I ask.
“Subconscious traveling. It’s a form of time travel. You’re there as an observer, and the people you’re observing don’t know you’re there. Think of it like watching a movie of yourself while dreaming. Your body stays where it is, but your mind travels to another place and time. It’s always within a personal experience, normally from your past.”
“And when you aren’t subconsciously traveling, can you go further back or forward than your own life?”
“No,” Rose says. “I mean, I did once by accident, but no one’s done it since.”
“How many different types of time travel are there?” I ask.
“Two,” says Rose.
My gaze slides between her and Parker. “Are you both asleep right now, in your own time?”
“No. Of course not. You can’t communicate with people in your sleep.” She gestures to her chest. “This is communicative travel, because you can see and hear us—” She cuts herself off and clicks her tongue. “It doesn’t fucking matter. There are two different types of time travel, the intricacies of which you’ll learn when you get recruited.”
The void in my stomach deepens.When I get recruited.
I swallow the lump in my throat, but it’s as stubborn as the information Rose is asking me to digest.
Time travel.
I don’t want this. I refuse to believe it. I don’t need another thing that makes me different. Something else impeding the ordinary life I’m fighting to build. The life my mother never had.
