Page 28 of Ex Somnis

“Reading a passage of text twice, which shifts between readings in dreams. Checking the time on a clock or phone, which changes unpredictably in dreams. Perhaps the most reliable method is to pinch your nose closed with your fingers and attempt to breathe through it. In waking life, this is impossible. In a dream, the breath comes through regardless.”

I lift my fingers to my nose, pinch it closed, and try to breathe in.

Nothing.

The cold is real, the swing is real, and Jasper is sitting next to me, trying not to laugh.

“Waking life,” I say when I let go of my nose.

“Well, what else?”

“It could’ve been a dream.”

“You’ve been awake since four. You would know.”

“Or maybe, all of this is just woo-woo after all.” I drop my hand.

“You have to believe in it a little…” Jasper smiles, then glides a hand through his messy curls, “… for it to work. If you do the nose thing and then immediately tell yourself it doesn’t matter, it won’t matter. The point is to actually mean it. You have to want to lucid dream to be able to do it.”

“The woo-woo philosophy strikes again.”

“It’s not woo-woo. It’s just attention.” He sets the book on his knee. “You have to be willing to notice things. Most people aren’t.”

I think about the fairy lights, the swing moving, and her hands on my face.

I noticed all of that.

A lot of good it did me.

“I fell in love with my best friend,” I admit, because I have to tell someone.

Jasper exhales slowly through his nose. Not surprised. “Well, you didn’t even have a chance.” He shrugs.

“Cheers, Jasp. Really helping.”

“No.” He turns to look at me properly. “I mean, you literally didn’t have a chance. She was already written for you before you met her.” He reaches into his leather jacket. The cards are there. Of course, they are, and he pulls the deck out and holds it without opening it. “She’s fated in your cards and in your stars, Nev. The two of you. I saw it the week she arrived, and I’ve been watching it confirm itself every single day since.”

“That’s the woo-woo talking.”

“Did you know you were both born at four forty-four in the morning?”

I frown at him. “What does that⁠—”

“Four forty-four,” he cuts me off. “You and Lennon. Same time of birth.”

“Lots of people are born at the same time. That doesn’t mean…”

“It’s an angel number.” He turns the deck over in his hands. “The universe doesn’t do that by accident, Nev. You don’t share a birth time with your fate by accident.”

“My fate,” I repeat.

“Your fate.”

She’s way too good to be mine.

“Then why?” I question carefully. “Is she dating someone else?”

Jasper shifts. It’s a small movement, barely anything, but I know every version of Jasper that exists, and this one is the version that has information he’s working out how to deliver.