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A knock at the door made me jump. I tried ignoring it, but the knocking didn’t stop, and every pound made my heart leap in my chest until I couldn’t bear it any longer.
I answered. Dorian stood there, his nose pink with cold, and his eyes rimmed with red.
“Dorian,” I said in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
He dumped my schoolbag at my feet without a word.
“Was I at your house?” I whispered. “Did I… did I fall asleep?”
His brows knitted together. “Asleep?”
“Never mind. Thank you for bringing my bag back. I… misplaced it.”
“At the side of the road?” he asked. “You just happened to drop it there?”
“I must be… forgetful.” My cheeks burned. “Thanks for returning it.” I made to close the door, but he held it open, and I couldn’t stop him, no matter how hard I pushed. So I stopped trying and glared at him instead. “What’s your problem?”
“Where were you today? You didn’t go to school.”
“What are you, my stalker?”
He sniffed the air. “Those clothes are too clean. Why did you change?”
I swallowed hard, taken aback by the questions and the fact he sounded close to tears.
“Just tell me what happened, Margo. What did you see? I know it couldn’t have been you. Itcouldn’tbe.” He sounded as though he were trying to convince himself. I just had no idea what exactly he was talking about. And that was worse.
“What couldn’t have been me?” I said. “Did you see me today? Was I… Was I awake?”
A car pulled up outside, and Dorian took a step back. “You’re upset,” he said. “But not upset enough.”
My parents got out of the car. Dorian took one last look at me. “I’ll see you at school.”
He walked off before I could form an answer. I had no clue what was going on. My parents greeted Dorian then came into the house.
“I waited for you after school for a while,” Dad said. “Were you out with Dorian?”
I had no idea. “What’s for dinner?” I asked to change the subject. “I’m starving.”
* * *
“I thought you were starving,”Mam teased as I pushed food around my plate.
“Eyes too big for my belly.” I still hadn’t figured out the conversation with Dorian, but I knew I had to broach the subject of sleepwalking with my parents. There had to be a reason for it, something understandable that would explain away the things that didn’t make sense.
“Everything okay?” Dad asked. “You don’t seem yourself today.”
“No, nothing’s okay.” I dropped my fork. “I woke up in the backyard today.”
“You were sleepwalking?” Mam’s face paled. I knew what she was thinking. We couldn’t afford to move again.
“There was dirt all over me,” I said. “And leaves, and… I was filthy, but I don’t remember falling asleep. I’m scared that I’m losing my mind, and I think Dorian saw me, and…” I looked at my parents. “What does it look like? When I sleepwalk?”
They exchanged a worried glance that chilled me. Something bad. It had to be something bad.
“You look like you’re awake,” Dad said. “But you don’t hear us, don’t see us. You’re focused on wherever you’re trying to go.”
“But why?” I asked. “Why am I always trying to go somewhere? How can I not remember?”
