Page 172 of In Somnis

Yeah. Fuck all of this.

I crack my knuckles.

The kids go first. All of them simultaneously, desks and all, the whole laughing mass of them lifted and deposited cleanly through the window in one large, satisfying sweep. It helps. Not enough, but it helps.

Then the building itself. I find the seams of it and pull how you pull a loose thread, and the classroom comes apart at the edges. Walls dissolving, ceiling lifting, fluorescent lights flickering out one by one until the whole structure is gone.

Replaced by clouds?

Endless white clouds stretch in every direction. The floor beneath us is a cloud, too, but solid enough to stand on. Two swings hang from nothing, ropes disappearing up into more white.

Well, this is better than what was there.

I’m still angry. I’ll be angry when I wake up. I’ll probably be angry for a while about this, him, the fact he made me want it, and how close it came to landing.

But Nevan is still beside me, and Lennon is on the other side of my wall, and Paul is somewhere in this town being careful and deliberate about everything except himself.

I couldn’t live with myself if I took what he offered.

And I’m already struggling to live with myself on a good day.

Nevan is standing with the chalk still in his hand, staring at the space where the blackboard was, still in his underwear.

I study him for a moment, then dress him in sweatpants and a hoodie, because it costs me nothing, and some minimum standard of dignity seems like the least I can offer someone whose worst nightmare I accidentally walked through.

The moment the clothes appear on him, he looks down at himself, then up, and sees me.

“Ridge?”

Is he lucid?

“Nevan.” I straighten. “Long time no see.”

“Really long time.” He looks around at the clouds but is not particularly stressed about us standing around in them.

Not lucid then.

His brow furrows, confusion mixing with what appears to be concern. “I was worried about you.”

“You were worried?” I huff, caught off guard.

“Yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I liked working with you, man. You actually talked to me like I wasn’t an idiot, you know? Showed me stuff. Made the shifts go faster…” He pauses. “I even came by the Wells building to check on you, but nobody answered.”

Shit.

This kid, this guy, isn’t the bad guy. He’s probably a good guy. Way better than I am. But I’m here for a reason. Even if This Man derails said reason, I still want to know while I’m here.

I think Lennon into existence beside us, the best dream projection I’ve ever built, because I know exactly what she looks like now. Every detail. The blonde hair, the blue eyes, the beauty marks, the way she scrunches her nose, even the yellow nails.

Nevan turns, and his whole face lights up.

“Lemon?” He steps toward her immediately, reaching out. “You’re here too?”

What is it with men and their need to rename her stupid things?

He pulls her into a hug, and I watch his shoulders relax. “God, it’s good to see you,” he says into her hair. “Everything’s been so strange today.”

“Strange how?” I ask, keeping my voice casual.