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“Because your house is funner.”
He laughs. “That’s not a word. It’s more fun.”
“Oh, stop acting like you know everything!”
“I know more than you. I’m a whole year older than you.”
I fling my pile of ruined daisies at him.
He throws them back, one by one. The last one, though, he tucks into my hair. “I think,” he says, “your name should be Daisy, since you’re always making crowns with them.”
I grin. “I’m the queen of the daisies.”
The dream shifts, and suddenly I’m at the lake by our parents’ homes. The sky is dark, and the air is chilly. I clutch the blanket and thermos I brought with me as I creep along the beach, following the boy with his head bowed low and his shoulders hunched.
He climbs onto a big rock, staring out at the waves, before I hear him sniffle. Then he buries his face in his hands.
“Blaze?”
He jumps. “Who’s there?”
I step closer to him. “It’s me.”
Relaxing, he says, “What are you doing here?”
“I... I didn’t want you to be alone. I brought hot chocolate.”
“You followed me?”
“Please don’t be mad.” I place the blanket and the thermos on his lap, and then I climb up next to him on the rock. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
He snorts.
“Stupid thing to say. I know you’re not. I’m sorry, Blaze.” I spread the blanket over our laps.
“She hasn’t even called,” he mumbles before sipping the hot chocolate. “I thought she cared, you know?”
“Yeah,” I say softly. “I know.”
He sniffles again, and then his face scrunches up. I take the thermos from him and set it on the rock behind us, and then I throw my arms around him.
“You’ll never leave me, will you, Daisy?” he says in between sobs.
“Never.”
And then the dream changes again.
I’m older, in a pretty blue dress, hiding outside my school’s gym while everyone inside is dancing and laughing.
“Hey!” There he is, this time in a suit. “Where’d your date go?”
I stare at the floor. “He ditched me for some other girl. I think I’m gonna go home.”
“Oh, absolutely not, Daisy. This is your junior prom. You’ve been talking about it for months. Don’t let some asshole ruin it for you.”
“But I’m so embarrassed. Is it because I’m not pretty enough? Not—”
“You’re perfectly pretty.” He takes my hand in his. “And now, you’re my date.”
