are you saying, Vee?”
“I thought I was dreaming about riding in a car, but this time I was driving . . .” My breathing becomes labored as I find myself living through it all again. “I pulled the wheel to the right and went off the road. Right into a telephone pole. Slammed my head into the window.”
“Wait. So you woke up driving your father’s car?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you think this is a symptom of your condition? Like sleepwalking or something? Sleepdriving?”
“It’s never happened to me before,” I say, pulling at the hem of my sweatshirt. “It was so strange, how I blacked out and found myself in the car. It was almost like—”
“Like what?”
I shut my eyes tight, knowing how crazy I sound.
“Like someone slid into me. Like someone forced me to get into that car.”
I can almost see Rollins frowning. He only recently learned about my sliding. I suppose it’s a little much to expect him to believe there are others like me out there, much less those who live in Iowa City.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” he says. “Don’t you have to be touching a physical object that someone’s imprinted on in order to slide into them? If what you’re saying is true, someone in this town with the same power as you would have had to touch something of yours to force you to take your dad’s car. And they’d need a motive to do such a thing. It just seems a little far-fetched to me.”
“I know it doesn’t make sense. It’s just a feeling I had.”
He rushes to say, “It’s not that I don’t believe you. I do. I’m just wondering if you’re misinterpreting exactly what happened tonight. I know you haven’t been sleeping well. Maybe you started to have that nightmare about Zane dying, but this time you acted it out. In your sleep.”
I think about it. Rollins’s explanation seems plausible, but I just know that’s not what happened. Something deep down inside me keeps insisting that I was manipulated somehow tonight.
“So how did you end up getting home?”
“That’s another weird thing. This woman . . . Diane, she said her name was. She happened to be driving by and she gave me a ride home. But . . .”
“But what?”
“But I don’t think I gave her directions. She just seemed to know where I live.”
Rollins digests this information. “Are you sure? You did hit your head in the accident, right? Maybe you forgot about telling her.”
“Maybe,” I say.
After getting off the phone with Rollins, I lie in bed with my eyes wide open for a long time.
I peek at my phone. The text is from Rollins.
U AWAKE?
My thumbs fly over the keypad as I respond.
YEAH. BE READY IN 10.
Rollins texts back that he’ll see me soon. I pull on some jeans and slide the phone into my back pocket before heading downstairs. I find my father sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper.
“How are you feeling?” he asks. “Do you have whiplash? Feel like you want to see a doctor?”
I grin. “I’m seeing one right now, silly.”
The anxiety in his eyes melts away, and he snorts. “Ha. But really. How does your head feel? Any dizziness? Nausea?”
Patting my father’s hand reassuringly, I say, “I’m fine. Promise.”
I sit down at the table, and my father pushes a glass of orange juice my way. I drink half of it in one long gulp.
“Well, I’m glad you’re okay. I know you don’t want to go to a doctor, but if this is a new symptom, we should really get you checked out. We can’t have you sleepdriving at night. You could have been killed.”
Sleepdriving. Is that even a thing?
“I seriously think it was a fluke, Dad. But if it makes you feel better, you can lock me in my room at night.”
He rolls his eyes. “I might take you up on that. Now can you tell me where I might find my car?”
“It’s a little off Highway 6. About five miles south of town,” I say, remembering the road signs I encountered on my hike.
“Ugggggggggggggggggggggggh.” My sister shuffles into the room, looking even more disheveled than I feel this morning. She must have been having nightmares about dead girls again. “Thank God it’s Friday.” Mattie grabs a coffee cup and fills it to the brim. I look on with envy. Perhaps I could have just a little caffeine to get through today. I’m operating on about three hours of sleep.
But before I have a chance to act on my impulse, I hear a car pull into our driveway, the radio so loud I can hear the opening notes of a Chevelle song from where I sit.
“Rollins is here,” I tell my dad. I gulp the rest of my orange juice and stand up. “Are you riding with us today?” I ask Mattie.
She nods and takes another sip of coffee before dumping the rest down the sink. Something in me dies a little as I watch the black deliciousness swirl down the drain.
“You sure you’re okay, Vee?” my dad asks.
“Yeah. Totally fine. If I start to feel sick, I’ll go to the nurse. Okay?”
Reluctantly, he agrees. I swoop down to give him a quick kiss and then dart out the door with Mattie following close behind.
Rollins doesn’t even wait for me to fasten my seat belt before he starts in on me. “How are you this morning, Vee? Are you sure you should go to school?”
Mattie drops into the seat behind me. “Dude, why is everyone so concerned about you today?”
Rollins throws me a curious glance. “You didn’t tell her?”
I shrug. “It’s not a big deal.”
“What’s not a big deal?” Mattie asks. In the rearview mirror, I see her checking her cell phone. She’s obviously very worried about my well-being.
“Oh, nothing. I just totaled Dad’s car in the middle of the night.”
I
