![]() CHAPTER SEVENTY SIX ![]() She suffered from recurring dreams, usually the same three and generally they came two to three times per week. Two of them involved her parents and those were perfectly swell to wake from; except that waking from her dreams brought with it the stark reality that her nightmares were -- in fact -- horrid reminders of her miserable recent past. The third recurring dream was one she hated losing, even though she had the comfort of knowing she would have it at least once more in less than a week. They were visions of a future that could never be; sometimes brief snippets of a quiet night at home in Fenton Crackshell's arms. Or the dreams were like watching old home movies of the weeks she'd spent getting to know him after the incident at the high school gym. But they made her terribly happy. The type of happy that often bled into in the first fleeting moments of consciousness. This dream had been a big step away from the usual ones, and it made her more sad than usual to have lost it. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will herself back to dreamland. In dreams, her diminishing memories suddenly seemed so vivid. The most common recollections were of the last few days she'd spent in Duckburg. Could memories really be so sweet? Tegwen was starting to wonder if -- after so long -- her visions of Fenton were rosier because so much time had elapsed since she'd actually seen or talked to him. But when she dreamed of his visits to her home, they were of conversations that had actually taken place. Perhaps she'd imagined that he was attracted to her. While she didn't like thinking that way, she had to at least acknowledge the possibility. But Tegwen remembered shared giggles. Insignificant secrets, shy smiles they exchanged. Those few, rare moments when Tegwen completely forgot their age difference. When they were just two people who enjoyed each other's company and got along frighteningly well, as if they belonged together. Reminiscing to happier times, Tegwen realized she'd gleaned pathetically little about Fenton. If she had to do it all over again, she'd have done things differently. Initially, she considered her approach to their friendship. Being more aggressive might have worked. Or it would have succeeded in getting Fenton into whole heaps of trouble. No, Tegwen thought. If I had to do it all over again, I'd have left school with Kayla that day instead of going back to get Fenton's jacket. That was the biggest mistake I made that created this landslide of dreadful events. Ironically, the jacket she'd gone back to get from her locker was one of the last remnants of her old life. A life that -- as she lay curled up on a mattress in Megavolt's hideout -- seemed little more than a bizarre oasis among a desert of misery. "I know you're awake," Megavolt pointed out flatly. Suddenly, Tegwen felt something slap her arm through the protection of her fluffy blanket. She peeked over the hem of the comforter only to find a rolled up newspaper laying beside her on the floor. She guessed that had been what assaulted her through the comforter. ![]() go back | return to table of contents |
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