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    Despite our day off of school, there's not much to do. I try to go back to sleep but the storm is much too loud. Looking out the window reveals a lot more tree damage than an hour before. I resignedly get dressed and go back downstairs. Jonathan is sitting at the kitchen counter, reading.
    “ What book is that?” I grab a water bottle from the pantry.
    He doesn't look up. “Team of Rivals.”
    I make a questioning sound. He hears this and tells me, “It's about Lincoln, you geek.”
    “ Doesn't sound like I'm the one who's a geek,” I say under my breath.
    I'm about to go back to my room when Jonathan snaps his book shut and looks up at me. “We should talk.”
    “ What, about last night?”
    “ Yeah, that. And other things.”
    My hands tingle just a little bit. “Like what?”
    He's quiet for a moment. A branch snaps violently against the kitchen window, making me jump, but he acts like he doesn't even notice.
    “ What , Jonathan?”
    His long, slender fingers rub his eyes. Piano fingers, my mother had once called them. “It's about Luc as.”
    The branch hits the window again and this time I don't move. “You know something?”
    Jonathan seems to be debating whether or not to continue. After a moment he says, “I think you should stay away from him.”
    “ Why?”
    He looks down at the counter. “He's no t...”
    “ Not what?” My foot is actually impatiently tapping now.
    His eyes bore into mine. “Just tell me you won't go off alone with him again.”
    My foot stops mid-tap and my tension deflates. “That's it?” I guess I'd been expecting an explanation or something . But what would he know?
    Jonathan clears his throat uncomfortably and nods. “Last night is reason enough.”
    “ And what if it's me and not him?”
    He frowns. “You that's what?”
    I squeeze the plastic of my water bottle. “I mean, you know what I told you last n ight. All that stuff about Kelly and me, glowing lights, a dream... So what if I made what I saw up in my head? Maybe all of this is just, you know, a mental disease.”
    “ No,” he shakes his head. “You're not crazy.”
    The water bottle is almost flat in my hand now. “How do you know?”
    Now he's off his chair and next to me. He places his hand on my shoulder. “Because you're not, okay?”
    I look up into his clear eyes and the most frightening image of my life flashes through my mind.
    The corner of my mouth twitches before I can stop it.
    Jonathan drops his hand. “What?”
    Covering, I grin and shrug. “Nothing.”
    He points at me. “You know what? I'm not even going to ask. You and your jokes rarely make sense.” A forced smile crosses his face as he sits back down to read. Did he know...? No.
    My shock has grown exponentially by the time I get back to my room. I'd seen something when Jonathan had touched my shoulder. An image. An image of me , broken and bloody in what I assumed to be his arms. A blinding light. A hand laid ge ntly on my forehead. A dream, that dream...A sharp intake of air passes through my lips. The car accident. That had been real. And Jonathan had been the angel who saved me.
    The rest of our time together is spent in a sort of awkward, tense way. I know some thing; he knows I know something. I think we're both relieved when he leaves later that night.
     
     
     
    School reopens two days later, just in time for Friday.  Students halfheartedly make their way across the lawn to the large brick building. There isn't much s torm damage visible other than a couple boarded up windows and trash piled in random corners. All the remaining leaves have been torn from the trees. I jog up to Danielle, who is typing away furiously on her phone in the middle of the sidewalk.
    “ Where have you been?” I demand.
    She holds up one finger while she watches the text send. “Okay. Yeah, I'm sorry. I dropped my phone in the toilet and it died. I'm still trying to catch up on my texts. Forty eight whole hours without my phone, can