Read From a Dream: Darkly Dreaming Part I for Free Online Page A

Californian.” He pauses and studies me. “Oh, wait. That’s right. You come from the albino segment of Southern California’s population.” I reached out and smacked him on the shoulder. “Ouch! I noticed you stopped breathing when he walked in. Got a crush, Casey?”
    “Get real. I saw the guy for two seconds,” I lied through my teeth.
    There was no denying that the new student looked different . In addition to being gorgeous— I blushed again at the thought—he was unquestionably out of place. My stomach flipped as I recalled his image. Sean was right. He was tan, sort of. More like his skin glowed. Mesmerizing blue eyes. Flawlessly chiseled features like one of the models staring with smoldering intensity from a cologne ad.
    I frowned as I remembered my glimpse of the steely and determined expression that made him seem much older than a high school student. Undercover narcotics agent? I wondered. I was always making up strange little scenarios in my head. Most people would call it paranoia, but whenever I told my dad about them, he would laugh and say I should be writing down my ideas instead of telling him.
    “What?” Sean asked, studying my expression.
    “I was just thinking maybe he’s a narc.”
    “Could be …” he mused thoughtfully.
    “Hey, did you notice the bike in the parking lot this morning?” I asked casually, trying to change the subject.
    “What bike?”
    “The motorcycle. It kind of looked like the one that almost popped a wheelie in the intersection this morning.”
    Sean looked around the parking lot.
    “No bike here now. You sure it was the same one?”
    “I saw it a few minutes ago.” I pointed behind me. “Up there …”
    I bit my lip, feeling less sure of myself.
    Maybe it had been my imagination. Like everything else for the past two days. I was beginning to worry seriously about my mental health.
    “Well, let me know if you see the phantom motorcycle again. I’d like to take a closer look. That thing was awesome. An Aprilia. You don’t see those every day ‘ round these parts ,” Sean said, affecting a drawl.
    The bell rang, and we stood and began walking across the parking lot. Already guessing the answer to my question before I even asked it, I stared pointedly at Sean.
    “So, am I going to see you in Journalism?”
    “Maybe, maybe not. Blake said he would give me a pass to do some research for my article on vandalism, although I don’t think a stolen jacket and sunglasses constitutes a crime wave. But hey, I’ll take any excitement I can get. I was thinking of heading over to the sheriff’s station to ask about theft statistics.”
    “Fine, leave me all alone,” I sniffed dramatically before grinning at Sean.
     
    By the time I walked home from the bus stop at the end of the day, the door was unlocked, which meant my dad was home. Darcy raced downstairs to greet me, and I heard my dad’s chair roll back from the desk in his office. He didn’t go into school on Fridays, and he liked to joke that long weekends were the reason he became a professor—that and summers off.
    Friday nights were reserved for my “infamous” pasta sauce. Infamous because I used a lethal amount of garlic, my dad said. It was one of the only recipes I had perfected. My mom had been the real cook, and unfortunately none of her culinary talent had rubbed off on me. But my dad never complained about my limited talents in the kitchen, which was only fair since he burned anything he tried to cook.
    Our neighbor Mrs. Hendrix hadn’t missed a Friday dinner yet, and she always brought the ill-tempered and yippy little Angel with her. Since Mrs. Hendrix didn’t have any family close by, I knew my dad felt responsible for her. My grandma on his side had died before I was born, and Mrs. Hendrix’s family lived far away. Her son and daughter-in-law lived in Northern California and her daughter and son-in-law lived in Massachusetts. Her grandkids—she had five—were scattered all over, and