“I love you, MJ.”
I see a smile spread across my face as I look at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. For some reason, it’s such a relief to say those words.
I have this strange feeling I missed my chance to tell him I love him. But I haven’t. MJ’s waiting for me at the table. I can go tell him right now.
I turn to dry my hands, and there, standing behind me, is MJ.
“MJ,” I say with a nervous laugh, “what are you doing? This is the ladies’ room.”
But he just stares at me, his eyes wide and his mouth open. He must have heard me—he heard me say I love him. We gaze at each other for a moment, then he smiles and wraps his arms around me.
My heart swells. I feel this sudden, overwhelming desire to hold him closer. I don’t know why, but it feels like an eternity since I’ve seen him.
“Let’s go dance,” I say.
MJ leans back, smiling down at me, looking at me with so much love that I never want this night to end.
“We are dancing,” he says.
We’re suddenly on the dance floor. Music fills my ears, and we’re swaying.
Everything is covered in fog. It’s hard to see through it, but we seem to be the only ones here. I don’t even see Dad’s band. But then where is that music coming from?
“Where are my friends? My father and his band?”
“I sent them all home. I didn’t want to share you anymore.”
I smile and rest my head on his chest, grateful to be alone with him.
But with each revolution, this odd feeling grows inside me—like I’m missing something. Something important. I hold MJ tighter and try to ignore it, but I can’t.
I break away from MJ, shaking my head. “This is wrong. I shouldn’t be here.”
But MJ just wraps his arms around me again, continuing our dance. “Nothing is wrong, Maddy.”
I close my eyes and lean into him, wishing I could just lose myself in this moment. But from somewhere deep in my mind, I hear words I said earlier today to Sissy in the mall: I feel like I’m dreaming, like this isn’t real. I feel like I’m actually somewhere else—somewhere bad—and I created this happy scene to cope with it.
Again, I push away and stop dancing. Panic fills me.
“No. I mean it. Something is wrong.”
MJ touches my face. “We’re together. I love you, and I know you love me too. Stay here. Stay where I can keep you safe.”
“No.”
I start marching back to our table, but the dance floor never ends. I stop and spin around. Every direction is dark.
“Where are we, MJ?”
“We’re together,” he says, pulling me back to him. “That’s all that matters.”
His essence picks up inside me, working to calm my rising panic. Once again, we begin to move, dancing to a song no one is playing.
This isn’t real. It can’t be.
This is a dream.
I did this. Something happened to me—something bad—and I created this to cope.
My heart aches so deeply that tears stream down my face. MJ wipes them away.
“Don’t cry, Maddy,” he begs. “Please.”
I stare into his hazel eyes, memorizing his face, feeling as if this is the last time I’ll see him. The tears fall harder.
“I’m sorry, MJ. I have to go. I love you.”
“No, Maddy. Just stay. I can’t keep you safe if you leave. I can here. I can love you. And you can love me. But only if you stay.”
“I want to stay,” I say. “I do. I don’t know what’s happened to me, and I feel like . . . if I leave, I might never see you again. But I can’t stay here. Staying here is giving up. I can’t do that.”
“Living isn’t giving up,” he pleads.
Tears pool in his hazel eyes as he stares at me with such despair that I step away.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “This isn’t real. You’re not real.”
Then I close my eyes, ignoring his desperate pleas. I have to concentrate and wake myself up.
I can do this.
As the fog lifts and I feel myself awakening, I hear someone take a breath beside me.
“Are you okay?” A familiar male voice cuts through the darkness.
I blink, adjusting to the light. Although it’s dim, it’s still a harsh contrast. A room begins to take shape, and foggy memories stream forward of being someplace new. Someplace dangerous.
I turn, and Justin’s lying beside me in bed.