For Nevermore Season 1

she said.
    “Huh?”
    “I’m sorry.” She looked down and shook her head. “I’ve been acting like a bitch. I know it. I was mad at you for always taking Noella’s side, but then the more I thought about it, the more I felt like I was pushing you away, and how you’re right. We’ve been mean to her.”
    Sam had thought of a hundred things that Becca might say, but none derailed him as much as an apology. Had she known what he was about to do? Was she circumventing the breakup before he could say it? He didn’t know what to do, but keeping his mouth shut for the moment seemed like his best bet. He could hear her out and still break up with her once she was done talking. But if he spoke first, Sam would never be able to have his words back.
    “I felt so bad,” she said, “that I made this.” Becca waved a hand, ushering him to come closer and inviting him to look at her painting. “It’s not done yet, but I can’t wait. Not if you’re here.”
    Sam walked over, hesitantly, then saw what Becca had been working on . . . a painting of him. It was maybe 70% done, but was absolutely beautiful and looked an awful lot like his reflection.
    “Wow,” he said, struggling for the right words, “I didn’t even know you painted.”
    “Yeah, I used to paint all the time, but kinda gave it up for other stuff,” she said, pulling him toward her and holding his eyes.
    “Do you like it?”
    “I love it,” he said, heart melting at the warm reminder of why he loved Becca. She was never short of ways to surprise him. “It’s beautiful.”
    As Sam said beautiful, he was staring in her eyes; overwhelmed, emotional, and confused. “Thank you,” he said, and leaned in to kiss her.
    Their kiss lasted longer than he intended, and before it was finished, Becca pulled him closer, and wrapped her arms around his back.
    “I love you,” she said.
    Sam was speechless, unsure of what to say. So he said the only thing he could think of.
    “I love you, too,” he whispered.
    Sam was suddenly certain of two things. He wouldn’t make it back in time for dinner. And when he did, he would be in the same position as when he left.

    * * * *

CHAPTER THREE

    that night...

    Noella couldn’t find her father or Dante anywhere in her dreams.
    It had been more than a week since she had seen either in her night journeys, about the same period of time since Dante’s world had seeped into hers. She wasn’t sure if the two things were related, but the part of her that now knew centaurs were real was certain they were.
    Noella found herself returning to her childhood home each night, where she used to live on the beach with her dad. Yet, the house was always empty, echoing the emptiness inside her. Noella missed seeing her father and wondered why he had stopped showing up. It didn’t make sense. She had been seeing him nearly every night for a decade, so why had he suddenly abandoned her?
    “I need you, Daddy,” she said as she went into her childhood bedroom, then collapsed on her old bed, and curled her body into a comma.
    Noella needed her father’s advice. And while she felt ridiculous needing counsel from a dream figure that Dr. Foster claimed was most likely just another facet of her personality, she couldn’t help how she felt. Her father’s dream self had become almost as large a figure in her life as her real father. And now that he was gone, she felt deserted again.
    Noella lay in bed, rocking her leg, trying to fall asleep within the dream, as if it would somehow deliver her to a deeper layer where her father could be found.
    Her eyes closed as she focused on the surf’s back-and-forth lullaby drifting through her window and listened to the wind’s whisper turned to argument above the rolling waves outside. She loved the ocean’s music – one of the things she missed most about living in Aurora Falls. The rhythm of the rolling waves was calming, something she’d recognized even as a child, and could calm the turbulent seas inside her.

    Back and forth.
    Back and forth.
    Back and . . .

    Noella found herself standing beneath the full moonlight in front of an old, decrepit house in the middle of a thick forest.
    Where am I?
    The world around her was silent. No birds, no animals, no insects, as if someone somewhere had hit a cosmic mute button. Noella had the uneasy feeling that her slowly boiling dream was about to spill over with the white hot lava of a nightmare.
    Sensing this danger, Noella tried to wake up,