I walked out of the shop, unsure what had just happened. I looked at the crystal scorpion amulet I’d purchased, using up the last of my Euros. The proprietor’s broken English had confused me, but he seemed earnest enough to be genuine. At least, that’s what I told myself so I wouldn’t feel ripped off.
I figured even if it wasn’t really a charm that’d give me better luck with women (and what were the chances of that?), it was a very pretty trinket—a worthwhile souvenir of my time in Africa, as well as a reminder to not let myself get hustled like that again. But there were those other things the guy had said...
I checked my watch—there was at least another hour of “free time” in the marketplace before we had to meet up with the tour guide again. I dropped the last of my American money on some food from a street merchant—I didn’t examine the food too closely, but whatever the meat was, it was delicious. Food in hand, I decided to wander around. Maybe I’d run into some of the other students on the trip.
I turned a corner and caught a flash of blonde hair out of the corner of my eyes. Almost immediately, I recognized the voluptuous curves of one Valerie Kindle, the walking wet dream that had joined the student trip. She was walking down the winding African streets, lugging a couple shopping bags. “Hey, Val,” I called, but she didn’t seem to hear me. I was a little tired of being lost, so I picked up my pace, almost trotting so that I wouldn’t lose her. I clutched the amulet in my free hand, waving it at her.
All of a sudden, the crowds parted before me. They began to point at me and mutter, but I didn’t know any language they spoke. Just fragments of broken words. Whatever it was, it made it easier to catch up to Valerie. “Val!”
“Eric!” She finally noticed me, and turned around. “Hey! What’s up?” She pulled me into a hug. Sticking out her bottom lip in the mockery of a pout, she added, “I was wondering if I’d see any of the rest of you guys. I thought you’d ditched me.” She winked elaborately to underscore her lack of seriousness. By this point, the street was nearly empty.
“Yeah, what was up with that anyway?” I shrugged. “I hope everyone else can find their way back. I know I’m lost.”
“Oh I know where we are, don’t worry about it.” She smiled reassuringly, then, and I stopped worrying about it. “So, Eric, what’d you buy? I found a beautiful rug and even some clothes that don’t look like burkhas.” She held up the two large bags she was carrying. “Of course, they charged extra for the bags.”
I laughed. “Not much, really. Just something to nibble on.” Taking the last bite, I added, “Oh yeah, I got suckered into buying this, too.” I held up the sparkling bauble so she could get a good look. “It’s supposed to give me good luck with women.” Jokingly, I added. “Think I’ll get lucky?”
Val’s eyes seemed to have gone glassy. “Get lucky,” she repeated in a breathy monotone.
I looked at her, worried. “Hey, are you okay?” I grabbed her and shook her a bit. “Val?”
In that same breathy voice, she intoned, “Okay? You’ll get lucky.” Then she blinked, and looked up at me, life in her eyes once again.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she said with a tone of voice that said duh. “Why are you shaking me, anyway? I’m sure you’ve got better things to do with your hands.” She winked—and this one wasn’t the elaborate, exaggerated kind. “Let’s see what you bought later. We’ve got an hour, I’m sure we’ve got better things to do with our time.” By the end of that little ramble, she was starting to rub up against me like a dog in heat. I didn’t know she had it in her.
I started to say “Are you sure you’re okay?” but she smothered my words with a kiss. I looked at the amulet in my hand, mouthed a silent /thank you/ and then quickly shoved it in my pocket before it could get lost.
“I’m more than okay, sweetie.” She started dragging me towards one of the alcoves in the now-abandoned streets, dropping her bags. “Now I’ve got something else for you to nibble on.” She pulled off her shirt in one fluid motion, her bare bosom buoyantly bouncing in delight. I reached my hand out, not believing what I was seeing. Valerie arched her back in anticipation.
But before I could touch them, my groin started to burn as if it was being licked by a flame. My legs buckled, and suddenly I stumbled. It was only the walls of the narrow alleyway that held me up. “Don’t worry,” Valerie said, licking her lips. “I can make that better too.” She was falling to her knees and reaching for my belt when the pain overwhelmed me.
Zoners
Chapter 1: Awakening
Somewhere in the Mediterranean: Thursday Afternoon
I hit my head on the top of the berth as I jerked awake.
At first I wasn’t even sure what was happening. That dream was one of the most vivid I had ever experienced, and I was dazed from both the sleep and the bump on the head. Then there was the pain—I couldn’t feel or move my legs at all, while my entire pelvis was not only flooded with pain, but gyrating as well. And by the looks of it, I was erect.
I obviously couldn’t get up to find someone, and I was too confused to cry for help, so I just whimpered for a bit. Everything was fuzzy and distant—the dream I’d woken up from still seemed more real than the berth I was twitching in.
Then things really became surreal. My curtain drew back to reveal Marissa—one of the teacher’s assistants—with no top other than a plain white bra. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I can make that better.” It was clear from her eyes what she was referencing. She climbed up beside me and licked her lips.
I was getting very confused now, and feeling very exposed. As she pulled the curtain shut, I shifted uncomfortably. “M...marissa? What are you doing?” My pelvis was slowing down, and the pain receding, but my legs were still numb—I was a captive.
She giggled, her two-toned eyes almost as glassy as Valerie’s in my dream. “Helping you get lucky, of course.” One hand started fiddling with my belt, while the other grabbed one of my hands and brought it around to her bra clasp. “Here’s something you can do with your hands.” She winked at me, exactly like Valerie did in the dream.
At this point I figured it was either still a dream, or I was going crazy; this was just too weird. So I decided to go along with it, and started fiddling with the clasp. Edward’s jokes about practicing with mannequins started making sense as I struggled with it. We both managed to get them open at about the same time.
“Do you like what you see?” She wiggled a bit, showing them off, as she started pulling on my zipper. “Don’t think I didn’t catch you checking me out last week.”
And they were a nice pair, well-shaped and healthy. But they were a bit on the small side for her frame, and dreaming of Valerie’s impressive bust didn’t exactly help that impression. “They could be bigger,” I shrugged as I started touching them. “But they feel great.” Why worry about being rude if I was halfway to crazy-town?
“Could be bigger,” she repeated in that same breathy monotone Valerie did. Yep, still a dream. I was really going to need to have a talk with my subconscious one of these days. “Feel great.” Then she started moaning—apparently she enjoyed the gentle touch of a sculptor’s hands. “You like it when I do that?”
She purred like a cat in heat. “Yessss.” Then her hand touched my cock, and a jolt of electricity surged through me. That didn’t feel like a dream; it felt like my poor cock had been straining for hours. Of course, it had been a while... It felt too early to let it go, though. So I pulled Marissa closer, and gave her a deep kiss. She was an excellent kisser, but I kept my eyes open, looking into hers. The little shudder that mismatched pair of eyes gave me helped put off the explosion.
While we were making out, I kept toying with her breasts, molding them like clay. I guess she liked that. It wasn’t long before she started shuddering all over, whimpering and moaning. In a more normal voice, she said, “Oh my GOD. I’ve never cum just from my boobs being played with before.” Now starting to stroke me faster, she continued. “Do that again!”
Her eagerness was a bit much, though. “Be gentler,” I scolded, whispering, trying to be as nice as I could. “It’s flesh and blood, not a piston.” I was happy to notice the feeling was starting to come back into my legs, but getting rubbed raw wasn’t very pleasant. At least it helped keeping me from going off.
“Oh, sorry!” She blushed, and started slowing down. “I’m supposed to be making it better, not worse.” Her smile got as naughty as I’d ever seen it. “Here, let me kiss it; maybe that will work.”
She must have been a contortionist in a previous life. These berths were designed for two people, but I don’t think they were meant to handle them in the way we were trying to fill the space. But soon, she was kissing my cock up and down its length. I finally exploded pretty soon after she took me in her mouth. The whimpering sounds she was making sounded like, if she hadn’t come again, she was enjoying herself almost as much. Things went kind of dark after that, but I’m pretty sure I remember cumming myself.
When I woke up the second time, I didn’t see Marissa anywhere. My shorts were unbuckled and pulled down to my knees, and my entire lower body felt tender and tingling. I was also feeling very relaxed, like afterglow. It was the most vivid dream I’d ever experienced, and apparently one of the hottest, too given how spent I felt.
“What the hell kind of fucked up dream was that, Eric?” I tossed and turned, trying to find a new comfortable position, muttering to myself. I wondered what made me choose Marissa of all people for a wet dream—she was nice, but not my usual type for that kind of dream. And that necklace was kind of unnerving too—a crystal Scorpio. I tossed and turned a bit, wondering what it meant.
I was laying on something that was making me uncomfortable, so I pulled it out—and came face-to-face with a familiar-looking plain white bra. It hadn’t been a dream after all. Well, at least the second part; I’d come to my senses enough to know that we hadn’t reached Tunis yet, and even if we had, Valerie wasn’t even on the trip.
“Okay, that’s it.” I pulled my shorts back on, grabbed the bra, and yanked back the curtain. More sleep could wait—right now, I needed to find Marissa. My head swam with questions only she could answer. “There has to be some explanation for all of this.”
I swung my legs over the edge, hopped off the bed, and crashed to the floor. Guess all the feeling wasn’t back in my legs just yet.
Somewhere in the Mediterranean: Thursday Evening
I staggered out into the common area, my legs still a bit weak, my groin somewhat tender. The sun was just touching the Mediterranean outside on the deck. It was a very pretty sight, but I only got to admire it for a brief moment before a strong hand grabbed my shoulder and started pulling me along.
“Holy shit,” Edward, one of my best friends and Marissa’s fellow TA, said as he started to maneuver me somewhere. “That IS a bra in your hand. You dog! I didn’t think you’d get lucky before me, even if I did decide to give you that head start.” I had no idea what he was talking about, but he was already going on, gesturing at my hand. “That’s Marissa’s, I assume?”
“What? Huh? Uh...?” I sputtered. “Um, what has she been saying, Ward?”
“Not much.” He shrugged. “At least, nothing I’ve heard. She’s locked herself in one of the bathroom stalls, I think she’s crying or something. One of the girls is in there with her.”
My jaw dropped.
“What I CAN tell you,” Edward added, leering, “is that she came out of that same door you did about fifteen minutes ago, and she wasn’t wearing a bra. Or a shirt.” He winked. “The only thing I know she’s said to anyone is your name.”
“Is... is she okay?”
“I’d hope she’s okay. Otherwise you need more practice.” I fended off an elbow to the ribs. “But I know that swagger anywhere—she left you weak in the knees.”
“Shut up, Ward.” Something he said finally clicked. “What do you mean, a head start?” It was a petty thing to ask, but at least it changed the subject.
“Well, I wanted to give you a shot at the girls on the trip before I ruined them all for you. So I decided to take a week off. It hasn’t been an easy six days, let me tell you. If not for the local girls...”
“Try six months,” I muttered. “Or six years.”
“Fuck that, Eric.” Edward said. “Look, the only thing keeping the girls from you is you. Uh-oh, incoming.” He grabbed the bra out of my hands and tried to hide it behind his back.
“I saw that,” Diana’s voice came from somewhere behind me, so suddenly that I jumped. “What are you hiding back there, Eddie?” Her voice sounded playful but I could hear the irritation beneath.
Diana was . . . well, beautiful in an almost surreal way, like an overly expressive doll. Her eyes were like glass, her face was almost too expressive. In some of the pictures I saw later, she looked less real, and more alive, than the people around her. I never quite figured out what color her hair was—it was long and golden, sometimes red, sometimes brown, sometimes blonde. She was slender, but muscled, and her small breasts were an almost perfect handful. I remember her telling me she was studying biology and anthropology. I never did find out what she was planning on doing with that degree.
Edward grinned another Cheshire grin and revealed the incriminating undergarment. “Can’t blame a guy for trying,” he shrugged, handing the bra back to me. “Sorry, dude, you’re on your own.”
I just shook my head at him—it seemed like everything Edward had done so far hadn’t helped. I guess I couldn’t fault his intentions, though. Still, I didn’t say anything until he’d left.
“What happened...?” I started, and at the same moment Diana was saying, “What did you...?” We both stopped. I gestured for her to go first.
“What did you do to Marissa?” She was looking angrier than I’d ever seen her. “And why the hell do you have her bra? Is it a trophy or something?”
I sighed, and slumped into a nearby seat. “Look, I was sleeping and then all of a sudden she’s climbing into my berth; I fell asleep again right afterwards. I thought it was a dream until I woke up just now and found the bra.” I was embarrassed about the dream, and confused about whatever it was that woke me up, so I kept my lips sealed.
“That doesn’t sound like Marissa...” she sounded dubious. Then the anger came back into her voice. “She was a virgin, you know.”
“She still is,” I said, wearily. “Unless something happened after I fell asleep. You think I’m not shocked about this? This is not the Marissa I know. I came out here to figure out why the hell it happened. I mean, I was asleep—it’s not like I was seducing her from my dreams.”
Diana dropped into the seat opposite mine, and stared at me for a few moments. I wondered if she was ever going to talk again; time just seemed to grind to a halt. “Well...” She shifted, uncomfortably. “Why didn’t you stop her?”
I held my head in my hand. “Like I said, Dee, I thought I was dreaming. It was all more than a little surreal. Still is, really.” I sighed again. “Is she okay? Ward said she’d locked herself in a bathroom or something. Maybe if I talk to her...?”
“I guess...” She shook her head. “But you can’t go into the women’s bathroom.”
“Oh really?” I stood up, a little shakily still. Diana stayed seated. “I don’t think there’s anything really stopping me.”
“Fine,” she sighed. “Go.” She was still sounding irritated at me, so I figured it’d be best to skedaddle before I made things any worse.
“I just want to make sure...”
Diana cut me off with another sigh, waving me off. “I know. Just go already.” I swear I could see a dark cloud forming over her head as I walked away.
Bobbie was at the door, acting like a gatekeeper, asking people to find another bathroom. She noticed me the same time I noticed her, and our eyes locked. As soon as she did, her expression changed, and she waved me over.
Bobbie was the girl-next-door type; she had dirty blonde hair. She wasn’t slim, but she carried it well, with quite a knockout hourglass figure. She also had a tendency to wear tops a bit too small; like her breasts were in denial at their size. We shared a birthday—nine years apart—and had decided to do a combined party during the trip. She was going to be turning 21. She was a creative writing major, had aspirations in becoming an author. We’d gotten to know each other over the past week.
“Eric, do you know what’s been going on?” Bobbie stage-whispered as I came closer. “Miss DeLuca’s flashed everyone, and now she’s crying and saying stuff about... wait a minute, is that a BRA in your hand?” From a whisper, she hit that high, loud note of ‘BRA’ pretty damned loudly. But for all she was shocked, she didn’t seem angry like Diana, just worried.
“That’s why I’m here,” I said. I was already getting tired of explaining myself. “Look, I went to take a nap, and then woke up to Marissa climbing in my bed, next to me, with her shirt off. I want to talk to her to get her side of the story so maybe I can figure out what’s going on.”
Bobbie just nodded, smiling—it was nice to know someone was willing to at least give me the benefit of the doubt. “You’re a good guy, Eric. I know you didn’t mean to do anything wrong.” Seeing the look on my face, she hastily added. “If you did anything wrong at all! I mean...” Then she blushed, redder than I’d ever seen her.
“So...” I said, drawing the sound out, giving her a bit of time to let the red fade from her cheeks. “Can I go in? I don’t think we’re going to solve this until we talk directly.”
“Yeah, I guess you can?” A nod. “Yeah, you can.” Another nod. “Definitely.” Bobbie smiled at me. “I mean, how else can we figure all this out, right? It doesn’t sound like Richelle’s getting anywhere.” A quick hug. “Good luck!”
I pushed open the door and hobbled inside. “I’ll do my best.” The door swung shut behind me.
The nice thing about a lot of public bathrooms is that their entrances are like airlocks. There’s the outer door, then there’s an inner door, leaving a weird little gap in between. This gave me a second to gather my strength, collect my thoughts, and feel the cold trickle of fear running down my back.
For a second there I was tempted to retreat—I mean, I didn’t really DO anything, did I? If she decided to climb into my bed and do all that stuff, it was her decision. Right? But then what about the dream and all that? It was too uncanny to be a coincidence. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, pushed away the fear and pulled open that second door.
Marissa had apparently chosen the farthest stall away from the door, and Richelle was sitting in front of it, leaning against the closed stall door. “Eric,” Richelle almost growled, looking up immediately as the door opened. “What are you doing here?” She got up and started walking towards me. “This is the girl’s bathroom you know.”
“Eric’s here?” Marissa sniffled, faintly.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him.” Richelle glared at me and kept marching closer, talking over Marissa’s fainter voice also saying...something I couldn’t make out. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just kick you out of here right now.”
“I don’t know, Richelle.” I just stared her down as she came up to me. “How about ‘Bobbie let me in’?”
I don’t think she was expecting that. She just stared at me for a second. “I’m going to have to have a talk with that girl.” Then she grabbed me by the arm and started turning me around. “Come on, you’re getting out of here. I don’t know what happened yet but I don’t want you here and I’m pretty sure Marissa doesn’t either.”
Richelle was naturally dusky—dark olive skin, black hair, and brown eyes. If I remember right, she later said she was half Hispanic, half Romanian or something like that. And she was short too—even in high heels I had to look down to catch Richelle’s eyes—which meant that, with her choice of tops, I often got quite a bit of an eyeful of a chest significantly larger than almost anyone else on the trip. I think she was studying physical education or something, hoping for a minor in theatre. Although Diana kept trying to set us up, she’d kept giving me a cold shoulder, looking at me like I was scum of the world. I got the impression the only reason she hang out with me was that I was friends with her friends.
“No,” came Marissa’s voice, from behind us. “I think he should stay.” Richelle and I both turned around to see Marissa standing in the doorway of the open stall, still topless. “He didn’t do anything, Shelly, I TOLD you that.” Her eyes were red and puffy from crying; she wiped her nose with a wadded up bit of toilet paper. Then she smiled at me, and giggled, wiggling her fingers in a wave. “Hii, Eric.”
I never described Marissa, did I? Marissa (or ‘Miss DeLuca’ to most of her students) was obviously of Italian stock, either a half-blood or full—she had an almost stereotypical set of Italian features, although her lips were full instead of a thin line. But it was her eyes that shook me—sure, she had a set of somewhat harsh features (I found out later half the students were intimidated of her) but her eyes were two different colors (dark brown and ice blue). She and I were almost the same age, she was already 30, I’d be turning on the trip.
I recovered quicker than Richelle. “Um, Marissa, you might want to put something on.” I held up the bra. “I don’t know where your shirt went.” Her nipples were starting to harden, but she started coming over.
“Yeah,” Richelle said. “Cover yourself up! You’re on display for just anyone to see again.”
“Not anyone this time,” Marissa blushed, and winked at me. “Just Eric.” But she started to put the bra back on.
Richelle looked back and forth between the two of us, obviously exasperated. “Okay, can someone explain to me what the hell is going on here?” Anger flashed in her eyes.
Marissa and I looked at one another; I think both of us were wondering where to start. She smiled a little bit and I couldn’t help it, I grinned as a chuckle escaped my lips. Marissa started giggling a second later and then I just started laughing. Soon we both were.
“Oh come on!” Richelle stomped her feet as she looked back and forth between the two of us, then she started to giggle herself. “Stop it, guys!” Giggle. Frown. Snort. “Really!” Finally, Richelle couldn’t hold on to her anger anymore, and fell to her knees, laughing.
I took the opportunity to sit down, too. Marissa kept standing. Holding in more laughter, I said, “Okay, I want to know what’s going on too. All I know for sure is that Marissa climbed into my bed and started making out with me. She was already topless, except for her bra.”
Richelle looked incredulous. “That doesn’t sound like the Marissa we know.”
“No, it doesn’t sound like me at all. But that’s what I did. And I’d do it again.” Marissa twirled her hair around one finger—a new mannerism. The only girls I’d seen do that recently were Bobbie and...
“Valerie!” I snapped my fingers, interrupting anything further Marissa might have said. The two girls looked at me. “Okay,” I said. “This is going to be a bit embarrassing...”
“Spit it out already,” Richelle said. Even if she wasn’t so angry, her patience hadn’t improved any. Marissa just stood there, looking at me expectantly.
“Well, just before Marissa climbed into my bed, I was having an.. erm... well, wet dream?” My face felt warm and red. “With Val as the star. When I woke up and Marissa joined me, I thought the dream was still going on. Just with a change of cast.”
“What’s that got to do with this?”
Richelle was shaking her head, but Marissa was nodding hers. “Um... was the dream in Tunis? One of those back-alley marketplaces?”
I looked at Marissa. “With a magic crystal?”
“That made me putty in your hands!” Marissa clapped with glee. “And in the dream you were using it on Val? Hot!”
Richelle seemed to be of a different opinion, but she only said. “And what? You two shared the same dream or something?”
“Nooo... I don’t think so.” Marissa was the one shaking her head now. “I was awake the whole time. But I remember the marketplace... and the crystal...” She started sounding dreamy, it looked like she was about to zone out, then shook herself. “I don’t know why. But it was after the crystal that I went to Eric’s bed, I know that.”
“And why did you come to me?”
A shrug. “It just seemed like the right thing to do? All I know is I’d do it again... we didn’t get to finish last time.”
“Marissa!” Richelle sounded shocked, and finally shifted off her knees to a more comfortable sitting position. “What about saving yourself for marriage?”
“I’m still saving myself.” She gave me a shy look. “Just not for marriage anymore.” Cutting off Richelle’s next question, she said, “I can’t explain why, it just feels right. I just know I’ll wait until Eric is ready.”
Richelle and I exchanged shocked expressions. She was looking for an explanation, and I had no more idea what was going on than she did. Or maybe I did?
“Okay, there’s one other kind of weird thing. I can’t really explain it, but it was out of the ordinary, you know?” Richelle must have been in shock—she actually let me ramble through all that without asking me to get to the point. “But just before I saw Marissa, just after I woke up, I had a seizure, I think.”
“You think?” Richelle said the same time as Marissa said, “Poor baby!”
“Yeah, I think. All I know is I woke up and my legs were kind of shaking, gyrating, and there was some pain. By the time Marissa got into bed with me I could barely feel them at all. I’m still kind of feeling aftershocks—at first I couldn’t move them at all. It’s never happened to me before.” I scratched my head. “I think it might have been what woke me up from the dream, even.”
“Yeah, but what could that have to do with anything? Besides, from my perspective you were feeling just fine.”
“Well...” Richelle said, and you could hear the skepticism and reluctance dripping from each word. “Dreams are caused by brain activity. And seizures are a kind of short circuit in the brain.” She was shaking her head. “But really, for this kind of thing to happen you’ve got to say there’s some kind of telepathy or psychic powers or something!”
I thought back to all the strange stories I’d heard as my years as an astrology buff. “I don’t know, I’ve heard a lot of weird crap.”
“Besides,” Marissa said, “I can’t think of any other explanation as to why I’ve changed.” She was twirling her hair in her fingers again. “There’s no RATIONAL reason for me to decide to save myself for Eric instead of marriage, but I know that’s how I am?”
“Great.” Richelle rolled her eyes at me. “You’ve got the power of mind control. Go ahead, make me do something.”
I laughed. “Look, it happened once, while I was sleeping, and I had a seizure too, or whatever it was. Maybe this is some kind of freak event that could happen to anyone.” I stared at her and made my voice go all Svengali. “You are getting sleeeepy. You are now under my control.” Grinning, I added, “See?”
Richelle wasn’t smiling back. “Okay... so why’d Marissa flash everyone else?”
Marissa was looking all sorts of flushed by now. “Well, Eric was so good in bed that after he fell asleep I was still in a kind of daze...”
Richelle looked at me. “Fell asleep?” I was too embarrassed to speak.
“Yeah, I went down on him!” Marissa licked her lips. “You should try it, Shelly.” She giggled, blushing. “He came so hard he was out like a light.”
“I don’t usually do that,” I added, but I don’t think either of them were listening to me. “Besides, I thought it was a dream.”
“No thanks.” Richelle shook her head, quickly and firmly. “How is this related to you flashing everyone?”
“Well by that point I’d already cum two or three times,” (Here Richelle snorted in disbelief) “and, well, I wanted to let him sleep, so I got up. I was so caught up in the afterglow that I totally forgot I was still topless until other people started looking at me.” Marissa was blushing really strongly now. “Exposing myself to Eric is one thing—exposing myself to everyone? Whatever mojo this is, it didn’t change me that much.”
“If it’s mojo at all,” I added. “I mean, how many of us have heard embarrassing stories from other students who went abroad?”
“Yeah!” Richelle seemed happy to find an alternative explanation. “Maybe this is all just psychosomatic. I mean, no offense Marissa, but Eric is kind of hot. If you like that sort of thing, anyway.” Now it was Richelle’s turn to blush, hiding her face behind her dark hair. What? I was confused but she didn’t stop. “It could be you just came up with a justification to do what you wanted to do anyway?”
“But what about the dream? And how we remembered the same stuff from it?”
I could answer this; I’d taken Psych 101. “The Jungian Unconsciousness? Or maybe more simply—how often do we remember dreams in detail? Maybe we just think we remember, but we’re just creating those memories as we share them.”
“I dunno,” Marissa started, but then the door opened and Bobbie poked her head in. “Hey, everyone okay in there? They’re about to start serving dinner.”
Richelle and I both turned to Marissa, who smiled. “Yeah, I think I’m good. Hey, could you go get my blouse before I leave?” While Marissa was telling Bobbie where she’d left her top, Richelle and I exchanged a glance. Though neither one of us said anything, we both understood that the whole “mind control” thing, or whatever it was, would stay between us.
“Sure thing,” Bobbie said. “Glad you’re doing better, Miss DeLuca. All of us out here were worried about you.” Then she flounced off to get the blouse.
Richelle said the obvious thing. “They’re going to have questions.”
“I already spilled my part of the story coming over—I was sleeping, then Marissa showed up in my bed and I thought it was a dream.” I pulled myself to my feet. “I can’t change that now.”
“Well the answer is obvious—I did something wild and foolish,” Marissa grinned at me, winking again. “And then I had second thoughts about it. It’s all technically true.” She shook her head in disbelief.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Marissa was going to keep it a secret too. Then Bobbie came back with the blouse, and after Marissa put it on, we headed out to dinner—Diana and Edward already waiting at the door. She whispered to me as she passed, her breath hot against my ear, “I’m still saving myself for you. We need to reschedule soon or I’m going to explode.”
Marissa didn’t give me time to reply; she just walked away, and up to Bobbie while Richelle gave me a questioning look. I shrugged back as Marissa asked the group, “So, do you guys think I’d look hotter if I went blonde?” A shiver ran down my spine, and I spent most of dinner trying to shake it off.