Page 1 of Catching My Dreams

prologue

Ella left her body at exactly seven o’clock in the evening.

She felt the strange sensation that went hand-in-hand with spiritwalking, an uncomfortable stretching that always made her think of taffy being pulled. The feeling only lasted a few seconds, but it was long enough for Ella to shiver in her astral form. She looked down at the body sitting cross-legged on her bed and suppressed another shudder.

No matter how many times she’d done this over the years, it was still disconcerting to see herself like that. To anyone else, it would look like she was meditating. But the truth was far more unbelievable than a sixteen-year-old deciding to clear her mind and find inner peace before attempting her English assignment.

Ella’s ability had started in her dreams. She didn’t remember the precise moment or day when she realized all of her dreams weren’t actually dreams, but she would never forget the things she’d seen that cemented that realization in her mind.

Brett called her ability a gift, but Ella knew the truth. What she had was a burden—one she had never asked for and one she had never wanted. That hazy and colorless plane she visited while asleep was one of nightmares.

Only the things she witnessed weren’t figments of her imagination. They were all too real and all the more terrible for it.

At least her lack of control over where she went and what she saw while dreamwalking didn’t translate to this waking use of her ability, but there was something about using it that still felt wrong.

Maybe it was how she was invisible to everyone while she was on the spirit plane. Maybe it was that she was still only a witness to the world around her, unable to interact with both those who poisoned the world and those who were victims of it.

Brett was the only exception to that rule, but even his friendship had started to corrode what little joy Ella had found in the spirit world. It was a horrible thought to have about someone she considered a friend.

Ella had known him for five years, and in those five years, he had been the rock she hadn’t known she needed. He’d been the patient listener she’d relied on when she couldn’t turn to her best friend, Asher. He’d been the greatest friend she could ask for.

But recently, that friendship had turned into something else. She’d seen the disquiet in his light brown eyes when she’d admitted she had a crush on the very boy she’d spent hours complaining to him about. Though he didn’t know Noah by name, Ella had told him enough about the boy who’d been her friend before he’d become her tormentor. But Brett’s discontent over her crush didn’t come from a place of concern.

No, he’d been upset because he was jealous, something that became abundantly clear the following week when he’d tried to kiss Ella. And that kiss she’d pulled away from now sat between them like a ten-foot-wide wall. Today would be the first time Ella saw him since she’d rejected him, and the worry of how he would react to her presence sat heavily in her stomach as she stared at her corporeal body.

Ella was delaying. There was no use denying it. The awkwardness that awaited her two and a half thousand miles away in Brett’s home in Los Angeles had her hovering in her bedroom for far longer than she ever had before.

It was a testament to how much she didn’t want to lose her friend that she finally took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and pictured Brett’s lanky frame and pale face.

That taffy-pulling sensation briefly returned, ending before Ella could let out the breath she’d inhaled. When she opened her eyes, she found herself inside Brett’s bedroom. The boy who knew her better than anyone else leaped off his bed before approaching her warily.

Brett was the only one she knew of who could see her when she spiritwalked. He didn’t even need to be on the same plane as she was to do it because, unlike Ella, Brett could see and travel to countless planes. When she’d met him, it had made her feel like she wasn’t alone. Now, a thread of nervousness wound through her chest.

She’d understood her abilities well enough before they’d become friends, but Brett was the one who’d given her spiritwalking ability a name.

He was the one who’d taught her how to change the clothes she was wearing in the spirit plane with just a thought, though he couldn’t do the same. He was the one who’d taught her to focus on certain people or places before she fell asleep to lessen the chances of her seeing things nobody should ever have to see.

Brett had become a teacher to her, and for the first time, Ella didn’t like the dynamic it came with. She didn’t like the imbalance of power.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.” His voice held that deep timber of a boy who’d gone through puberty, and Ella found herself missing the voice he’d had when they’d first met—the voice of a boy.

Her lips twitched in an unconvincing attempt at a smile. “I always do.”

His shoulders lowered in relief at her words, and the strain on his face eased. “Yeah,” he replied with a grin that she knew well. “You do.”

Ella’s hands twisted together, uneasiness still dancing restlessly in her veins. “How are—”

“What do you—”

She laughed as their mingled words hovered between them, but the sound was forced.

“Why don’t I join you on the spirit plane, and then we can go to the Van Gogh Museum?” he suggested. “I know we were planning on traveling to New York next, but I know how much you want to go to Amsterdam.”

He spoke about going to Amsterdam without blinking an eye, but for the two of them, traveling to Europe was nothing new. They did it as easily as breathing, and their weekly trips were one of the only benefits of their abilities. They didn’t come close to making up for the things Ella saw in her dreams, but she knew how lucky she was.

Most people dreamed of traveling the world but could never do so. Meanwhile, she and Brett had been doing just that for years. They’d seen the Mona Lisa, been to the top of the Eiffel Tower, explored the Grand Canyon, and looked out over Cape Town from the highest point of Table Mountain.

Ella lived for those moments.

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