Mira was waiting outside the school gates, her arms crossed and a knowing look on her face. The second she spotted me, she fell into step beside me without missing a beat.
It was drizzling as usual. For some reason the cold has never bothered me, but I've always hated the weather.
But then, there was nothing I could do about it. This was Washington after all and it was the beginning of fall.
"Okay," she said, dragging out the word. "What the hell was that?"
How was I supposed to explain why I flipped like that? Dragons had become a touchy topic ever since I started having dreams about them.
Especially after my parents just waved it off as my too detailed mind trying to feed my imaginations.
I sighed, rubbing my temples as we walked. "I don't know."
She arched a brow. "You don't know? Because from where I was sitting, it looked like you were about to rip Lucian's face off."
And to be sincere I would've if he had continued taunting me. But I guess what saved the day was the timely arrival of Callahan.
Thinking about Callahan brought back the memory of him telling me that I had detention the next day. It had bristling in annoyance.
"Yeah, well, he deserved it," I muttered. "He stole my sketchbook and decided to put on a comedy show about it."
Mira rolled her eyes. "You let him get to you way too much."
I agreed with her on that. That wasn't my style if I'm to be honest. I scowled. "I usually ignore him."
She smirked. "Yeah, and then you tried to strangle him in front of the whole class. Very subtle."
Of course she was going to jibw at me. I shoved her lightly, and she laughed, but then her expression softened. "Seriously, though. Why do you let it bother you so much?"
I hesitated. I hated when people teased me about my drawings—especially the dragons. It wasn't just a hobby for me. It was... more than that.
I didn't even know why it meant so much to me but I hoped to find out why I was having repeated dreams of golden dragons.
"I don't know," I admitted. "I just do."
It was like a part of me that I didn't want people to touch. It frustrated me that I didn't understand.
Mira studied me for a second, then asked, "Are you still having those dreams?"
I stiffened. My hands curled into fists at my sides before I forced them to relax. "Yeah."
Apart from my parents, she was the only other person I told that I had dreams about dragons. She tried not to talk about it with me, knowing how upset it gets me.
She frowned. "And? Have they gotten worse?"
Worse was an understatement.
A lump formed in my throat as I thought of how I was going to explain it to her. I swallowed it down anyway. "They're... different now."
"Different how?"
I hesitated. The dreams had always been strange, strong images of fire and scales, of wings that blocked out the sun. But lately, they weren't just dreams. They felt like something else.
Like memories. Memories lived. I didn't even know how I could differentiate the two. It was getting confusing.
"I don't know," I said instead. "They just feel real."
Mira sighed, kicking a pebble down the sidewalk even as she hunched into her sweater. "Did you tell your parents?"
I snorted. "Yeah. And they brushed it off. Said it was just my imagination."
Like they've always told me from the first day I told them about it. They always seemed to be trying to dodge conversations about dragon.
Mira muttered something under her breath. "That's so annoying."
"Tell me about it," I said. "But whatever, it's not a big deal."
I had long given up trying to talk about it with them. If they were adamant not to talk about it, then they can be my guests.
She gave me a look, one that said she didn't believe me, and I shrugged. I wasn't about to get teary eyed because my parents refused to indulge me.
We walked in silence for a while, the late afternoon shower dying the asphalt pavement a deep black. Then, Mira perked up. "So, what's the plan for tomorrow?"
I blinked. "Tomorrow?"
What was happening tomorrow. The only thing I knew I had tomorrow was detention I thought bitterly.
Mira huffed. "Your birthday, genius."
Oh. Right. I almost forgot. I shrugged. "I don't know. Nothing, probably."
Mira gasped dramatically. "Nothing? Are you serious?"
I laughed. "Yes, I'm serious."
What was she expecting? That I will through a big party? Even I decided to do that on honor of my big eighteenth birthday, who wanted to go to the weird girl's party?
She shook her head. "Unacceptable. We're doing something. Even if I have to drag you out of your house myself."
I smiled, but it didn't quite reach my eyes. Birthdays never felt like a big deal to me. It surprised me though that Mira had remembered.
But then she was the only friend I had in this school. We've been friends since we were in middle school even though nobody wanted to hang out with me.
Mira studied me for a second, then looped her arm through mine. "Fine, we'll figure something out later. But for now, I need to grab a few things from the mall. Wanna come?"
I shrugged. "Sure."
—
By the time I got home later that evening, the sky had darkened to a deep indigo, streaked with hints of orange. The rain had stopped but the roads were filled with puddle. The house was quiet, the porch light flickering slightly.
The second I stepped inside, I knew something was off.
My parents were sitting in the living room, their expressions tense. My mom had her hands clasped in her lap, her knuckles white. My dad sat stiffly, his jaw clenched.
I frowned, dropping my bag by the door. "Uh... what's going on?" I wanted to greet them but the look on their faces had me skipping it.
They exchanged a look that had my stomach twisting in knots. What's with them?
"Nova," my dad said, his voice careful. "Sit down."
A chill ran down my spine. I didn't move. I didn't even acknowledge his words. I was all too worried about what he wasn't saying.
"Dad, what's wrong?"
He hesitated, then exhaled slowly.
"We knew this day would come," he said, his voice heavy with something I couldn't place. "The day you turn eighteen."