Free Fallen Angel by Heather Terrell

crossed my arms tightly across my chest. How could he know about that promise unless he could invade my dreams—or unless the dream itself was real? And if the dream was real, then so was the flying. And so were the visions. But I couldn’t allow myself to play the thoughts out to their ultimate conclusion.
    I said nothing as he pulled out of my driveway and onto the street. We drove for several minutes without talking; my mind was whirring too fast for words. Could Michael really be right?
    Then, without averting his eyes from the road, he said, “I told you that the flying wasn’t a dream. It only seems that way.”
    “So your flight at Ransom Beach was real? And the flying in the dream last night was real?” I whispered aloud the awful truth. They weren’t really questions. Not anymore. But I was terribly confused. And afraid.
    “Yes, Ellie.” He reached over and held my hand. “We can fly. But I think it’s really hard for our minds to accept that. So when we venture out into the night on our flights—when our bodies are compelled to do what they are designed to do—our minds tell us that those flights are really dreams. Because to process them as actual flights would challenge everything we have ever known.” He paused and looked at me. “Does that make any sense?”
    “Sort of. But why was I able to wake up in bed this morning and not remember flying back from Ransom Beach last night, if the dreams are real?”
    “Probably because your mind wasn’t ready to deal with the truth. And if you remembered flying back from Ransom Beach into your bedroom window and sliding into your cozy bed, it might have made your flying undeniably real.”
    “I don’t know if I’m ready to deal with the truth now,” I whispered, half to myself.
    Michael gripped my hand tighter. “I’ll be here with you, helping you.”
    I gripped his hand back. “Did you go through all this?”
    “Yes. But then the truth dawned on me, and I could no longer pretend the flights were dreams.” He smiled. “Anyway, now I want them to be real. And you will too. You’ll see.”
    I felt sick to my stomach. This was all too much.
    Michael saw the scared look on my face, and paused. He said, “I know it’s hard to accept right now but you and I share some extraordinary gifts.”
    “I don’t know that I’d call them ‘extraordinary.’ Or ‘gifts,’ for that matter. I think scary curses might be a better word for them.”
    Michael laughed even though I wasn’t really joking. Once he realized that I was serious, he quickly matched my mood. “Believe me, I know they can seem scary at first. But I’ll be there to help you. At the beginning, I thought I was the only one with these powers, and it was really lonely.”
    A troubling thought occurred to me. “Is that why you sought me out? So you wouldn’t be alone in all this madness?”
    “No, not at all.” We were almost at school, and he pulled the car into a nearly empty parking lot adjacent to the school gym. He stopped the car, reached out for my hands, and said, “Ellie, I sought you out because I was drawn to you on every level. Not just because I saw that you were like me.”
    I took a good look into his green eyes, and he appeared sincere. I was relieved, but still not totally trusting. We’d been on a roller coaster since the moment we met.
    “How did you know that you and I shared these”—I stumbled over the description—“gifts?”
    “The first time I saw you, I wasn’t sure. You did seem different from everyone else; you had that glow about you. I’m sure you saw it from that flash I sent you. But on our first date, when I tasted your blood, I knew.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Your blood gave me the whole picture. It showed me your flashes and your flying. I saw that you had the same susceptibility to blood that I do. And it told me that you were trying to act as though it wasn’t happening. Instead, you’re clinging to this image of a ‘regular