Free When the World was Flat (and we were in love) by Ingrid Jonach Page A

water and splashed me, making me squeal. He laughed as I splashed him back and as he did I knew it was a dream. Tom laughing? As if.
    I was scooping up another handful of water when he grabbed my arms and pulled me towards him. My heart fluttered as I leaned in for a kiss and, at that moment, I woke.
    I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to return to the dream. Squeeze. Squeeze. Squeeze. Damn. Damn. Damn.
    It had been so detailed that I could recall his scent and the scent of the lilies. I put my hand out in the dark, searching for the warmth of his body, but found only empty space instead.

 
    9
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    I took my time preparing for my date with Jackson on Saturday. Yep. You heard me. I had turned into Jo and was calling it a date, even though I knew our outing was for business, not pleasure. The thought of being picked up by a boy had my butterflies in a flutter. If it had have been Tom instead of Jackson I think I would have been completely carried away.
    My selection of “date” clothes was limited. I pulled on my good pair of jeans – dark blue denim with a skinny leg cut – and tried on the three tops I had laid out on my desk the night before.
    One was a white linen top with embroidered yellow flowers around the collar.
    â€œToo hippie-ish,” I muttered, throwing it back on the desk.
    Another was a pale pink t-shirt with a sketch of a donkey on the front. “Too casual.”
    The third was a crème-colored halter-neck top made from satin, which billowed around my waist.
    â€œHmmm…” I turned in front of the mirror. It looked good, but I pulled it off over my head. “Too formal.”
    I yanked open the window to check the outside temperature, holding out my hand and letting the sunlight warm my palm. I ended up pulling on the donkey T-shirt, deciding there was no need for a jacket.
    I applied my mascara and cherry lip gloss, and brushed my hair at least a hundred times before putting it up into a ponytail and then letting it down again. The girls said wearing it up showed off my cheekbones, but I knew it also showed off my pointy ears, which was why I let my hair hang straight, a hand-length past my shoulders day after day. It must have been a decade since my ears had seen sunlight.
    I checked my reflection again, tilting my head up and down, and pursing my lips as I applied another layer of gloss. I considered asking Deb for her concealer to cover my dark circles. Thanks to the nightmares, I was starting to look like a vampire.
    I called Jo for a pep talk, but there was no answer either at home or on her cell. I guessed she was at work and left a voicemail message asking her to call the cops if I was missing in the morning.
    Deb was sitting at the kitchen table, which was strewn with beads and gemstones and tangled heaps of fishing line. She barely batted an eyelash when I told her I was going out. I suppose I should have added “with a boy,” but I wanted to save myself a talk on Venus, the Goddess of Love, or worse, the Three Virgin Goddesses.
    Her eyebrows crumpled with concentration as she beaded. She had been commissioned to make fifteen necklaces for Tree of Life. I saw she was halfway through her first and was wrestling with a knot in the line, cursing under her breath.
    I decided to give her a hand, considering I had about forty minutes before my so-called date. I made a necklace with a mixture of clear beads and pink gemstones.
    â€œRose quartz,” Deb commented as I connected the clasp and held it up to the light. “The crystal of love.”
    I hesitated as she restarted her first necklace, wondering if she knew about Jackson. I held the necklace against my chest and turned to check out my reflection in a saucepan on the stove. Maybe I should wear it around Tom, I thought.
    This thought was cut short by a knock at the door. I peered down the hallway and saw my “date” through the front window. He was twenty-five minutes early.
    â€œI have my