Free Dreams Don't Count by Xarth Page A

attempt to make
Tyler go away.
     
    "First, I could just make something up and you'd have
no idea if it was a real secret of just some random shit," he said.
"Second, I can totally see your panties when you lie like
that."
     
    I angrily sat back up and pulled my skirt back into
place to cover myself up. I'd been wearing the same skirt earlier
in the day, but somehow I hadn't realized that I was still wearing
it now, nor had I paid much attention at all to any of my clothing.
When I looked at Tyler I noted that he was wearing his outfit from
earlier today too. Weird perhaps, but not terribly important.
     
    "Don't look at my underwear," I said.
     
    "I didn't exactly mean to," he said.
     
    "Well... just don't. That's such a pervy thing to
do."
     
    "Yeah, 'cause that totally matters. I could do
anything right now and no one would ever even know."
     
    As if to prove his point he came right up next to me
and reached out toward my chest. There was no way in hell I was
going to let him grab my boobs, if in fact that was his intent.
Whatever the case, I fended off his attempt and punched him hard in
the shoulder for good measure.
     
    Then I woke up.
     
    I lay in the dark for a moment while my mind went
back over everything I could remember about the dream. It might
just have been a coincidence, but that had been the second time I'd
tried to hit Tyler in the dream, and both times I'd woken up
immediately afterward. If it worked every time, at least I'd have a
way to get out of there when I wanted to, so that was
something.
     
    I couldn't believe I'd dreamed up my brother trying
to get a feel in though, that was just weird.
     
    ****
     
    At breakfast the next morning things were pretty much
normal, even if they didn't feel that way to me. I kept glancing at
Tyler who was innocently sitting across from me. It was like I was
expecting him to do something strange for some reason.
     
    Both he and mom failed to pick up on my mood
thankfully, because I didn't want to have to make up a story for
why I was keeping my brother under surveillance. Mostly they
maintained a fairly constant conversation with very limited input
from me at any point. More than usual I appreciated the versatility
of a generic grunt when responding to questions.
     
    Finally, after far too long in my opinion, I finished
eating and left the table. I knew I had some stuff that needed to
be sorted out in my head, but I didn't have the first idea where to
start.
     
    ****
     
    "What the hell is wrong with me?" I said out
loud.
     
    I'd gone to sleep hoping desperately I'd wind up in
some random, relatively normal dream, but no such luck. I was stuck
with the dream version of my brother once again.
     
    "Maybe you just like me," he suggested.
     
    "Not this much. And not after what you tried last
time." I sighed heavily. "You know the worst part? This is
basically all something I'm doing to myself when it comes right
down to it."
     
    "Hey, I'm sorry about that, but I'm still pretty sure
this is my dream. At least that means you can blame it all on me,
right?"
     
    I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, why don't I just do that.
That's the way to prove to myself I'm not crazy."
     
    I sat down on the bed, noticing idly that the covers
still seemed to be a bit rumpled where I'd been lying last time.
Tyler stepped closer, but was apparently clever enough not to come
within arm's length.
     
    "Whatever you want to think, that's fine," he said.
"But I meant what I said before, it really doesn't matter what we
do while we're here. It's not going to make any difference in the
real world."
     
    "It makes a difference to me if I let my brother feel
me up, even if it's only in my head. Maybe it's worse if it's all
in my head actually, no one to blame but myself."
     
    "Why not just pretend I'm someone else? I'm only
imaginary anyway, according to you."
     
    "Oh, I've been trying to imagine you as someone else,
believe me. Pretending, well, that could work. Maybe. But I'm not
sure what I'd