Free Hidden Among Us by Katy Moran

get in, I wondered, how did the boy reach my room?
    It was a dream,
I told myself again.
It didn’t really happen. This just proves it
.
    But in the back of my mind, I saw the boy walking across the dark shadowy garden outside. Pausing in the rain. Waiting just a tiny second, then leaping high, high into the air with big bright animal strength, like a leopard, landing in a crouch on my bedroom windowsill.
    No, no, no,
I told myself furiously.
Don’t be so ridiculous. He didn’t come. You dreamed it
.
    I remembered the feel of his breath on my face, the faint scent of it, sweet and exciting.
Can you dream something like that?

16
Lissy
    By eight o’clock, I had dragged myself out of bed. Every scrap of my body ached and my head felt fuzzy, the room cold and gloomy. I grabbed the clothes I’d washed the day before, now tumbled-dried and left in a neat pile by my bag. Mum’s way of trying to make peace: old jeans, a polka-dot top, my favourite grey jumper with holes in the cuffs. I hooked my thumbs through the holes, trying not to think about him.
    We watched in awe as they multiplied and spread across the earth—
What was that supposed to mean?
    I was hoping to be first down. I couldn’t do much about the shattered window, but if Connie stepped on broken glass Mum would go over the edge. Connie’s never been one of those children who gets up super early, and anyway, I reasoned, she’d had a temperature; I’d go up to her room with my coffee and we could sit together. She still loved being read to, and I knew she’d have a huge bag of books with her, largely featuring princesses, dragons and, more recently, the occasional vampire. The worst thing about school was missing Connie. But when I reached the kitchen Joe was already there, standing awkwardly by the radiator. He was wearing jeans now and thankfully a t-shirt as well. I glanced at the table. The bottle of Calpol from Connie’s room sat next to a half-drunk cup of coffee, and one of Mum’s silk scarves had been left on the worktop near the cooker like seaweed washed up on a beach.
    Something was wrong.
    “What’s going on?” I said.
    Joe opened his mouth to answer but Rafe came in, still in last night’s clothes. Looking at my brother when you haven’t really seen him for a while is like being hit in the stomach with a football. Shining hair, bright as honey, golden skin, eyes like melted chocolate.
I want to eat him
, I once overheard Alice’s mother saying to one of her friends.
    He never gets up before twelve in the holidays.
    “Where’s Mum?” I asked. “What’s happened?”
    Rafe looked me up and down. I instantly felt very stupid. What had I done now?
Don’t
, I told myself.
Don’t let him make you feel bad
.
    “Just tell me,” I said.
    “Mum did try and wake you, Lissy.” Rafe looked at me with faint disgust as if I’d done something unforgivable. Something else. “Didn’t you hear the ambulance?”
    An ambulance. Cold panic shot through me. “It’s Connie, isn’t it? What’s wrong?” Connie had gone to hospital and I’d slept through the whole thing. I could have gone with them. I should have been there.
    “How weird you didn’t wake up,” Rafe said, quietly. “They think it’s meningitis. There was a rash. It means she’s got blood poisoning. That’s what they’re really worried about.”
    I didn’t know much about meningitis other than that you could die from it. Especially children.
    “Connie—” I started to cry. “Is she going to be all right?”
    Rafe just turned and went out of the room, leaving me with Joe, who I’d met precisely ten hours earlier. For a moment, we just stood staring at each other, unable to speak.
    “Don’t worry,” Joe said at last. “She’ll be OK.”
    “You don’t know that!” I snapped, and ran out of the kitchen, letting the broken door slam behind me.
    Stepping into my mud-caked boots and grabbing Mum’s waterproof from the back of a chair, I ran out into the yard, calling