January Dreams by Carrigan Richards (best fiction books of all time txt) 📕

to finally talk to you. I never knew you hated me so much. I now know I’ve hurt you several times and I wish there was something I could do to make it better.”

“I don’t know what you can do. Just know it’s going to take a long time for me to trust you.” That’s not true. I’m giving him a hard time because I don’t want to let my defenses down.

“I understand.”

Wanting to change the subject, I ask if he did any of the assignment for English. We launch into a conversation that keeps us on the phone until three in the morning. He tells me about his desire to become a lawyer, and how he has it all mapped out. He sounds more OCD than me about school.

I love Vincent with all my heart, and I love getting to know Casper. I’m just not sure how much longer I can keep both of them in my life.

Chapter Twenty

Friday after school, Casper and I go to the library to do research for our poetry analysis. I’m reminded how easy it is with him. Like in our dreams. I have a date with Vincent later on and told him to meet me in the library. Despite enjoying myself with Casper, I’m looking forward to spending time with Vincent.

“I hate poetry,” Casper says and tosses a book aside.

“Why?”

“Because it’s pointless.”

“You like music, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

“That’s a form of poetry. Someone expressing their feelings and frustrations and worries. I mean, take Browning’s Sonnet 22. She’s talking about being intimately close to her lover with a burning passionate love and how their love was scorned but they stayed together no matter what. I mean, what’s not to like about knowing such love exists?” I look up and see him gazing at me. I feel my cheeks turn red.

“I really like learning about poetry with you.” He smiles.

I roll my eyes. “Let’s get this done.”

“Seriously. I’ve never known someone as passionate about this as you. I feel as if we’re really at that cabin in our dreams, while I listen to you read poems.”

“Do you think the library has anything on Sprites or Elves?” I ask, trying to veer away from the heated discussion. Or maybe it feels hot because I’m burning up. I can’t get over how close that sonnet is to mine and Casper’s dream story.

“I’m sure. It is a library after all.”

I playfully hit his arm as we get up and search the shelves. But all we can find are a couple of cartoonish kid’s books.

“They also have this thing called Internet,” he says.

“Don’t like the old-fashioned way of researching?”

“Maybe if we were in a decent library.”

“I started writing about the dreams.”

He studies me. “Really?”

“Yeah, like a story. I thought maybe it would help and I’d stop having the dreams. No such luck.”

“I didn’t know you wrote. That’s amazing.”

We find a few more books that are for adults and take them back to our table. Both of us thumb through trying to find anything about Sprites or Fairies or whatever. It’s kind of ridiculous if you think about it. I mean, they are after all, just dreams. But maybe it’ll help with my story research.

“Hey, look at this,” Casper says holding a book between us. I lean over, my shoulder touching his, and follow his finger over the text. “’Faeries possess great beauty and in the form of Sprites can be immortal. They have the ability to change forms and some have wings. Their biggest enemy is the Elves…” While he reads, I watch him. I watch his mouth move as he talks. He removes his finger from the book and plays with his hair. Being this close to him, reminds me of the day we hugged. How incredibly safe and comfortable I felt. My heart pounds as I wonder if his lips are as soft as they are in my dreams. I want to kiss him.

Someone clears their throat and I jump. I look behind me and smile, but my heart knocks into my chest. I feel like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t. “Vincent. Hi. Is it seven-thirty already?”

“It’s after,” he says with his arms folded in front of his chest. The severe look in his eyes is a little daunting.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” I get to my feet. “Let me change,” I tell him.

I grab my change of clothes and head to the bathroom. I lock the door and take a deep breath. I’m so flustered and I need to calm down. I change into a white sweater, a maroon wool skirt, and black knee boots. I touch up my makeup and glare at my discolored cheek. When I come out, I find Casper still seated at the table and Vincent a few feet away. Both of them smile, approvingly, which is a nice way to boost my ego.

“I’ll see what else I can find and bring it on Monday,” Casper tells me as I fill my backpack with my books. Vincent takes my backpack.

“Okay. Have a good night. See you Monday.” I wave and walk out with Vincent.

“I called you,” he says. “Didn’t you hear it?” I can tell there is an undertone of envy.

“My phone is on silent. I’m sorry. I really want to get the project done so I don’t have to spend another minute with him,” I lie. Truth is Casper is so easy to be around that it scares me. And that makes me uncomfortable.

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself just now.”

Is he really getting upset with me? I don’t know what I can do to make him realize I only love him. But why do I have to prove such a thing? “I’m being cordial toward him. That’s all. It’s easier that way.”

“I