Love Her Madly Read Online Free PDF Page B

mafioso.”
    â€œMaybe.” She studied my face. “Okay, full disclosure, there have been two suicides, but no one blamed them on the drugs.”
    â€œSuicides? Are you kidding me? Cyn—”
    She mockingly mirrored my horrified expression and fell backward on the bed, laughing. “Glo! No one commits suicide after a little smoke, okay?” She slowly pried a small plastic Baggie filled with something green out of her too-tight jean shorts pocket and tossed it at me. “Check it out.”
    I caught the bag and tossed it right back. She grinned, amused by my discomfort. My fears made me too spooked to even handle the Baggie, but inside, my curiosity was churning. I wanted to experience the strange visions and new perspectives that Cyn rhapsodized about. Also, pathetically, I was terrified tosuddenly be left out. If my friends were doing it, prudence be damned. I wanted in.
    â€œFine. I’ll try it. Then we can all jump off the bridge together.”
    Cyn smiled widely and crammed the Baggie back into her pocket. “So dramatic, Glo.”
    â€œAnd you have to look out for me. Make sure I don’t do anything stupid.”
    She opened her mouth to respond with the wisecrack that I’d carelessly set myself up for, but I was faster. “I mean too stupid. You know what I mean.” I shoved her, and she rolled off my bed and onto her feet.
    â€œSunset at the quad. Be there, and you’ll no longer . . . be square.”
    â€œGet out,” I said, tossing my pen after her as she darted out the door.
    After Cyn left, my misgivings began thundering away like jackhammers. I tried to finish the essay I was reading, but the words just blended together, my consciousness only tightening into focus when I’d think about sunset. I shut my eyes, hoping that a quick nap might clear my mind. Across the room, Annie had nodded off, the rumble of the air conditioner muting her soft snores. I turned my face toward the wall and tried not to think of anything.
    The dream that followed was as softly textured as a watercolor. I was by the bay, surrounded by people. Someone was repeating “Isn’t It Great?” over and over again until it seemed that Isn’tItGreat was the voice of the surf itself. A blond, Cyn-like figure appeared; her smile, when she flashed it, startlingly jagged and overly toothy. “Isn’tItGreat,” she hissed, before turning away and disappearing into the crowd. The faceless pastel throng that had surrounded me abruptly vanished, leaving just me and the flat silver sea. In a flash, the water surged forward,rushing around my ankles and quickly rising. It was astoundingly warm, and I felt pieces of slimy filament wrap around my bare legs as the tide rushed in. The water continued to rise, its surface churning with foam. I turned to look for Cyn but saw only tiny figures on a distant shore, miles of water between us. I wanted to yell out, but the roar of the surf drowned my voice. I wanted to move, but the water had stiffened around me like concrete. The sea rose to my neck, and then to my lips. A piece of driftwood appeared at eye level, rushing toward me on the tide. I watched in horror, unable to move as it spun wildly on a crash course for my forehead. I couldn’t duck, couldn’t even close my eyes. I stared in frozen terror, awaiting the devastating impact of coarse wood into flesh.
    â€œGloria! Hey. Gloria, wake up.”
    I opened my eyes and discovered Annie nudging my shoulder. I sat up quickly, the dream image of the log still careening dangerously in my mind’s eye. Annie was already backing away to her side of the room.
    â€œYou were having a nightmare,” she explained, redundantly.
    â€œYeah. I was. Thanks for the rescue. I think I was about to die.” I closed my eyes, struggling to review the dream images before they faded completely. “I couldn’t move, I couldn’t scream, and I was about to