Page 30 of Parallel

She sighs. “Yeah. Me neither. It seemed so real too. My blood pressure started dropping and you shouted at the doctor to give me something. Levo…Levophed? Is that a thing?”

I can only stare at her. It’s the exact medicine I’d have used to treat her blood pressure in an emergency, something she’s highly unlikely to know. “This just gets weirder and weirder,” I reply, starting to move across the street just before we miss the light. “I know you don’t want to have these dreams, but don’t you think maybe there’s a reason you’re having them? The next dream you have might be the one that helps you make sense of all this.”

Her mouth purses. I wonder, fleetingly, what that mouth of hers would taste like—the cake she couldn’t bring herself to eat? Something better?—and it grates inside my chest, the fact that I’m never going to know. “Maybe, but I doubt it.”

I agree with her, but I’m still disappointed in her answer.

We reach the Metro far too soon. It had to be the fastest one-mile walk of my life.

“What line are you on?” she asks.

“I’m not,” I tell her. “I live back near the hospital. I just didn’t want you walking here alone since it’s getting dark.”

Something pained and wistful passes over her face. “Thank you,” she says quietly, going up on her toes to press her lips to my cheek. She smells like oranges and sunshine.

I watch her step onto the escalator and remain there until she is out of sight, wondering if this is what it’s like for my brother. If he’s somewhere in the world cataloging all the experiences he’ll never have too.

Meg is waiting in my apartment when I get back, which leaves me feeling guilty and irritated simultaneously. I hope some time away from Quinn will make my feelings for Meg return to what they were, but right now they are nowhere in sight. “Hey there. I didn’t think you were coming over.”

She shrugs. “I figured once I move in, we’ll have to get used to working around each other’s schedules, so I might as well stay here anyway. Have you eaten?”

I set my keys on the counter. “No, but I’m pretty beat,” I tell her. “You want to rent a movie and order in?”

“We could,” she says, crossing the room toward me. “Or we could do something else.” She goes on her toes to kiss me, her fingers pulling at my tie. “We haven’t been alone in forever.”

I know what she wants and for literally the first time in my adult life, I can’t. I know I’ll be picturing Quinn, and that when it’s done, I’ll feel like I’ve cheated on Quinn and Meg, as insane as that is. My hand gently circles her wrist, staving her off. “I did something to my back swimming this morning,” I lie.

“I could do all the work,” she offers.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her. “I really don’t feel great.”

I watch Meg walk away, the rigidity of her spine the only sign of her displeasure. I need to get my head straightened out fast, or I’m going to lose the good thing I have—Meg—for something that isn’t even an option.

I spend the entire weekend trying not to think about Quinn. I spend Monday thinking of reasons I could call her, when I should never have called her last Thursday in the first place. My role as her doctor had basically ended at that point.

But there are no words for how pleased I am when she calls me instead.

“How’s Darcy today?” she asks.

“I just saw her wandering around the hospital in her cape. It really cheered her up to have you there last week. Thanks for coming by. You’re at work?”

“Yeah. My boss is out,” she says, “probably buying Dalmatians for her next fur coat, so I’m able to actually place a personal call.”

I like the idea of this being a personal call more than I should. “Dalmatian fur is way too hot for D.C. in the summer.”

“You can never plan your fur coat purchases too far in advance.” We both laugh and there it is again—this sense of ease in our conversation I don’t have with other people, not even friends I’ve known all my life.

“So, I was thinking,” she continues. “Both of my seizures, or whatever they were, seemed like they were triggered by that house at the lake, the one that might be your parents’. I was wondering if I could see a picture of it?”

“Sure, but why?”

She sighs. “I don’t know. I’m just wondering if it’ll help me remember something. Obviously, I can’t stop the dreams, but maybe if I can figure out the significance of the house, or at least get used to seeing it, I can stop passing out every time I’m there.”

Because of her wedding. It’s funny how I keep forgetting it’s happening, and how I flinch each time she reminds me. “Sure. Hang on.” I quickly swipe through my pictures, send one and then wait while she pulls it up.

“Oh,” she whispers.

“Is it the same house?”