start acting normal!”
“Don’t worry,” I told her. “I’ll be normal. As soon as we get home, I’ll be
as normal as a person can be!”
And I meant it.
When we arrived home, I kissed the front door! I was so happy. I’d only been
away for two days—but it seemed like two years!
Mom got to work in the kitchen, making a homemade pizza. My favorite food.
Mom puts lots of cheese on her pizza, and slices of hot dogs instead of
pepperoni.
She usually makes a pizza only on weekends. But today was a special day, a
day to celebrate.
Jeremy came over that afternoon. He apologized for hitting me in the head
with the bat.
I told him I didn’t even remember how it happened.
“I’m not sure, either,” Jeremy replied. “You were standing behind me. I
didn’t see you there at all. It was my turn at bat. I took a practice swing, and… BAM .”
I struggled to remember. But it didn’t come back to me.
“I’m really sorry, Marco,” Jeremy apologized again.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I told him. “Don’t blame yourself.”
“Maybe you knocked some sense into him!” Gwynnie replied from the den door.
“Get out of here, Gwynnie!” I shouted. “What are you doing out there in the
hall? Spying on us?”
“Why would I spy on you?” she shot back. “You’re too boring!”
I think Gwynnie has a crush on Jeremy. She’s always showing off when he comes
over.
“Mom rented some movies. We’re going to watch one now,” I called to her. “Are
you going to watch it with us?”
“Bor-ring!” she replied. But she plopped down on the arm of the couch,
anyway. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “What movie?”
I pulled out an Indiana Jones movie I’d seen about ten times. “This one is
cool,” I said. “Let’s watch it again.”
Mom usually doesn’t let us watch movies in the middle of the afternoon. She
says it’s bad for our eyes.
But today was a special day.
Homemade pizza and an Indiana Jones movie. It doesn’t get much better than
that—right?
The three of us sat in the den, eating slice after slice and watching the
movie. Mom kept interrupting every few minutes to ask how I felt.
Each time, I told her, “Fine.”
But near the end of the movie, my head started to ache. I felt tired and a
little shaky.
I decided I’d better take a nap. I said good-bye to Jeremy and told him I’d
call him later to go over our homework. Then I went up to my room.
With a weary sigh, I sat down on the bed and pulled off my sneakers. Then I
tugged down the covers.
I started to climb into bed—but I suddenly had the strange feeling I was
being watched.
I turned away from the bed—and saw a boy leaning in the doorway.
“Jeremy—?” I called out.
No. As he stepped into the room, I recognized him.
Keith.
25
I blinked once.
Twice.
Trying to make him disappear.
But he crossed the room steadily, slowly, his dark eyes locked on me.
“No way!” I cried, jumping to my feet. “You can’t be here! I dreamed you!”
“I know,” he replied calmly.
“I dreamed you!” I shouted. “And I’m awake now. I know I’m awake!”
I pinched my arm. I scratched my cheek.
“Ow!” It hurt.
I was awake. Definitely awake. Not dreaming.
“You can’t be here, Keith!” I repeated, my knees shaking, my whole body
trembling. “No way you can be here. I’m awake now. And you don’t exist!”
Keith stopped a few feet in front of me. “Sure, I do,” he replied. A smile
spread over his solemn face. His dark eyes flashed. “I live in your basement, Marco. You know that.
I told you that before.”
“But—but—” I sputtered. “You are not real. You were only in my dreams!”
Still smiling, Keith shook his head. “I’m real. Touch me.” He held out his
arm.
I hesitated. Then I reached out slowly… slowly… and squeezed his hand.
“Hey—!” I jumped back. He was real!
He laughed. “I told you.”
“But in my dreams…” I started.
“I used your
“Don’t worry,” I told her. “I’ll be normal. As soon as we get home, I’ll be
as normal as a person can be!”
And I meant it.
When we arrived home, I kissed the front door! I was so happy. I’d only been
away for two days—but it seemed like two years!
Mom got to work in the kitchen, making a homemade pizza. My favorite food.
Mom puts lots of cheese on her pizza, and slices of hot dogs instead of
pepperoni.
She usually makes a pizza only on weekends. But today was a special day, a
day to celebrate.
Jeremy came over that afternoon. He apologized for hitting me in the head
with the bat.
I told him I didn’t even remember how it happened.
“I’m not sure, either,” Jeremy replied. “You were standing behind me. I
didn’t see you there at all. It was my turn at bat. I took a practice swing, and… BAM .”
I struggled to remember. But it didn’t come back to me.
“I’m really sorry, Marco,” Jeremy apologized again.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I told him. “Don’t blame yourself.”
“Maybe you knocked some sense into him!” Gwynnie replied from the den door.
“Get out of here, Gwynnie!” I shouted. “What are you doing out there in the
hall? Spying on us?”
“Why would I spy on you?” she shot back. “You’re too boring!”
I think Gwynnie has a crush on Jeremy. She’s always showing off when he comes
over.
“Mom rented some movies. We’re going to watch one now,” I called to her. “Are
you going to watch it with us?”
“Bor-ring!” she replied. But she plopped down on the arm of the couch,
anyway. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “What movie?”
I pulled out an Indiana Jones movie I’d seen about ten times. “This one is
cool,” I said. “Let’s watch it again.”
Mom usually doesn’t let us watch movies in the middle of the afternoon. She
says it’s bad for our eyes.
But today was a special day.
Homemade pizza and an Indiana Jones movie. It doesn’t get much better than
that—right?
The three of us sat in the den, eating slice after slice and watching the
movie. Mom kept interrupting every few minutes to ask how I felt.
Each time, I told her, “Fine.”
But near the end of the movie, my head started to ache. I felt tired and a
little shaky.
I decided I’d better take a nap. I said good-bye to Jeremy and told him I’d
call him later to go over our homework. Then I went up to my room.
With a weary sigh, I sat down on the bed and pulled off my sneakers. Then I
tugged down the covers.
I started to climb into bed—but I suddenly had the strange feeling I was
being watched.
I turned away from the bed—and saw a boy leaning in the doorway.
“Jeremy—?” I called out.
No. As he stepped into the room, I recognized him.
Keith.
25
I blinked once.
Twice.
Trying to make him disappear.
But he crossed the room steadily, slowly, his dark eyes locked on me.
“No way!” I cried, jumping to my feet. “You can’t be here! I dreamed you!”
“I know,” he replied calmly.
“I dreamed you!” I shouted. “And I’m awake now. I know I’m awake!”
I pinched my arm. I scratched my cheek.
“Ow!” It hurt.
I was awake. Definitely awake. Not dreaming.
“You can’t be here, Keith!” I repeated, my knees shaking, my whole body
trembling. “No way you can be here. I’m awake now. And you don’t exist!”
Keith stopped a few feet in front of me. “Sure, I do,” he replied. A smile
spread over his solemn face. His dark eyes flashed. “I live in your basement, Marco. You know that.
I told you that before.”
“But—but—” I sputtered. “You are not real. You were only in my dreams!”
Still smiling, Keith shook his head. “I’m real. Touch me.” He held out his
arm.
I hesitated. Then I reached out slowly… slowly… and squeezed his hand.
“Hey—!” I jumped back. He was real!
He laughed. “I told you.”
“But in my dreams…” I started.
“I used your
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