Lucas Ryan Versus: The Hive (The Lucas Ryan Versus Series) by Madison Daniel Page A

back to the slender ghost at the foot of my bed. “What...I mean...who, are you?”
    “Just a dream,” she spoke, softly. I recognized the voice, immediately. I sat up in my bed, still tangled in my sheet.
    “Olivia?” I asked, in a loud gasp. She leaned forward, just enough for the overhead light show to reveal her familiar features. It was her. Olivia was in my bedroom. But why? What was going on?
    “Tell me. Tell me your secret,” she demanded. I watched her mouth as her lips moved in slow motion. Her eyes were blood red and filled with urgency. “I want to know your secret.”
    “What secret?” I asked, unsure. Thunder shook my room, but it didn’t sound right. It sounded synthetic, processed. Like a computer had created it. I glanced upward, to my invisible ceiling, and found that the stars were now sliding along the dark background. They moved slowly and unnatural. It reminded me of the surface of the stone in my locker. Same snake-like slithering. A large lump in my throat fought me as I tried to swallow it down. Olivia’s vampire stare found me again.
    “Tell me!” she screamed. Her face tightened into a grimace. The room fell heavy with her words. From the corner of my eye I could see that my computer screen had begun to pulsate with a golden yellow light, on and off, like a strobe light. My pulse doubled inside my chest. Within seconds I realized that the flashing light was mirroring my racing heartbeat. Quickly, I jumped from my bed, confused in this weird dream world. When I turned to confront Olivia’s ghost, she was no longer there. Sadness gripped me. If only I would have told her my secret. My impossible secret, and maybe more.
    “Olivia?” I called out, and my voice echoed throughout my room. My ceiling returned to normal overhead, movie posters and all. My computer screen fell back to its boring, black screen. No more magic. No more fantasy. Just me in my pajama bottoms and my cold, dark room. I felt confused and alone.
     
    ~ Pick me up. ~
     
    “Not now!” I yelled. I was sure I had said it loud enough to wake my parents.
     
    ~Tell her. ~
     
    Tell her. Like it was that easy. Tell her I had been hopelessly infatuated with her since we were in fifth grade. Tell her I had a growing, glowing, piece of rock that talked to me and knew her name. Yeah, right. I couldn’t deal with that voice right now, no matter how loudly it rang inside my brain. Olivia had been in my room and I had let her get away. Even if it was just a crazy dream. My hands found my throbbing head and squeezed tightly. I should have told her...everything.
     
    ~ Look behind you. ~
     
    I whipped around with my heart in my throat. She came back, I thought. I hoped.
    “Hello, Lucas,” Felicity said, with a large smile. “La, la, la, Lucas!”
    I jerked back, stubbing my heal on the leg of my desk. What was she doing here? Was I still dreaming? She watched me with a never ending smile painted across her face. She bounced up and down in the same spot, lifting up on the tips of her toes and back down again. Up and down, up and down, like a seesaw. Her curly hair pulled into two fluffy ponytails on the side of her head. She was wearing a dress that was much too young for her. It was something a toddler would have worn on her best day of Sunday school. My confusion was replaced by a new frustration.
    “Get out...of my...room,” I grumbled. She hopped forward once, with a goofy laugh, her arms folded behind her back. I took a short step backwards, nudging up against my desk.
    “What are you doing here, Felicity?”
    “I brought you something,” she giggled.
    “What are you talking about? Why are you in my room? And why in the world are you dressed like a preschooler?” I begged her. She threw her head back in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. Her pigtails whipping back and forth as if she were throwing a tantrum.
    “I brought you something special!” she called out, still laughing. Her eyes were gleaming with a