Zac

Disorienting dreams continued to plague me each night. They played out like miniature movies in my mind. I didn't really understand them. But, sometimes, a few clicked in place. Shadows of the familiar. Wisps of the past, carrying thoughts and emotions that felt like mine.

Most of the time, though, they all felt like fucking omens.

***

I was in a car. Driving, driving, driving again. Looking for someone.

Who?

Virginia Esposito. Her name was Virginia Esposito. I was sure of it. I was trying to find someone named Virginia Esposito.

Why?

A brick-like Nokia phone chimed beside my regular phone. I glanced down to check the message. The number was blocked.

Why was it always an Unknown Sender?

***

With a jolt, I sat up in the darkness of my bedroom. A chill prickled my skin. Blood drummed against the pulse points in my neck as anxiety pounded alongside each quickening beat. I inhaled, exhaled, and tried to center my thoughts.

My dreams never made much sense. Every scene felt like muddled snapshots from someone else's story, but I couldn't bring myself to dismiss them. They felt quite real and very intense. I didn't know how accurate these quasi-memories were or why they only surfaced while I slept, but they felt significant.

Perhaps, my subconscious was trying to communicate what my consciousness had forgotten.

Or maybe I was simply going off the deep end.

With a sigh, I rolled over on my bed and attempted to go back to sleep. Cate would be arriving in New York later today for her competition. I was nervous as fuck to see her again. Excited, too, though. So fucking excited.

We were supposed to talk about everything this time. No holds barred. No distractions. No romantic dates at Central Park or epic make out sessions in hot tubs. I had prepared a list of questions for her. A part of me was ready to interrogate the hell out of babygirl while the other part of me only wanted to wrap her up in my arms and never let her go again. These opposing desires constantly warred within me. It drained me to hold back my feelings for Cate. It hurt like hell to push forward with my agenda, knowing that we were no longer together, but there was a terrifying restlessness inside me that couldn't rest until I found a way to soothe the noise.

Over the past few weeks, I had stumbled upon a few interesting discoveries on my own. After exhausting all my immediate resources, I decided to take a leap of faith and dive into the intangible pieces from my dreams as though they might lead to concrete answers.

I legit started searching for women named Virginia Esposito. On public record, there were three females with this name living in the state of Massachusetts. Two were over the age of eighty. One was in her forties. I assumed I had been looking for one of these Virginias right before my accident in Wellesley.

I found an online database for background checks—the ones commonly used by employers and landlords for potential hires or tenants—and ran reports on all three women. This was illegal, of course, since I hadn't obtained their permission to do so, but I hacked my way around that shit and took care to leave no trace of my SQL injection. Nothing on the profiles for the older Virginias held my interest. However, the report for thirty-two-year-old Virginia caught my eye. This Virginia possessed a criminal record.

She had been arrested on several occasions for drug possession and several more for prostitution. Naturally, this unsettled me.

If this was, indeed, the right Virginia from my memory-like dreams, then why the hell had I been seeking out a drugged-up prostitute?

In addition to my endless list of queries, I intended to ask Cate about Virginia Esposito. I wondered if babygirl would think I was crazy, chasing after a stranger's name from my subconscious as though it was a tangible lead?

I wouldn't blame Cate if she wrote me off as a lunatic. I was no longer wading in the shallow. I was definitely going off the deep end here, and I prayed that the drop wouldn't break me.

***

Around 10 pm, I headed over to the Marriott where Cate's speech and debate tournament was being held. Babygirl told me that she was sharing a room with three other girls. Their curfew was set at 11 pm. Cate was planning to sneak out to meet me. She assured me that her roommates could be trusted to keep their mouths shut.

The drive over felt dreamlike, unreal—even more so than my actual dreams—as though it was perfectly normal for a guy to meet up with his ex-girlfriend-slash-best-friend to talk about the very conspiracy theories and secrets that had broken them up in the first place.

I paid for parking and texted Cate from the parking structure: im here. meet in lobby?

She messaged me back almost instantly: Heading down right now.

Me: dont get caught

My Always: I never do. :P

Such a brat.

Still, her text made me smile. I hopped out of my car and hustled over to the hotel lobby. I waited by the south tower with bated breath.

A few minutes later, Cate emerged from an elevator. I drank in the sight of her. Those hazel eyes. That purposeful stride. Babygirl's face looked a bit thinner and paler than her last trip to New York. It worried me. Her oversized Emerson High hoodie and baggy pajama pants nearly swallowed her small frame, but she was still the most beautiful, fearsome thing I'd ever laid eyes on. My heart squeezed in my chest with longing.

Cate waved at me and smiled tightly. "Zac!"

She seemed a bit on edge. Just like me. I waved and smiled back awkwardly. "Cate." Babygirl.

Unease ticked between us. She cleared her throat. "Ready to do this?"

I gulped. "Yeah, did you wanna talk here, or..."

She glanced around the lobby. It wasn't overly crowded, but we were still surrounded by people. "Why don't go back to your car? I think I'd prefer to have this conversation in a more private setting."

I agreed with her. "Good call."

I led her back to the parking structure. As we walked side by side, not touching, I wanted to reach for her hand so badly, but I behaved myself. Boundaries needed to be respected. I fucked up our relationship. I wasn't about to fuck up our friendship, too.

As Cate and I settled into the backseat of my Audi, the space inside my vehicle suddenly felt too small to contain my high-strung emotions. We had about an hour or two before Cate needed to return to her hotel room. Her tournament started at 9 am, and I imagined even someone with an unstoppable brain like hers needed a few hours of sleep in order to function.

Inside the car, Cate scooted over to one end of the backseat while I sat on the other. Again, we weren't touching, but nervous energy buzzed between us like electricity.

Cate started, "I, uh, brought you something."

This immediately piqued my interest. I had just turned eighteen last month.

"What? A birthday present?" I half-joked and half-hoped.

"Not quite. Something better." She smiled wryly and, instead, produced a flash drive from her pocket and handed it to me.

My eyes flickered with shock. "This flash drive..."

Could it be the same one from my memories?

"This little fucker has everything you need to know about DBS-243, and all the parties that were involved with your dad's insider trading activities. Our time is pretty limited tonight, so I can't give you the full rundown. You can take this data and verify everything on your own later."

I eyed her suspiciously. "Where did you get this information?"

"From you, actually."

Shock continued to numb my senses. "What?"

Her eyes locked onto mine. "Well, we stole it together. From Walter Sinclair's computer."

My spine straightened up. I leaned towards her. Cate had officially captured my full, undivided attention.

I could tell that shit was about to get real interesting.