I sat up in bed, sweating and breathing hard.

Where am I? I looked at my hands. I felt my face.
I felt very big.

I stood up and looked around. The vague beginnings of a sunrise dimly lit the room. The sheets on the bed were plain blue, and the walls were the same color as the bed. There was a mirror inset into the closet door. I walked over to it.

I screamed, and my voice was loud and squeaky like it couldn't decide if it wanted to be high or low. I ran my fingers over my cotton shirt, pinched the fabric of my basketball shorts--
Is this real?
Am I real?
What's going on?

The boy that was reflected in the mirror was me, black hair, almond eyes, not quite tan skin...
Kenny Walker.
The real Kenny Walker.

I felt like swearing, screaming, jumping, anything to get out of this dream.

Can dream errors have dreams?
Wasn't this what I wanted?

With horror, I realized that no, this wasn't what I wanted. I wanted to be a part of Alessandra, and her, a part of me, forever.

I wanted --

"Kenny? What's wrong?" Kenny's -- my -- mother walked into the room. She had on a threadbare faded robe and sunken eyes.

I was breathing really, really hard.

"Nothing," I said.
"Um, I think it's something because I don't know, you decided to shout and wake up the whole house!"
"I'm sorry. A bad dream." It came out more like a suggestion.
My mom squinted at me before turning to leave.
"You might as well get up, there's only thirty minutes before you have to wake up anyway."
~*~
I pulled on a red tshirt and jeans that I didn't realize until I looked in the bathroom mirror was the one I was wearing in the ballroom just -- was it really only days or hours or seconds ago? Tears sprang to my eyes. Kenny was not a crier. I couldn't cry.
~*~

School was boring. I had a bunch of socialite boys and popular girls gawking at my moodiness, and teachers questioned my quietness.

Also, Alessandra wasn't in any of my classes.

At first, I thought she was absent to appease my fear of any other fate, but in my last class, when we had a substitute call roll, Alessandra's name wasn't called.

"Hey." I leaned over to a boy who sat to my right. One of my "friends" but I didn't remember his name.
"I can't get another bad note from a sub, Kenny so I can't talk right now." The boy didn't look up from his homework.

I was silent for a minute.
"Do you know an Alessandra Mendoza?"
"Who?"
"Alessandra Mendoza. Big red hair, freckles, on the thin side?"
A glimmer of recognition swam across his face before disappearing. He looked confused, perhaps like a deja vu moment before shaking his head.
"Nah. Why, you got a new girl?"
~*~

"What's wrong? You've been really quiet today," my mom questioned. She swirled the wine in her glass over her hardly eaten dinner

"Nothing."

~*~

I knew how to get Alessandra back.
This, in all of Dream Error history, had not happened before, but I knew what to do.
I closed my eyes and went to sleep.