Luminosity (Gravity Series #3) (The Gravity Series) by Abigail Boyd Read Free Book Online Page B

back on the bed, sitting on top. “Shut up.”
    “Wow, you’re cranky in the morning.”
    I squinted at the alarm clock. “Middle of the night. Not my morning.” I pulled my hair back into a messy ponytail and took a drink of the stale water on my nightstand. My throat felt as dry as a desert, raw and sharply painful as I swallowed.
    “So, what was your nightmare about?” Jenna asked casually—too casually—as she strolled around the room.
    “Why is it important? It was just a nightmare,” I muttered defensively.
    “Normal people have nightmares. You have signposts to the afterlife,” Jenna pointed out, cradling the back of her head in her hands.
    I let out a deep sigh. There was no way I could keep this from Jenna, who saw through me like cellophane.
    “I’ve been dreaming about the Dexter Orphanage again,” I said in an unsteady voice. I left out the part about Ambrose for the moment. It felt weird even bringing him up, since they’d had a complicated relationship.
    Jenna didn’t look very surprised. “More than once?”
    “This is the second one…at least, that I can remember.”
    “Why do you think you’re dreaming about it again now?” she asked. She leaned towards me, eying me hesitantly.
    I’d thought about that quite a bit after the first dream. Now with this second episode, I was riddled with confusion. Why did I need to follow the dog? The dog was definitely the source of the tugging urge that had coaxed me inside, and following him was not an option. But what would I find when I caught up to him?
    “I saw that evil dog again. I felt like there was a leash around my neck, and this force inside Dexter was tugging it,” I met Jenna’s wide, inquiring stare. “That’s got to be dangerous, right? I can’t go back there in real life. Who knows what kind of structural damage the place sustained. It was never very safe to begin with.”
    “Good point. Still…”
    “Still what? What if John Dexter’s evil spirit is trying to lure me into a trap?”
    “Okay, but playing devil’s advocate, what if it’s something important?” Jenna asked. “What if there’s a good reason why you’re having these dreams?”
    “Then I’ll wait and see what the dreams tell me.” I softened a little, looking at her conflicted expression. “I know I promised you I’d find out the truth, and I will. But I don’t think it’s smart to jump right into danger. I’m trying to get better about my impulse control, remember?”
    “Good luck with that,” Jenna said, smirking. “Okay, I’ll practice patience. But don’t be afraid of the dream. Try to realize that your body is safe outside and follow where it’s trying to take you, instead of having to be dragged.”
    ###
    I was screwed. Due to a mixture of insomnia and my own stubbornness, I’d never gone back to sleep. I didn’t want to be back inside the stifling interior of that awful place, especially if it was going to catch on fire again. What if the dog was just leading me in circles?
    I’d used up my tricks to stay awake during class. Now, in the warm, quiet detention room, I felt my eyelids turning into lead weights. I shut my eyes and felt darkness overtake me.
    I couldn’t stop running. Through winding corridors, I followed the dog. Urgency spurred me onward. I couldn’t stop or slow down to catch my breath or I would lose the trail.
    I snapped awake as my head bobbed down, glancing around quickly in case anyone had noticed. Charlotte Gary, one of Hawthorne’s private punk selection, was using a rusty switchblade to carve an anarchy symbol into her desk. Her hair was a blend of black and blue spikes, complementing her fierce scowl and dark green trench coat. There were only two other students in detention, both boys who were staring off into space.
    The teacher, a pencil thin, pretty woman, casually sauntered over and ripped the switchblade out of her hand. She glared up at the teacher, her lips twisting into a sneer.
    “C’mon,