The Girl Who Could Not Dream by Sarah Beth Durst Read Free Book Online Page B

plopped into the first open seat, next to a sixth-grader she didn’t know. The sixth-grader hugged her backpack and scooted closer to the window, steadfastly looking outside and not at Sophie, but Sophie didn’t care. She’d made it to the bus. She was safe.
    â€œWow, was that the first time you’ve ever run?” It was Madison. Her voice was so loud that Sophie felt like someone was biting her ear.
    Other kids snickered.
    Sophie ignored her and them. Madison wouldn’t be laughing if she knew the dreamcatcher was gone—not that she knew it really held her dream.
    Looking out the window instead of at the other kids, Sophie tried to remember if she’d locked her locker before her last class. She always did. It was habit. But she didn’t have a specific memory of clicking shut the lock today. Maybe she’d forgotten, and that was how Mr. Nightmare had stolen the dreamcatchers. But why had he taken them? You couldn’t reuse a dreamcatcher, not without distilling the dream. Maybe it was a mistake, or a misunderstanding. As soon as she was home, she’d ask her parents—there must be a simple, not-creepy explanation for both the card and the missing dreamcatchers.
    When she reached her bus stop, Sophie bolted off, brushing past two other kids, who yelped in protest, and ran the entire way down the sidewalk and into the Dreamcatcher Bookshop. The bell over the door tinkled wildly. “Mom?”
    Her mother was at the cash register. She waved when she saw Sophie. Beside her was Ms. Lee, the woman who baked the cupcakes for the bookshop. Sophie had liked Ms. Lee from the moment she’d moved in next door. She had a musical voice, a pretty smile, and soft black hair that she wove into intricate braids. Her yard was full of birdfeeders, and in summer, she had flocks of hummingbirds that flitted around her windows. She was known to buy lemonade from every kid who set up a stand, and she volunteered every Saturday at the library. She was the nicest person that Sophie had ever met, but right now Sophie wished she’d leave.
    â€œLook at this!” Mom waved a cupcake in the air. It had a dollop of creamy white frosting and a garnish that looked like cracked leather. “Savory cupcakes. Bits of bacon and . . . What does this one have?”
    â€œHoney bacon cupcake,” Ms. Lee said. “And that one is pesto and pepper jack.” She smiled shyly at Sophie. “I’m experimenting. Would you like to try one, Sophie?”
    â€œUh, thanks, but . . . Mom, can I talk to you for a minute?” Sophie asked.
    Mom pulled Sophie’s hand toward her and dropped the honey bacon cupcake onto her palm. “You’ll love it. Try it.” Both Mom and Ms. Lee watched her with identical hopeful expressions on their faces, as if their future happiness depended on Sophie’s taste buds.
    â€œBut I . . .”
    Ms. Lee’s face fell. “You hate the idea. Pig on a cupcake. You think it sounds disgusting.”
    â€œNo, no, I’m sure it’s great.” To prove it, Sophie took a huge bite. The frosting smeared on her lips. She chewed, crushing the bacon as fast as she could. Around half-chewed cupcake, she said, “Delicious!”
    Ms. Lee brightened again. “Do you mean that?”
    Catching crumbs in her hand, Sophie nodded. It actually was good.
    Beaming, Ms. Lee spun to face Mom. “Gabriela, do you think they’ll sell? The best bakeries have dozens of recipes. If I can perfect a few more, we can expand . . . but I’m getting ahead of myself.”
    Mom clasped her hands. “I think you’ll sell hundreds, Jia. You’re a fantastic baker. Look at all you’ve achieved already! You need to believe in yourself. Believe in your dreams!”
    Sophie tried not to react to that phrase, even though she knew Mom meant daydreams, not sleeping dreams. Sophie wondered if Ms. Lee dreamed about cupcakes,