Safe

The water runs scalding hot, bouncing off the insides of the mug as I wash it clean.

"How'd you sleep?"

I lock eyes with Gabe as he brings a mug to his lips. The scuffle of his beard meets the rim, giving me more of a reason to shine the insides of my own, eager to free flyaway hairs. I've seen a dozen a day thanks to him. Hair mouth makes me nauseous.

"Like yesterday, but worse," I say, touching skin to pot. I pour a cup of coffee, hand reaching for the sugar and milk. Yesterday, it was the sugar, milk, and three pumps of vanilla. I've changed.

"Nightmares can't hold you down forever."

"Let's hope those words are true." I take my cup to go, knowing full well that I'm late and on the verge of throwing crabby patties at the kids in my lecture class. What? What's that Snickers slogan they throw around? Change the jingle up so that it works with a "lack of sleep," and you might as well place me in the ads. At least I'd get paid for the person I am in my dreams. Pleading for help like my soul sees parts of me in despair.

My True Science in Science Fiction professor refused to dive deeper into dream scenes in science fiction movies because of the way of the world. Dreams and their sci-fi means are lacking; they're fewer than dystopian and AI stories where love meets the main at the front door. Cute, but not cutting it.

"Alright, let's get started," Professor Cline says. She starts the projector before she dims the lights. She's trying to lull me back to a place I don't want to go.

"Parallel universe. What can anyone tell me about that?" She walks across the front of the room, heels clacking like they're meant to romanticize this moment, slowly hitting the floor as she meets an end to this room's acreage.

A hand raises quickly. Belongs to Porter Golley. I've known him since high school. Now he's taking college electives with me seven years after we've graduated. Same boat, different stories.

"Porter?" Professor Cline says, knowing all fifteen students by name.

"There are copies of us living in a different world. They look like us, but they're working different jobs, living different lifestyles, sometimes living our dream."

"Ah, and what would your dream be? If you could switch places with your parallel universe 'copy,' what would you hope to trade into?" Professor Cline settles, eager to hear the details of a guy's dream. Aren't the details already known? Beer, big bucks, bacon, and babes?

Porter's eyes trail to mine as he says, "Love." He looks at Professor Cline as he continues with, "I let someone get away... I know people would say, 'oh, why not trade with the guy who's got loads of money,' but I guess as you get older, your priorities change."

Silence sets in, until snarky Trevor goes, "if anything, time has shown me that money is my top priority." He shrugs nonchalantly.

There's laughter that distracts the class from the fact that Porter is staring at me, hoping for me to stare back and change my mind about him, never mind jumping ship to a different universe to save what we had before it soured. Professor Cline, dim the lights even further, lull me to sleep. Now.

Few hours later

I'm looking at Gabe as he rubs my cheek with one finger. He's telling me about his day as he falls asleep. I keep my eyes on him. I'm not ready to see that different side of me yet.

I'm what some would call an outside observer of an agonized dream version of me. I've given her a name. Inor G. E. In need of rescuing. Gabe added the G and E as middle and last name initials as a reminder to ignore the dreams completely. Easier said than done.