Nic Tatano - Jillian Spectre and the Dream Weaver

I slide the book back to my mother. "Well, she's a college professor, so that takes care of the high intelligence part."

"A degree doesn't make someone smart, sweetie."

"Good point. Look who's in Congress."

"Tell me more about what you saw in the reading. Jake and this teacher, Miss Whatshername."

"Cruise. Rebecca Cruise. Well, they were in her office at the college. She basically had him pinned against the wall and was kissing him and about to do God knows what else. And she was totally in charge of the situation."

"Was he resisting at all?"

I shake my head. "No, he looked like he was really enjoying it. She started to unbutton his shirt and that's when I ended the reading. I didn't want to see anything else."

"And this teacher, Cruise, she's a supporter of your father?"

"Yeah, big time. You shoulda heard her, building him up like he was some sort of messiah and everyone in the class just eating it up. So the fact that Jake likes her makes no sense."

"Hmmm. If she is a dream weaver she could be manipulating Jake."

"Is there any other paranormal power that would account for something like this?"

She shakes her head. "Don't think so. I'll ask Sebastien but I've read this book cover to cover and there's nothing else that could explain it."

"You think the legend is real, Mom?"

"Hey, the legend about you turned out to be true." She looks at the page. "Too bad there's no illustration of the dream weaver in the book."

"Mom, there's one other thing. I met another student who said this teacher is well known for having affairs with a different freshman every year. You think what I saw means that she's going after Jake?"

"It would make sense. And if she has that kind of power, she could also be the one who made contact with your father."

Roxanne slowly picks at her Monterrey Jack chicken, head down, not remotely herself as we have a casual dinner on this Friday night. No, I haven't told her what I saw in the reading or about the possibility of a dream weaver doing a Manchurian Candidate thing on Jake and turning him into her own personal boy-toy. It would push her over the edge. I'm hoping our double date of dinner, a movie and dancing will cheer her up. The restaurant is one of those casual fun chains, where all the waiters and waitresses bounce around like they've had a six pack of Red Bull and you can win a fried cheese appetizer if you answer the trivia question of the night.

Ryan's been briefed and sworn to secrecy. His mission tonight: to take a quiet trip into Jake's mind during the movie and find out what the hell the Cruise Missile has done to him. Sebastien is coming by tomorrow to get a full report. Meanwhile, he has no information at all on Ms. Cruise. If she has powers, she's totally off the grid. And Mom was right, there's no other paranormal power that could account for what's happening.

Jake is his usual talkative self, totally oblivious to the fact Roxanne looks very depressed. He hasn't said anything about the teacher in question, but something is different about him. Can't put my finger on it, but I'll figure it out.

"Rox, your food okay?" I ask.

She shrugs and gives me a sad look. "Yeah, it's fine."

"Is it just me," I say, going on our pre-planned fishing expedition, "or are freshman college courses beyond boring?"

"Tell me about it," says Ryan. "I've got a couple of professors who I think died in 2010 and no one's told them. But I guess we've gotta get the required courses out of the way. I sure hope it gets better, because four years of this would be torture."

"I dunno, I've got a couple of good courses," says Jake. Roxanne glares at me, as if to say why the hell did you bring this up ? "I like a couple of my classes."

Ryan pops a French fry and talks through it. "You got that whack job radical political science professor, right?"

"Who, Ms. Cruise? She seems pretty conservative to me."

And now I know the woman has some power.

I'm deep in thought as I wait for the crosswalk light to change to the little green man. And I have to admit I'm frustrated. My first weeks of college were supposed to be fun, meeting people who actually have ambition as opposed to the human doorstops who made up half of our student body. Of course, this being a very expensive school (thank goodness we all have full scholarships), there are a few girls working on a MRS degree with a trust fund brat, of which there are many. Overall, the whole college experience has been extremely disappointing, and when you throw in the fact I'm still doing my superheroine thing while dealing with a possible dream weaver who might be trying to access my father, I'm ready for spring break in September.

And after another Saturday with Sebastien there are more questions than answers. The geek squad at The Summit has tried everything in the book but can't get a read on the Cruise Missile. However, they're convinced she does have some sort of mind control powers. She may not be the legendary dream weaver, but she's a snake oil salesgirl who is selling stuff that is hazardous to your health and could necessitate a penicillin shot for one lucky male freshman. Meanwhile, what she's done to Jake has me worried and Roxanne upset. He's noticeably changed. Nothing major, but he's not the same and it's playing havoc with their relationship. Sebastien has a theory that those under my father's domain know the four of us took him down and are working on some plan to split us apart. To me that makes perfect sense. After all, we were pretty unbeatable when we combined our powers. Divide and conquer is an old but effective strategy.

The crosswalk light changes and I'm still trying to sort all this out, so I'm not paying attention as I step off the curb right into a hole and twist my ankle. Pain shoots up my leg as I crouch down—

"Look out!"

I look up and see a taxi barreling straight for me, obviously ignoring the red light. My heart rate skyrockets but an arm wraps around my waist and lifts me out of harm's way in the nick of time. The cab flies through the intersection, colliding with a city bus.

"You okay?" asks the voice attached to the arm still holding me in midair.

"Yeah. God, thank you." My heart is still pounding as I'm returned to the ground, which causes a shooting pain in my ankle. "Owww!" The arm steadies me and I lean on it, then turn around to find out the identity of my white knight.

"Oh, it's you," says Trip. "Jillian, right?"

"Yeah. Trip, I don't know what to say. You saved my life."

"Eh, you probably would've rolled out of the way."

"Doubtful."

"You need to pay attention when you cross the street in New York, young lady. A red light doesn't necessarily mean traffic stops."

"Yes, Sir, I'll be a good little girl and look both ways in the future."

He looks down at my leg. "Did you twist your ankle?"

"Yeah, I stepped in that pothole and must have sprained it. Hurts like hell." I try to put some weight on it again but the pain makes me wince.

He wraps one arm around my back to steady me. "I think we need to get you to the school infirmary."

"You're probably right. At least get some ice on it." I stick my hand straight out into the street.

"What are you doing?"

"Hailing a cab. I can't walk on this."

"Don't be ridiculous." Trip reaches down, wraps his other arm under my legs and easily lifts me, cradling my body as he starts walking in the direction of the campus.

"What are you doing?"

"It's only two blocks, and I'm cheaper than a taxi."

"You think you can carry me that far?"

"I dunno, you weigh a ton."

"Hey!" I playfully slap his arm.

He shoots me a grin, one of those sly smiles that makes your heart (and other parts of your body) do somersaults. What the hell, I guess I can be a damsel in distress and get rescued by a handsome block of granite. I relax and wrap my arms around his neck to hold on, feeling his rock-hard muscles under his shirt. He effortlessly carries me down the street. We get to the crosswalk and have to wait for the light. He looks at me and smiles again.