He visits me in my nightmares, making me toss and turn until I finally jerk awake. When I do, my face is covered with sweat and tears, and my heart is still pounding in my chest. It's only seven thirty, but I sit up in bed, Sunlight peeks through the windows, casting a haze on the pale yellow walls, but it doesn't cheer me up the way it might have before. Everyone's going to the beach today for a lazy Saturday in the sun, but I'm too wound up about Dad to be much fun. I pace around my room for a while, trying to kill this anxiety. But it grows and grows, filling my chest and then the rest of my body until it feels like I can't breathe. The first tear slips out, but I flick it away. Crying is useless-it won't change a thing and I hate that he has this effect on me.
Dane and Olly are giddy
