A new friend.

Zoe’s POV

I woke up with my legs kicking the air and a scream echoing through the room, my hands flying to my throat.

My bed was drenched in sweat. My sweat.

I crawled to the bathroom and threw up everything in my stomach. How could a dream be so vivid, so doused in raw emotion? I took a bath, but I was unable to go back to bed. I double-checked my front door to make sure it was locked; in fact, I locked every door in the house and curled up on my bed, knowing sleep wouldn't return.

“Zoe Merida,” I whispered, voicing my name just to reassure myself that I could still talk. "My name is Zoe. I can talk."

Later, I sat in front of the mirror, examining my neck for the gash I knew I wouldn't find. I wanted to call M.J. and tell him about the nightmare, but I recalled our conversation and changed my mind. What if he was with his girlfriend? He would want to come to me immediately. No. I thought of Arman, too, but I reminded myself that what we had wasn't real.

Instead, I disguised myself and went out into the city. I wore a coat that covered all of me and a wool beanie on my head. I added my old, thick glasses, certain no one would recognize me in them.

The saying was true: this city never sleeps. Every shop, store, and café was open; people ran their businesses twenty-four-seven. It was amazing. I had a bit of cash, so I did something I never thought I’d do: I bought roadside food. Potatoes were being roasted in the open air, spiced and sold with chicken. I stopped at a park bench, stared up at the open sky, and ate.

“Darling?”

It came like a hum the first time, so I ignored it.

“Darling?” It came a second time, clearer now, but I was sure the person couldn't be referring to me, so I ignored it again.

“It’s you! I knew it was you.”

Strong hands and a heavy, flowery scent enveloped me before I could find my bearings. But unlike my dream, I wasn’t afraid. The woman leaned back, and I came face-to-face with her.

“Rachel?” I was shocked to see her here.

“I want to say Brenda, but I know that’s just a character you played. I really can’t remember your real name,” she said apologetically.

“It’s Zoe,” I reminded her. To my own surprise, I pulled her in for another hug. It was wonderful to see a familiar face.

“You did it,” she smiled. “You finally found something you liked. You’re free!” She shrieked with joy, showing more happiness than I felt capable of. “I even heard about your relationship,” she murmured under her breath. “Is he coming? You’re in disguise, right?” She looked around as if Arman were going to pop out of a bush at any second.

“I am in disguise, but I doubt it was very effective since you recognized me,” I frowned.

“Nah, that’s just because I’ve seen your 'before and after.' Most people haven’t.”

Then I realized something: I owed a lot to this woman. M.J. had only found me because of the makeover she gave me. I wanted to kiss her feet; instead, I calmly asked, “What are you doing in New York?”

She looked around and sighed. “I don’t know, testing new waters?” She didn’t elaborate. “What are you doing out alone?”

“I don’t have friends here. Hell, I don’t have friends anywhere. I had a nightmare and couldn't sleep,” I confessed. I was desperate to tell someone—anyone. Maybe too desperate. I pinched myself, and then her, to make sure I wasn't imagining this.

I thought she would shriek in pain; instead, she burst into laughter. “You’re not imagining things, darling.”

“Did you do that on purpose?” I asked. “Calling me darling.”

She nodded. “It was obvious you loved it.”

“Thank you.” My eyes watered. “Thank you so much.”

And then, I couldn’t stop it. I let this girl hold me while I bawled my eyes out. I cried in fear over the nightmare, I cried over the uncertainty of my relationship with Arman, and I cried in gratitude for this new life. Most of all, I cried because I finally had something I’d always wanted.

I had found a friend.