Blue Is for Nightmares Read Free

near as shapely as they were this summer in my blue cut-off shorts. I wonder how long it's been since I looked in the mirror, when all these changes happened.
    But I already know. I felt and looked so much better before I came back to school, before I started having these nightmares.
    I wipe up my legs as best I can with a damp facecloth, yank on the pair of gray sweatpants, and glance over at the shoe rack in the corner of the room. Staring up from it is the pair of yellow sneakers I'm wearing in my nightmare. Each shoe has a thick, wooden bead threaded through the bottom lace. And embedded on the bead is the insignia for neutrality, two halves of the moon joined together by a line. They're my favorite sneakers, but I haven't worn them since the beginning of the year--because of my nightmares.
    I slide open my night table drawer and pluck out a musk- scented incense cone and a bottle of lavender. The cone is
    about as tall as my thumb and carries a boylike scent when burned. I spill a few droplets of the oil onto my finger before wetting around the circumference of the cone. The combined scents are just enough to cover up the eau de toilette I've been creating since the beginning of school, and luckily Madame Discharge doesn't complain.
    I know I need to hurry. Drea will be back any minute. I squat down beside my bed and grab a handful of plastic shopping bags. I've been making a habit out of taking a couple extra from the grocery store each time I go; now I have a whole stash.
    I rip the soiled sheets from the bed, revealing the plastic bags I've placed underneath as a lining to protect the mattress. They're wet. I roll them up as best I can, stuff them under my night table, and then scurry to lay a few fresh ones down. The clean fitted sheet is a bit more difficult. I wrestle the first corner on, manage the opposite corner, try for the third, but then the first corner snaps back.
    -Have another accident?" Drea is standing at the door, her arms full of Diet Cokes and chocolate bars from the lobby machines. "I hate it when that happens." She nods toward the bed sheets and I feel my face freeze.
    -The hardest part is getting out the blood," she continues. "Usually I just send them to the cleaners. Is that why you changed?"
    I nod.

    -Ode to the joys of being a woman."
    Relief She doesn't know.
    While Drea arranges her newly acquired lobby treats in an already crammed mini-fridge, I kick the soiled bedsheets
    underneath my bed and finish muzzling the clean one over all four corners of the mattress.
    "Decided to burn some incense, I smell," she says. "You've been burning a lot of that stuff lately"
    I ignore the comment and walk barefoot over to the broken glass. I begin sweeping it up using a brush that hasn't touched my hair in days and my math notebook, feeling a tinge of self-pride that I'm finally putting both to good use.
    I walk the clump over to the wastebasket, but then stop, mid-dump. I snatch my eyes shut.
    Clench my teeth together. Hear a catlike cry whine out my throat. The sting shoots up my leg, up my spine, and forks into my shoulders and neck.
    I missed a piece of glass. I lift my foot and turn it upward to look. The diamond-shaped chunk is still sticking out.
    "I'll call the health center," Drea says. "Do you need an ambulance?"
    "No. I think I can get it." I hobble over to my bed for a better look. I can see where the piece entered. A clean, sideways slit. I take a deep breath, grab the point that sticks out, and pluck the glass from my foot in one quick movement. A bright red piece, still dripping.
    "Eauuw!" Drea dives headfirst into her bed, drowning her face into the sea of pink paisleys patterned across the comforter.
    "I need you to go into my spell drawer," I tell her. "I need you to get me a potato."
    'A potato?" Drea peeks out from the bed ruffle. "Please."
    She diverts her eyes toward the ceiling as she makes her way past me and into the bottom drawer of my dresser. She plucks out a hearty Idaho