Rain taps at the glass windows of the language arts lecture hall. The professor drones on about sentence structure and diagramming, but Kam’s eyes feel heavy. He wishes his body would understand that he had a full night’s sleep, but he fades in and out of consciousness. He can’t focus anyway. Adrenaline flows through his veins, fighting his usual inclination to day dream. A pencil falls behind him, and Kam snaps up with a yelp. The professor briefly stops and turns, but quickly resumes lecturing. The students around Kam raise their eyebrows. 

Kam rests his chin on his hands and tries to calm his rising anxiety.. He breathes deeply. In. 1.. 2.. 3.. 4.. 5.. Out. 2.. 3.. 4.. 5.. 6.. In….Kam drifts back through his memories of the morning.

“Nightmares are like vegetables.” Asa squeezed his nose and gagged.  “Necessary nutrition, but the taste could be better. If you’ve had a rough week, they can sometimes give me a bit of trouble too.” Asa continued. “A person’s dreams are like the cherry on top. They’re so vivid and delicious. So we Dream Eaters skim a little off the top as a sort of payment. We keep your dreams clear of Nightmares. We get a little treat.”

Kam’s hands became clammy. “But that’s not what you do. I don’t remember my dreams. Any of them. Ever…”

Julie’s shouting jolts Kam into focus. “Kam? Kam! Earth to Kam, hello? That was our queue.” In his daze, he somehow made it to drumline practice. Barely.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just tired.”

“When aren’t you tired, dude.” Terrance says, setting his bass down. 

“Ugh. That’s it for practice today. Wake the fuck up, Rajab.” Julie dismisses the drumline. Kam imagines he won’t make it to dinner with the entire drumline ready to tear into him. 

He gulps.

As he sets his drum down, Diane turns to face him. “You know, if you survive captain’s wrath another week, I’m still ok to go to The Percussive Delphi  show with you.”

“Same.” Terrance says.

“Thanks. Today’s just been an off day.” Heat rises in Kam’s chest but he shrugs it off. 

Terrance keeps talking, his voice booming across their practice field. “It’s so lucky they’re coming during the only weekend  away game we aren’t traveling for. I’ve wanted to see them since I was a kid. You have to come, it’s-

Terrance’s voice fades out of Kam’s ears as the heat in his chest rises to his head. Kam’s eyes close and he falls backwards. 

 Kam’s eyes open, and it’s Asa standing over him, reaching out his hand. “Are you ok?” Kam’s body feels smaller. Awkward. He realizes it’s just a vision in his head: an old memory from middle school.

“Back off.” Asa orders as Kam crawls to his knees. Asa’s arms are spread as wide as his small body can.

“You gonna let that fag get away with that shit.”

Kam remembers it was the day they’d read short stories aloud to their class. His sexuality was in such a flux back then. After listening to just one of his stories, it seemed the entire class decided he was gay before he knew for sure that he was. They hated him for it.

“He’s my friend.” Asa says, trying to sound menacing, but his voice cracks.

Minutes later, Asa and Kam lie next to each other, bloodied and bruised as their bullies cackle and run away. Kam tries to feel his face, but it’s too tender. A light touch on his hand sends sparks down his spine. Asa is holding his hand. 

“You should’ve run away.

Asa coughs and shook his head. “I’ll never leave you. You’re-”

Something jolts Kam awake. “Shit, did I just pass out?” 

Diane is sitting over him and feels his forehead. “Yea. Only for a second though. Terrance ran to tell the captain. You sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah. I’m just off. I think I’ll be fine with some rest.”

Julie emerges from the drum locker, her eyes filled with worry. They quickly harden seeing Kam standing up. “Catch,” she says, throwing him a water bottle. “If you’re gonna pass out, don’t come to practice. You’re off the hook for today.”

Kam feigns a smile. “Thanks, cap.” 

“Drink some water, put your drum away and go the fuck home.”

Kam does not go home. He goes into his creative writing professor’s office to receive feedback for his playwriting exercise. He’d decided to challenge himself with writing in an area completely new to him. The positive feedback he receives astounds him. Maybe, just maybe, he can make his writing dream a reality. He stops in his tracks. The world around him spirals and he quickly grasps a nearby railing as he reviews the final moments with Asa from the morning.

Asa leaned back onto the bench and looked up at the sky . He licked his lips. “That’s because I eat all of your dreams.”

Kam shirked away, his face a mix of surprise and horror “Every night?” Asa nodded. “But…why. Why do this to me?”

Asa's response bounced around Kam's head as if his memory played out in surround sound.

“Because they’re delicious

It’s so addictive

It’s like what all those opiate ads are like

I can’t help myself

It’s like candy

Cake

Donuts

What are the other things humans can’t help but crave

Your dreams are limitless

And they’re all mine

I can have any amount

All I want

Every night

Why eat anything else

The taste is so vivid

Delectable

Delightful

Delicious

A savory, sweet meal one night

A palatable spice the next

You don’t understand

I get it

I…

Kam? What's wrong?”

The memory refocused as Kam found himself at the corner of the bench, barely hanging on. His eyes bulged as he gripped the seat.  It’s the only thing left that felt like it could keep him grounded.

“How long?” he asked, softly.

“What do you mean? Asa tilted his head.

“Has it always been you? Is this why we’re even friends?”

“I….don’t remember.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“I don’t get it.”

“It’s not good enough. Just say it.”

“What do you want me to say?” I don’t remember.”

Kam turned from him. His eyes welled up. 

“Hey. Hey! Where are you going? Kam!” Kam ran. If Asa wanted to catch Kam, if he really wanted Kam to stay, he could catch-up. He was faster. He had always been faster. He was the one who acted without thinking. He was the one who stepped in and interfered. He was the one who was always there.

And Asa let him go.