I awoke with the creepy-crawly sense I was being watched. The sight of a human perched on the end of my bed made my pulse jump in my throat, but then the figure shifted and I realised with a trembling sigh that it was Sarah, dressed in lime green pyjamas. Not some crazy reflection made of broken glass.
Sarah leaned forward. “You okay? Did I scare you?”
“What did you expect, waking me up like that?” I grumbled, running my hands over my face to brush away the cobwebs of sleep.
“Sorry,” she said, her tone unrepentant.
“I had the weirdest dream. It was me … but not me. Prettier. Except I don’t think she liked me very much.”
Sarah blinked. I opened my mouth to explain further and closed it again. The details of the dream were already starting to fade … although the expression on my reflection’s face stayed with me, as clear as Sarah’s perplexed scrunch of her forehead.
I glanced at the clock. It was just after seven am. “Why are you waking me?”
“I had to know. What happened with Dominic?”
“Nothing. Well, not like you mean.” I sat up, rubbing my eyes before explaining our encounter with my mask-wearing attacker.
“And he rushed to defend you? How romantic.” Sarah clutched her hands to her chest and sighed, fluttering her eyelashes.
“Oh, shut up. He thinks I’m an idiot, the way I fell on my butt.”
“Guys dig the whole damsel in distress thing,” she contradicted me. “It makes them feel all macho.”
“Well, it made me feel like an idiot.” I stretched. “And sore. If I could get my hands on the… I wonder what he wanted?”
“Given the mask, I’d guess to freak you out. Or maybe he was taking advantage of Halloween to wear a mask and steal people’s purses.” Her eyes widened. “He didn’t steal your purse, did he?”
“No. Just my dignity.”
“Shame. I was hoping you’d tell me Dominic stole your virtue.”
She squawked when Mister Monkey hit her in the face.