“That’s seven dollars,” the vendor told me.

I handed her ten dollars and collected the cupcake key chain I bought for my father. As she handed me my change, I noticed a Daily Buzz magazine on the shelf behind her. Ray was on the cover. Maybe I didn’t get hired because my reason for being in the industry wasn’t pure. Meeting Ray again was my goal all along. Our encounter back then had been an active memory for me. The brash girl who stole my first kiss—and eventually my heart.

I thanked the saleswoman and headed to the train platform, feeling dismayed.

Even though it took over two hours by train to get to Bridgeport, and only an hour by plane, I always preferred to take the train. It was one of my favorite ways to travel. I liked the view of the changing landscapes, the soothing reverberation of the train as it whizzed through them, and I was enjoying the ride.

I hadn’t called Papa yet to let him know I didn’t get the job.

I searched for my cell phone and yawned. I was up early to make it to my interview on time, and it exhausted me. I wanted a hot bath as soon as I got home, then fall into bed and hope today’s disappointment would soon become a distant memory.

It was already so late. It will be night by the time I reach Chester.

“You don’t might me sitting here, do you?”

When I looked up from my bag, I saw a woman wearing a heather grey and black Adidas cap pulled down on her face as if she were hiding.

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I narrowed my eyes at her.

“I must be more tired than I thought because if you are, then I am dreaming,” I said, dazed. “I fell asleep, didn’t I?”

“Should I assume you dream about me?” Ray asked, taking a seat beside me.

If it was a dream, I could be honest. “Aye. Every night,” I said.

Ray’s smile disappeared; now a shadow fell over her face.

“Does it make you sad?” I asked. “Should I not dream about you?”

If she tells me I have no right to dream about her, I will die.

“The pain in your voice makes me sad,” she said. “I want to occupy your thoughts all the time. I want to mess you up so badly that you can’t focus on anything else but me.”

Ray would say that. It was a dream. Dreams came from either fear or what the heart desired. I desired to hear such words from Ray. Not the Ray who says wonderful things in my dreams, but the Ray I saw today at my interview.

I sighed in displeasure and turned my face away, watching the scenery pass through the window of the moving train.

“I am right. It’s a dream. You always say intense things in my dreams. The real you would never utter those words.”

“Kichi—”

“Your voice sounds different calling my name, more real. It’s nice.”

“That’s because you’re not—”

“I am tired.” The words left my mouth with a troubled expression.

Ray gave the top of my head a single pat before ruffling my hair. My cheeks heated as my weary eyes closed.