Chapter 1

’Life is like a sandwich. The more you add, the messier it gets.’—Halle Vale

Two Years Later

Caleb

I opened my eyes, trying to figure out what woke me. It was my damned alarm. I reached over and slapped the top of it a couple of times before I was able to get it to turn off.

I’d had one of those dreams again. It was so vivid, like I had actually lived a whole day, but I knew I hadn’t done it yet.

This one was about my first day of school at Notre Dame. I was moving into Graham Family Hall, which was one of the newest dorms on campus. I’d managed to get a single on the second floor, something freshmen never got. My dad had donated something academic-related, and suddenly, a single became available.

Since I didn’t have any brothers or sisters, I wasn’t used to sharing my room with anyone, so living in a room with five other guys wasn’t happening. They actually put six guys in a room. I was too used to being on my own, but many Catholic families were large, so they might have had a brother or three in their room while growing up.

I chose Notre Dame because it has one of the best business schools; it had nothing to do with being Catholic, which technically, I was.

In my dream, my parents had driven me to college, and word had gotten out that my mom was on campus. It had stirred up a shitstorm of attention that I didn’t want. I wanted to get to know everyone as Caleb, not as Halle Vale’s son.

“Today’s the big day,” his mom said as he came down for breakfast.

As I sat down, I asked, “Could you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Could you and Dad maybe stay home?”

“Afraid I’ll suck the air out of the room?” Mom asked.

“Well, you might,” I said. “Plus, that way I’ll have a car at college.”

“I like how your devious mind works.”

In my dream, my parents had promised to bring my car three weeks later. It was my present from them for my eighteenth birthday.

My gift was a Range Rover Velar Autobiography, and I loved that car. It came in metallic green, with a black leather interior and satin dark-gray wheels. A few of the bells and whistles included were a sliding panoramic roof, a kick-ass sound system, adaptive cruise control, and steering assist—the frickin’ thing drove itself. The windshield adjusted the tint based on the intensity of the sunlight; it was essentially a pair of sunglasses for your car.

The vivid dreams had begun shortly after my accident. At first, they’d been sporadic, seeming to occur when something important was about to happen. An example was the first day I returned to high school. My dream had told me who everyone was and filled me in on how to act with each person. That had been an enormous help as I seamlessly integrated back into school.

From the dream, I discovered that many of the kids didn’t really like me because I came across as aloof. That was because I was full of insecurities and had learned to keep people at arm’s length. My experience had been one of people looking at me for a handout or to get information about my mother.

Coming back with a clean slate after my Halloween accident made me realize that if I put myself out there, people would respond. It wasn’t as if I was an ass or something, but more that I was shy and kept people at arm’s length.

The following dream happened right before a math test. It showed me all the problems that would be on the test, which made it dead simple to study.

With those two examples in place, I looked forward to the dreams.

When I pulled up to Graham Family Hall, it was utter chaos. I had to wait in line for almost forty minutes to get close enough to unload. When I did, a guy with a clipboard stepped up to my driver’s side window.

“Name?”

“Caleb Jeffers.”

“I see you’re alone. Did you receive your parking sticker?”

“Yeah, I have it right here,” I said and showed it to him.

He peeled it off, leaned inside my car, and put it under the oil change sticker.

“This will get you into the parking lot. I’ll send someone with a cart to meet you there and help you move in.”

I looked in the back and said, “I might need two.”

“Okay, I’ll arrange it,” the guy said, taking a picture of me in my car and sending it to someone.

When I pulled into the parking lot, there were guys with carts waiting for me. They waved me into a thirty-minute parking spot.

“Pop the rear gate,” one of them said.

I ended up needing three carts. On the trip to my room, I got to know the guys.

“I’m Caleb.”

“This is Leo and Julian, and I’m Mike. Where are you from?”

From there, we got to know each other a little. The three of them were from the same hometown, Corydon, Indiana. They shared that Corydon was the first capital of Indiana until the early 1800s, and the only Civil War battle in Indiana was fought there.

They lived in a quad on the third floor with John, another kid from their hometown. I met him when I came downstairs to move my car.

They agreed to meet up later in their room. I promised pizza as payment for helping me move in.

It took all afternoon to get my room the way I wanted it to be. Of course, I came up with a list of stuff I needed to buy.

The only downside to a single was that it was across the hall from Frank, the floor’s Resident Assistant, who seemed to relish his role as the floor cop.

After finishing my room, I kicked back and took a quick nap.

This dream was about going to Mass on Sunday morning. I was with the four guys I’d met moving in, and they were talking about the three girls who’d shown up the night before.