Dreamer by Savannah Campbell (best motivational books of all time .txt) 📖

dating Geoff Raleigh? He’s decent looking and according to the preppy bitches who always warn me about my twice daily habit he’s, like the school’s most sought after guy in school.” Hester asks Irene, her voice developing a Valley Girl accent halfway through her comment. 

Irene laughs at the tone but answers nervously. “No no. He’s just a guy I know from junior high. I apparently made an impression on him by making fun of his name. The teacher called him ‘Gee-off.’ He hasn’t stopped bothering me in some way or another since.” 

“Well you must have made some impression girl. You should totally get with that.” Hester says, nudging Irene’s shoulder. 

“I barely even really talk to him about anything but schoolwork. For all I know he just considers me his schedule organizer in human form.” she responds, her brow furrows in confusion. Hester shrugs as though she’s silently telling Irene that relationships have started from weirder places before. The girls walk into their classroom just as the warning bell rings. 

Later in their AP Trigonometry class, Geoff pesters Irene for the entire period while she tries to finish highlighting her notes from another class. She, like Geoff has already finished the class’s homework assignment left by the teacher. It’s the last class of the day and their teacher, Mrs. Root is unexpectedly out sick. She left only ten problems for the class to complete over the weekend. Geoff and Irene’s classmates have taken full advantage of their substitute’s lenient rule asking them to just stay in their seats and don’t bother him. They talk to their friends, sleep and thoroughly enjoy the absence of their regularly scheduled teacher. 

In contrast to their peers, Geoff and Irene finish the assignment within minutes of it being said. Geoff whispers a boast to Irene about their great preparatory school backgrounds help in augmenting their math skills. Irene moves on to getting her history notes ready so that she can prepare for a quiz the following week. She tries desperately to ignore Geoff's verbal buzzing into her ears about anything that comes to his mind with or without any transitions in between topics.   

“So I think that new movie Super Troupers coming out next month looks really awesome. Have you seen any good movies lately Reeny?”  He asks her head as her eyes stay glued to the notebook pages she’s scanning over. 

“Geoff!” She huffs in a loud whisper. “How many times do I have to tell you?! My name is Irene. That’s two syllables, one of which is just a letter! How hard is that to say?” She glares at him. 

“It’s fun to make your face change colors I guess. You know, I think your name is the only thing you’ve told me about yourself since we met all those years ago in junior high.” He smirks, the dimple in his right cheek becoming prominent. 

“That’s not true, I told you how I never talk to someone who doesn’t address me first, I told you that on the first day we met.” Irene says as she puts her notes away. She realizes she’s not going to get any work done this period. It's just a bad combination of a bored Geoff who is probably counting down the minutes until weekend and an apathetic substitute who is probably doing the same mental countdown just quieter.  

“Ah ha! See I just learned something new about you and it only took five years.” Geoff grins as he looks at his wrist, feigning to check a watch. “You have an excellent memory for details. I’m addicted now though; tell me more about the mysterious psychology that is Irene Gabbard. I’ve told you loads about me through the years and I bet you remember every last scrap of it.” 

Irene opens her mouth to correct the name he just called her but realizes she doesn’t need to for once. She knows he’s right about one thing—she does know a lot about him. From where he got the scars on his knees (rollerblading accident on a neighbor’s driveway when he was eight) to what he thinks of his stepmother (not half as dumb as her hair makes her look but still a very good example of the evil stereotype, at least to him). She knows more about him for sure but given his attitude today, why would she want to give him confirmation of that?

Of course, it’s not like Geoff is the only person she collects details about. All her life, people have told her abundances of factoids about their lives. I know they’ve wanted me to reciprocate in some amount, no matter how small, Irene thinks as she sees Geoff continue to smile encouragingly in her direction. I never have though, why would anyone want to know about me? I’m just a boring too smart for her own good introvert. And you know what? It doesn’t even bother me that usually they grow tired of me not saying much and find someone who actually talks. Or in the cases of Geoff and my parents they’ve just talked enough for both of us.

The bell rings suddenly and it snaps Irene out of her thoughts. She sees Geoff’s grinning face as he questions her silently. She knows he wants her to say anything to him, even if it’s to remark about his correct name usage just moments before.

“I’m impressed, Gee-off it only took you five years to learn how to say my name properly. You’ve given hope to kids learning how to read and speak everywhere.” Irene teases as she grabs her backpack and begins to sprint for the door. The faster I get to my Jeep the faster I can get home and not have to worry about him saying anything else and pestering me for more autobiographical details. I listened to myself before with Hester but Geoff—well he’s a different case and has to be handled accordingly.

“See that just proves you still know more about me than I know about you! You know that’s the way my name was slaughtered on the day we met. Sometimes you don’t play fair!” He yells out as he sees her strawberry blonde hair fly through the door.

Chapter 2

July 2007

                Clouds pass by her line of sight as she glides through the cerulean skyline. Her motions are effortless and serene. Her peaceful mindset helps her to navigate around any birds or other flying creatures she encounters in quick yet tranquil movements. She continues to stay on course, soaring high above the neighborhood below.

                She looks down to notice familiar buildings. Who wouldn’t recognize their own childhood hometown? Irene smiles lightly as she continues traveling farther ease. She recognizes her old high school but doesn’t linger over it for long, instead gliding over to the town library. She slowly descends and walks to the front door. It is here she first researched the tricks and actions that have enhanced her ability manipulate her subconscious life to her own will. It’s a skill that I discovered most people can develop within themselves, mine has always seemed almost innate, an unconscious ability I use subconsciously haha.

                I’ve been giving myself detailed lucid dreams since about sophomore year of high school. Today’s flight was a good break for sure though. My Psy.D  classes were so demanding last term I needed a break in more ways than one. As she opens the door to the building that started everything for her, she decides this is a good time to wake up and start a new day.

                Irene slowly opens her eyes. She smiles as she looks over her bedroom. She’s lived in the same apartment building since her last undergraduate year. It’s one of many comforts that help calm her on stressful days like last week’s finals.

                She grabs her notebook from the bedside table. “Only two more years and I’ll have my doctorate. Wow.” The notebook has changed over the years in style and length as it gets filled and replaced by another. Nevertheless, it’s where she’s kept record of her dreams, how she’s acted in them and any feelings that came about as a result for over ten years now. With each night’s record, Irene makes sure she notes her use of her dreaming ability and if she grows stronger or better in doing so. She quickly writes down a summary of her flight and the accompanying feelings of peace.

                Irene picks out a favorite shirt and jeans to wear as an internal celebration of the fact that she’s on vacation for the next few days. The second summer term of her classes ended so she has two weeks before the fall semester. This leaves a few days to enjoy doing whatever she wants before her job starts back.

                She’s a teacher’s assistant to the cognitive psychology professor on campus—a position she gratefully earned in 2006 after over a year of living on loans and grants as means of funding her very expensive post-graduate degree. Part of her duties next week will be to make sure the professor, Dr. Antoinette Bingham’s textbooks for undergraduate classes have been secured at the campus bookstore as well as proofreading her syllabus for any typos. It’s grunt work at this point. Once classes start however in August, Irene’s excited as she knows she’ll be helping with Dr. Bingham’s research projects and proctoring weekly quizzes. Those duties of course will be in between my own classes, practicum and dissertation work. Phew.

                She lays her outfit out on the chair outside her bathroom door and quickly turns on the shower water. Irene showers quickly—a habit started in high school that was only strengthened in undergrad when more often than not she would be running late for her early morning classes. Later when she is leaving the bathroom, she hears her cell phone chime like a doorbell.

                She sighs with a laugh “What do you want this early Hester? And why are you of all people up before noon?”

                Irene walks into her kitchen and removes the phone from its charger. She taps a few buttons before reading the sender’s message. “Call me when you get this, it’s a psychological matter.”

                Irene rolls her eyes. Meaning you want me to diagnose some guy you met on the sidewalk who seems nice but you feel has some type of personality quirk that may lead to an abduction on your first date if I don’t clear him psychically first right? Irene scrolls through her ten person contact list and hits send.

                “Hey Hes, what was so psychologically important that you of all people sent me a text before 11am? Aren’t you the person who said that an Ehrenberg only recognizes certain times every day and they don’t exist until after noon?” Irene smirks as she emphasizes the psycho syllable.

                Hester responds with the same joking tone. “Wow listen to Mrs. Freud this morning.” Irene smiles hearing Hester’s sarcasm. The familiarity of it comforts Irene and reminds her of how they first met.

                “Seriously though,” Hester says. “I think it’s a psychological emergency that you and I haven’t talked in a few weeks. I mean I know you’re not one for the big emotional reveals on a daily basis, those are more my style, but why the silence?”

                “You know my second summer term ended, literally days ago. I warned you that I go into a sort of academic seclusion when that happens. Is there anything else you need