Awaken (25 page)

He leaned against the door frame and stared down at me.

“If I knew you’d get arrested so fast, we would have tried weaning you off of technology earlier.”

I smiled and chewed on one of my nails. “Thanks a lot.”

“You just can’t be communicating with anyone right now. First we need to figure out what to do with you.”

He said this lightly, as if the fact that he assisted in the escape and was housing a girl running from the law was like hosting an out-of-townguest.

“I know. I’m just trying not to go crazy.” My foot shook again. I told him I was thinking too much. I was so used to being distracted.

Justin stepped inside the room and pressed his back against the wall. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked thoughtful.

“There are some books in the living room. Did you see those?”

I nodded but I couldn’t concentrate on reading. He studied the mess on the carpeting next to me and something caught his attention. I followed his gaze and noticed he was staring at my journal.

“That’s yours?” he asked. I nodded and looked away.

“My mom gave it to me. It’s authentic – made of real paper.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Do you use it?”

I nodded, annoyed even looking at it. “I have.”

He watched me carefully. “You write longhand? That’s so old school,” he teased. He slid down the wall and sat on the floor across from me. Our knees were almost touching. He asked if he could see it and I nodded. He picked it up and examined the cover and flipped through the pages. I stared at his bare feet and baggy sweatpants and the way he propped his elbow on top of his knee.

“Messy,” he noted of my penmanship. I shrugged and let out a long sigh. Justin looked at me curiously.

“Do you want me to leave?” he asked. His dark eyes were level with mine. My mouth dropped open with surprise.

“No, why would I want you to leave?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Something’s bugging you and it’s in this room.”

He looked around at the walls and the bed as he tried to locate it. I sighed. He
could
read my eyes.

He glanced down at what he was holding. “Huh,” he said. He flipped the pages between his long fingers. “It’s this.”

I nodded and glared briefly at the journal. He watched me and waited for an explanation. “My mom gave it to me for my last birthday. She collects old books and she’s always handing them down to me. She gave me that one when I turned seventeen.”

His eyes were absorbed on mine but this time his gaze didn’t make me lose track of my thoughts.

“She told me it’s therapeutic to write my thoughts down, so that’s what I started to do. And I can see what she means, it forces me to slow down and reflect, but…”

I picked up a piece of my hair and rubbed it between my fingers. “Nothing really happens to me. Until recently.” I paused and Justin nodded for me to go on. I wasn’t used to people giving me their undivided attention and his steady gaze pulled the words out of me.

“My first entry was about trees, I guess since that’s where paper books come from.” I paused and smiled to myself. “It’s just funny, I never once thought about trees until I sat down and wrote that entry. Then it all sank in how I lived in a city where none of them grew. It made me wonder what everything looked like fifty years ago, before people started moving their lives inside and before all of those huge fires. It made me so upset to think about,” I admitted.

Justin looked down and flipped the book over in his hands.

“So, I stopped writing that entry because it was making me depressed. For days all I could think about were those trees that I’ve never even seen. And then it made me angry, the idea that I never had a chance to see that world. And the fact that people could give up so easily. Some inventor came out with plastic trees and it was a quick fix and everyone jumped on it. Everyone just wanted instant gratification. Even with nature.”

I looked at the journal Justin still held in his hands. “Every time I pick it up, I surprise myself with what I write. Almost every entry is depressing. It’s making me doubt whether I’ve ever had a true friend, if I’ve been living inside one huge lie. It’s making me doubt who my parents are, who I am, what love is.” I shook my head and grinned sadly. “Maybe my life is depressing.”

I pulled at the small threads on the carpeting.

“The worst was the other night,” I said. I felt a cold chill run up my arms all the way to the top of my head. “When I was staying wherever I was staying. Something about that basement – it was like a morgue. All I could think about was M28 and all of those kids.” I could hear my voice getting shaky so I took a deep breath.

“I just kept writing, all about DS and how it started. I never let myself think about it, you know? No one ever talks about it, you just don’t go there. My dad was a high school principal at one of the schools that had a shooting. Seven students died.” I stared at Justin. His eyes were intense on mine. “My dad killed the student who had the gun.”

“I heard about that,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, Maddie.”

“It hurt to write all that. It physically hurt. I felt so sick after I thought so much about it.”

He nodded. “Maybe it woke you up to what’s happening around you though.”

I took another long breath.

“Knowledge can hurt because you can’t turn away from things anymore. You can’t pretend you’re blind to what’s happening,” he said. “It’s a lot easier to ignore something you don’t want to accept than to face it.”

“You don’t ignore anything,” I said.

He shook his head. “My mom made me keep a journal, ever since I can remember,” he said. “Sometimes I feel like you do right now. But I think your mom’s right. It is good for you. And you never know, you might have some good news to write in it someday.”

Justin stood up. I looked down at the journal on the floor next to me. I didn’t loathe it as much anymore.

“You should get some sleep,” he said. “Tomorrow’s a big day.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Why?”

He smiled, a huge smile that made my heart beat irregularly. “It’s a surprise.”

I heard an engine roaring in the driveway and I turned over and moaned into my pillow. The clock on the wall said it was 9:30 but I was still exhausted. Sleep came in sporadic waves throughout the night, only to snap me awake with images of my parents or the police standing outside the door. I rolled out of bed and dragged my feet toward the kitchen.

I looked down at the stove and saw a skillet covered up. I opened the lid and scrambled eggs were inside mixed with what looked like tomatoes and something green and leafy. As I dished it up, I shook my head and wondered if Justin ever tired of having to introduce me to everything. I wished there was something I could teach him, some way to make myself useful other than being the needy, scared, hungry teen delinquent in the house.

Just as I picked up my fork to try the first bite, I heard the garage door open. I grabbed my plate and walked out the front door to find Justin standing next to a box lying on the driveway. I took a bite of the scrambled eggs and Justin looked over at me.

“Hey,” he said. It looked like he just worked out, his hair was windblown and strokes of red stained his cheeks.

“Morning,” I answered back. I held my plate high in the air. “Sorry you have to feed me all the time,” I said.

He rolled his eyes. “Maddie, stop apologizing every time I cook something.”

I nodded and took another bite. “Deal.” I sat down on the ground and crossed my legs and focused on my breakfast. I glanced at the box next to him.

“You could do me a favor if you want,” he said.

I perked up at this.

“Make me a list of all your dad’s passwords, a burned copy of his files, step-by-step instructions on how to access his profiles…”

I frowned. “I thought we were talking about food.” I looked down at my plate, annoyed that he still saw me as a connection. Like I was some sort of business opportunity to pursue. It was irritating, since I saw him as possibly the love of my life.

“Clare told me you were reconsidering, that’s all,” he said. I dropped my fork.

“You talked to Clare?” I asked. Justin stared at me.

“Sure.”

“How is she?” I asked. “Whatever happened with that Chris guy at the club? Did her brother lose that groupie? What happened to that nasty Mike guy?”

Justin stared at me. “Okay, whatever that just was, I don’t do that.”

“Do what?” I asked.

“Gossip, girl talk, whatever.”

I set my plate down on the ground. “Justin, I can’t talk to anyone. You need to be my go-between.”

“I don’t talk to Clare about boys. My reputation’s on the line.”

I picked at my food. “Sorry, I’m just feeling a little isolated right now.”

“It’s temporary,” he reminded me.

“What’s this surprise you had in store?” I asked. Justin’s eyes lit up and I watched him suspiciously. “What is that?” I asked, and pointed at the box.

“It just came in the mail.” He had a mischievous grin on his face.

“How do you get a delivery when no one’s supposed to know we’re here?”

“Well,” he said, and hesitated for a moment. “It’s my birthday today.”

My mouth flew open. “Justin – ”

He held his hand up in the air. “No, it’s not a big deal. I don’t really celebrate it. At least, not like most people.”

I stared back at him and wrinkled my eyebrows. “What do you mean ‘not like most people’?”

“I’m usually working on my birthday so I don’t make a big deal about it. But my dad always sends me something.” His eyebrows rose. “You want to see?”

I nodded and he opened the box and pulled out something covered in bubble wrap. He set it on the ground and ripped the plastic away to reveal a metal shell about the size of a football with wires sticking out of one end. He picked it up and rolled it around in his hands like he was holding a precious stone. I stood up and walked over to get a closer look.

“Your dad sent you junk metal for a birthday present?” I asked with confusion.

Justin smiled. “He likes to tinker,” he said, and his eyes caught mine. They had a daring edge, which made me a little anxious. “Usually with aerodynamic … things.”

I took a step back. “Aerodynamic things?” I asked.

He nodded. “He’s a retired inventor. But he still dabbles. I usually get the most random ones to test out. His latest… apparatus …had a few problems with the engine so he built a new one for me to try.”

“Good for you,” I said, still confused what this tiny mound of scrap metal was supposed to accomplish.

He pointed over his shoulder toward the garage and I turned to look. Inside was a small vehicle, about the size of a go-cart. I walked inside the garage to examine it. The black frame of the car was small, just large enough to fit two people. The side doors didn’t open, you had to climb over them to get in. The front of the car narrowed into a cone-shaped tip, giving it a sleek, bullet shape.

Justin grabbed a tool off the workbench. I noticed the words
Sand Rocket
spelled out in red letters on one side.

“What is this thing?” I asked. I bent down and examined the wheels. They were too small and delicate to be meant for driving any long distance.

“I’m not exactly sure,” he said. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

“We?”

I watched Justin attach the small engine to the back of the car. I ran my hand along the side and noticed the body of the car was soft, like it was made out of rubber.

“Are your dad’s inventions safe?” I asked.

“Define ‘safe,’” he said.

“Predictable.”

He smiled. “What’s the fun in that?”

I backed up and studied the car again. “Have you ever tried driving it?” I asked.

He shook his head. He tightened a few more screws and walked over to the driver’s seat. He turned on the power switch and the car coughed to life. The engine sounded strange, not like a car engine. More of a hissing sound, like a snake. Justin’s eyes met mine. They were wild, which I found both sexy and terrifying.

“You want to try it out?”

I gulped. “Where?”

He looked at me like it was obvious. “On the beach.”

I attempted a weak smile.

“Maybe I could just watch you, safely, from the side?” I offered. I saw the excitement in his eyes flicker with a hint of disappointment. I nodded in defeat and agreed I’d go with him after I changed.

I ran inside and threw on a pair of shorts and a tank top. The sky was a clear blue and the sun was making the humid air hot and muggy. I came back to the garage, fastening my hair in a ponytail, and Justin was still fiddling with the motor. It was attached somehow, but I was still skeptical it would do anything.

“Ready?” he asked.

I nodded and hopped inside the car.

Justin jumped in next to me. “You sure?”

“Let’s just go before I change my mind,” I answered. I fastened the seat belt as tight around my chest as it would fit without suffocating me and said a silent prayer this wouldn’t be the final hour of my life. I wondered if we crashed, maybe Justin would hold me in his arms and kiss me on my last breath of life. This idea made death seem a little less tragic.

We were so low to the ground I could reach my hand out and touch the garage floor. Justin fastened his seat belt and grabbed a hold of the steering wheel. He eased the car out of the garage and when we reached the driveway he tapped his foot lightly on the gas pedal.

The engine hissed and I felt my hair blow back as the car flew ahead. My eyes squeezed shut and I felt my body jerk forward and then snap back against the seat with a sudden stop. I slowly opened my eyes and we were across the street, on the neighbor’s front lawn, only a few feet away from crashing into the front door. We both blinked at the door and back at each other. I tried my best to laugh but it came out more like a long whine.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Yeah, just a little whiplash. It’s fine,” I assured him. “Neck muscles are overrated.”

Once Justin was convinced I was fine he looked back at the steering wheel and beamed. “That’s great pickup.” He laughed. “This baby’s going to work just fine.”