Awaken (3 page)

“You’re using the semicolon wrong,” he said once, and I shrunk away from him. First, he leaned in way too close to tell me that and I could feel his breath stir my hair. Second, why was he looking over my shoulder? Who was the tutor here?

“I see you bite your nails too,” he said another time, and I sat on my hands and tightened my lips.

“So what?” I asked.

“Don’t get so defensive. It’s not a crime.”

“According to my mom it is,” I said. I pulled my hands out and frowned at my ragged nail beds. “She tries to force-feed me gum when I do it, but I can’t chew gum.”

“What?” he asked.

“It’s weird. I swallow it right away. This one day, I swallowed four pieces of gum in a single afternoon. I thought I was going to be the first person to die from gum buildup clogging my stomach cavity.” I shut my mouth before another word could escape. Why couldn’t I be online right now? Definitely would have deleted that one.

Justin stared at me and raised a single eyebrow. I felt my face blush and looked down at my flipscreen to avoid his eyes.

“I think that’s the most random thing I’ve ever heard,” he finally said, and his lips turned up at the corners. As if his grin was contagious, I smiled back at him, a genuine smile that I don’t think I’ve worn in months. In that instant I felt something inside of me shift, as though a hollow shell in my chest had cracked open and something warm flooded in. I glanced over at the three girls sitting in front of us. Maybe random is more alluring than glitter this season.

While Mike made his way around the room to answer individual questions, I called Justin out on his own quirky behavior, as he had yet to do a second of work. I leaned toward him, a wave of confidence coming over me.

“So, why are you really here?” I whispered. “You’re not paying any attention to this.”

He hesitated for a moment and then leaned toward me and fixed his eyes on mine. I could smell the cotton of his T-shirt, or maybe it was his skin, but it was sweet and strong and I inhaled a deep breath. I forgot people carry a scent, an energy that a computer can’t transmit.

“I finished this assignment already,” he said. “I don’t come here for help. I could lead this if I wanted.”

“Then why do you come here?” I whispered back.

Justin looked at me as if the answer was obvious. “To be around people. It’s one of the only ways I can.”

I creased my eyebrows at him and had to make an effort to whisper. “What? Are you nuts?”

He leaned closer. “I think people are nuts to shut themselves inside all day long. We’re cutting ourselves off from each other and it’s only going to get worse.”

I felt goose bumps rise up on my arms. I grinned at him.

“And you think going to study groups and doodling in your notebook is going to change things?”

Justin smiled back, a plotting smile that held uncountable meanings.

“I have a plan,” he said.

As Mike wrapped up the study session, I turned off my flipscreen and packed it in my bag. Justin slid his notebook back in his pocket and waited for the other students to clear out. The three girls in the front row walked to the door and the tall, confident one looked back at Justin and waved while her friends glared at me, stupefied.

I wouldn’t be invited to join Team Sparkle anytime soon. Bummer.

Justin nodded back at the girls, still making no effort to leave. The last two students filed out and I finally stood up and pulled my bag strap over my shoulder.

“It’s been interesting,” I said. Justin stood up and pushed his chair back. He towered over me and I felt stunted by his height.

“Not a total loss?” he asked me.

I fidgeted with my bag strap. “I did finish the assignment,” I offered, as I tried to downplay the ridiculous crush that was forming and how clearly it must be written on my face.

We walked outside in silence and the brisk night air was a relief compared to the stagnant, sterile air in the office building. I wasn’t sure how to do the whole “Nice to meet you, keep in touch” kind of thing. Do we shake hands? Bump fists? Do one of those awkward side hugs? Instead of waiting to make a fool out of myself, I took a step toward the train stop but I felt a tug on my sleeve.

“I can give you a ride home,” he said.

Justin pointed over his shoulder at a dark sports car and I blinked hard as if I was seeing things.

I stared up at the night sky. “Could this day be any more bizarre?” I asked.

“You’ve never been in a car?”

“You’re looking at me like
I’m
strange. They’re practically outlawed.”

There’s no need for cars these days with all the Amtraks, ZipShuttles, light rails, and subways available. They’re permitted on some of the existing freeways and residential streets, but I can go days without seeing one. Even my dad thinks owning a car is out of the question; besides, anything that evokes a sense of freedom is banned from our property. Cars should only be used for emergency or law enforcement.

Justin pulled his baseball cap low over his head and studied me, his eyes shaded under the rim. “I guess this is a lot of new experiences in one day. I don’t want to overwhelm you,” he said, but there was an edge in his voice, like he was daring me.

I walked around the car, parked like an obedient animal waiting to be unleashed, and studied the side body, the tires with their silver sparkling chrome, the sleek glass windows. It was tempting. I ran my hand along the smooth surface of the roof.

“Why do you have a car?” I asked.

He shrugged. “It’s a long story.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I have time.”

He gave me a long stare and I returned it. He opened up the passenger door.

“Your parents are probably expecting you home,” he stated. Before I could argue, Mike called out to us. He waved from the bottom of the steps and jogged across the street.

“You own a Mustang?” he asked when he met us. He rubbed his hand along the sleek rooftop with fascination, just as I had done. He and Justin started talking makes and models and years and they lost me at “eight-cylinder engine.” After a thorough discussion of turbochargers, Mike turned and handed me a business card.

“I wanted to give you this,” he said. “Chat me anytime if you have questions.” I thanked him and tucked the card in my jeans pocket. He turned and headed down the street and Justin motioned for me to get in.

When I slid inside, the first thing I noticed was the smell, a mixture of leather, plastic, and metal filled the air as if the car had been assembled recently and all its components were still airing out. I ran my hand along the tan leather seat. Justin started the car by pressing a button next to the steering wheel and I jumped in my seat when rap music pounded through the speakers.

“Sorry,” he said, and turned down the stereo. “Fasten up, all right?” He pointed over my shoulder to where the seat belt was. I stiffened as his eyes, his lips, his profile, came so close to my own.

He pulled away from the curb and I watched one of his hands turn the steering wheel while the other one shifted gears. I was jealous of the freedom he had at his fingertips. Everything I had ever ridden in was controlled by tracks, contained, predictable. ZipShuttles ran off of electric waves and always stayed in their designated lanes. They ran about every five minutes and you could get personal ZipShuttles anytime you wanted. Businesses, like grocery stores and the post office, used them for all of their deliveries. It was so convenient I never imagined traveling another way.

I told Justin where I lived and he shifted gears and kept his eyes on the road.

“So, why did you really invite me to this tutor session?” I asked him.

“I wanted to meet you in person,” he said, and his eyes met mine in the darkness of the car. He turned back to look at the road and I studied his profile while I had the chance. I noticed a small dent in the bridge of his nose and the way his jaw curved and framed his face and lips that made my chest heat up every time I let my eyes linger on them. I turned away so I could think clearly.

“What did you mean when you said ‘
We
have a lot of work to do’?” I asked him.

He shifted gears and we picked up speed. Justin focused straight ahead and I saw his mouth tighten, either out of confusion or hesitation. I decided to elaborate before he could play dumb.

“During the tutor session, when I didn’t want to say my name, you said ‘
We
have a lot of work to do.’ Who’s
we
?”

“You like to start out complicated,” he said.

“What did you think I was going to ask you? What your favorite color is?”

“It’s pink,” he said with a small grin. He looked over at me and I rolled my eyes. “Okay,” he said. “W refers to my friends and me.” He paused as if he was editing his answer, being careful not to expose too much. “Let’s just say, we don’t like the way society’s headed and we’re trying to rub off on people. Motivate a change.”

“What do you want to change, exactly?”

He paused before he answered, his eyes on the road. “Basic life as we know it,” he said. “Culture, government, the environment, education. Sitting at home all day in front of an electric device mistaking yourself into thinking you’re living and experiencing. You think those are really friends you’re making?”

I looked out the window and fought the urge to smile. I wanted to say I agreed with him, that deep down I always felt like DS had gone too far, that it was isolating people. But Justin could express his opinions with no consequences, whereas my past mistakes trained me to behave.

“Are you telling me I haven’t lived?” I asked. “That’s pretty harsh.”

“No, it’s not,” he said, and shifted gears again. “How often have you left your house this week?”

“What does that matter? Just because I stay inside doesn’t mean I haven’t experienced anything. It’s the way people live now.”

“Does that mean it’s right?” he argued. “To be controlled and spoon-fed knowledge and experiences other people have decided is necessary for you? Computers have turned life into a digital world and people are so wrapped up by the convenience of it all that they don’t care they’re as plugged in as machines.”

A line of ZipShuttles whirred past us and a gust of wind shook the car. “Maybe more people agree with you than you think,” I said.

“A lot of people
agree
with me. It’s easy to have an opinion. But change only comes when you put your ideas into action.” His dark eyes met mine. “Don’t you think?”

“Okay, next question. How old are you?”

The corner of his lips turned up.

“You don’t look like a teenager,” I added.

“What makes you say that?”

“You carry yourself differently. Are you still in DS four?”

He laughed and I watched him closely. His face tightened as he thought about how to answer this. He glanced at the rearview mirror and shook his head.

“No, I’m not in DS four.”

“What about college? That takes another two or three years of DS, sometimes longer – ”

“I never went.”

I creased my eyebrows. That was ridiculous. Digital college was free – I’d never met a person that passed it up. Justin pushed the boundaries of conventional, which, I had to admit, only made him more intriguing.

“Why didn’t you go?”

“Let’s just say there’s only so much of life that can be taught by pushing a bunch of buttons and looking at a screen.” He took a fast turn around the corner and I could feel the car accelerate.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“First, I have one for you.” His eyes focused on the rearview mirror. “Call me paranoid, but do you think we’re being followed?”

I turned around to see headlights in the distance.

“This car has been on my tail since we left downtown,” he said.

“Unbelievable,” I said, and sighed loudly. “He’s tracked me before.” Justin raised his eyebrows at my casual tone.

“Who’s tracked you?”

“My father,” I said plainly. “He must have planted a bug on me before I left the house.”

“So, this is common for you?” he asked. He shifted gears and I could hear the engine groan when we accelerated.

I watched the car in my sideview mirror. “It’s a little control game he likes to play with me.”

“This car’s going to follow us all the way back to your house?” Justin asked me. His voice sounded more annoyed than shocked.

“Unless you think you can lose him,” I joked. He looked over at me and his eyes lit up. A wide smile broke out on his face.

He suddenly turned a sharp corner and we were met by the bright headlights of a train in our path. Justin switched lanes and zigzagged around a caravan of ZipShuttles. He shifted gears and my body flew back against the seat as we gained speed. I glanced over my shoulder to see headlights close behind us. When I looked back at the road, two blinding train headlights headed straight for us and a horn blared so loud it made the car shake. I squeezed my eyes shut and felt my body jerk as Justin swerved out of the lane, dodging the train at the last second. I tried to catch my breath. “We’re driving on a main train route,” I pointed out.

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing,” he said, his voice steady. “Except it’s going to be hard to lose this guy if you think you’re bugged.”

I nodded and grabbed the flipscreen out of my bag like he just gave me an order. I turned it on and tried to type but the car was swerving so much I could barely keep my fingers on the keys.

“What are you doing?” he asked over the noise of a train shooting past us.

I pointed at the screen like it was obvious. “Trying to find the bug,” I said.

He drove onto an emergency vehicle lane and red and blue lights snapped on. A piercing siren blared to warn pedestrians to get out of the way. Blinking lights rotated dizzyingly and my heart raced as we flew past groups of people, frozen in place and staring with shock at a car using the emergency lane like a highway.

“Why does your dad track you?” Justin demanded over the wail of the sirens.

“We have a trust issue,” I shouted back, as if every father/ daughter relationship involves spies and tracking devices. When I found the site I was looking for, I ran a search to detect the signal. My computer scanned the space of Justin’s car and in a few seconds, a signal was located. I wrinkled my eyebrows at the screen to discover the bug was in … my hair?