Wide Awake

  Andy came that morning and I took the ride, but on the way to school, I made sure to lay out that I wasn't available anymore and didn't have any interest in rekindling any old flames between us. And I didn't want his rides to school anymore either.

  "No guy in his right mind would dare try to date you," he scoffed as he pulled into the lot. "They know I'd tear their head off."

  "He's not from school. But do you hear yourself? You don't own me."

  "I know." He pulled into the same spot again. The one that was apparently saved for him. "I know that, babe, but everyone at this school knows that we've been together forever."

  I lifted my brow at him. "Not forever, right? Everyone at this school knows that you dated that other girl."

  He looked angry for a second, but then backtracked. "You sound jealous."

  "I'm not," I assured him. "I think if you want to be with her, you should go for it."

  He sighed and banged his fists on the steering wheel. "Damn it, Emma! Why are you fighting this so hard? Just give us a chance. You're writing us off before you even see if this can work or not."

  I nodded. "You're probably right, Andy," I said softly and knew that this was hard for him. As much as I didn't like him, he had been trying hard with me. "I'm sorry. I just can't pretend. If anything, all of this has shown me that life is too short. I'm sorry."

  "You owe it to me."

  "No, I don't." I straightened my back. "I owe it to myself."

  He shook his head vigorously. "No. I'm not giving up that easily."

  He got out, leaving me sitting in his car. I sighed and got out, too. I passed the group and went straight to my locker. Andy was brooding off to the side so I assumed that they thought we were in a fight.

  I opened my locker and saw a flash of blond in my peripheral. The girl I bumped into was in her locker a couple down from me. She was juggling her books and purse. I grabbed my first period book out and checked over my shoulder. My friends weren't even paying attention to me. Not that it mattered.

  I shut my locker and went up to her. "Hey."

  She glared at me with suspicion. "What?"

  "Nothing. Just hey." With that, I walked away. Baby steps. And I had to admit, it was fun knowing that she probably wondered who had possessed my body.

  I skipped through the day, avoiding Andy as much as possible. And at lunch, I skipped that, too. Going to the library to avoid lunch seemed too cliché, so I went out to sit on the lawn. There were a few picnic tables, but I just lay back. The sun was warm and it reminded me of the first time Mason had opened the blinds in my hospital room, letting me feel the sun for the very first time that I could remember.

  Someone else came outside, but as soon as she saw me, she stopped. It took me a second to realize who it was, but when she turned to bolt, I remembered. "Hey!" I called. She turned like I was about to shank her or something. "Hey, it's OK. Wanna sit?"

  She eyed me suspiciously, just like the girl at her locker had. I rolled my eyes. "It's OK. I won't bite."

  "Why do you want to talk to me? It's over, Andy and me."

  I nodded. "I know."

  "So…" She looked at me and tried to will me to go on. I didn't. "What?"

  "I just wanted you to know that I don't have it out for you or anything. I know my…friends made a fuss the other day, but that's not how I feel."

  She pressed her lips tightly and looked to be holding back a dam. She sat roughly on her knees in the grass and pressed her fingers to her lips. "He was so devastated after…" I nodded to let her know that I knew what she meant. "He moped around the halls for weeks. He was so angry, getting into fights and always skipping class. I felt so bad for him, and one day, I caught him really upset in the gym when no one else was there. He seemed really happy to have my help. I didn't know what I could do, but I listened… One thing led to another." She sniffed and hung her head. "I felt horrible. The guilt ate at me, and I could tell everyone at school thought I was a tramp or something. I felt so guilty, but he seemed to need me so much. He was so…clingy, almost. He was with me every day, and I'm not telling you that to make you jealous," she insisted.

  "I'm not jealous. I know he's trying, but…he's not for me."

  "But," her eyes widened, "he dumped me for you. You have to take him back."

  "No, I don't," I said softly. "I've already told him that if he wants to go back to you, he should. I don't want either of you to feel guilty about me."

  "You told him that?" she said, stunned.

  "Yeah," I dragged out.

  "But he hasn't…I mean, he hasn't spoken a word to me since, and he won't answer my texts. I just wanted to tell him it was OK, but he won't even talk to me."

  "How did you find out that I woke up?'

  "He left a note on my car at work." She sniffed again.

  I shook my head. "He broke up with you in a note on your car?"

  She nodded pathetically. "Yes," she whined. "And he hasn't spoken to me since. And I get it, you're back, that's great. I just wanted to make sure he was OK and to tell him that I understood why he needed to go back to you. But he won't…"

  "I'm sorry."

  She cringed back. "Why on earth are you apologizing to me?"

  "Because I know what's it like to wish things were different. For you to feel one way, but everyone else wants you to feel another."

  "Why don't you hate me?"

  "Like I said, I'm not who Andy's supposed to be with. He just feels guilty about me, but he'll come around eventually. When he does, if you still want him, don’t worry about me. I've moved on."

  "You're with someone?" she said and wiped her eye. I could tell she wanted to ask more.

  "Yeah." I stood, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. "He's really great. He kinda…saved me."

  She nodded, staying in her seat in the grass. "Are you happy?" She picked at a couple blades of dead grass and looked up at me. "Like, really happy?"

  "I'm not sure," I said truthfully. "That's like saying, Do you like apples? when you've never eaten any before."

  "But do you feel like you're on your way to being?"

  That, I could answer. "Absolutely. One way or another."

  I left her there in the grass, absolutely positive that we'd never speak again. Not that I didn't want to, but giving her the forgiveness she thought she needed to move on was what I had wanted. Now that she had it, I could almost guarantee she'd move on. She wouldn't wait for Andy to come around, because she knew in her heart that he wouldn't.

  That night, I had a session that I had forgotten about, but my parents insisted on coming with me to the hospital. So once again, I got to see Mason, but not see Mason. Even doing our exercises, they seemed extra interested and asked him a million questions about what these exercises were doing for me and how long it should take until I didn't need therapy anymore.

  They were on to us, I thought.

  I texted Mason on the way home and told him I was going to tell them about us before things got worse with them. He texted back to wait, that he wanted to tell them with me. He didn't want me to deal with that alone and it was only right to tell them himself. He wanted to explain himself and show respect for them while still letting them know that I was growing up and moving on. That he cared about me sincerely and this wasn't some crush that he was taking advantage of.

  I grinned through my almost-tears all the way.

  That night I soaked in a warm bath, as ordered by Mason. I went through my dresser drawers earlier in a scavenger hunt sort of way. I wasn't really looking for anything in particular, just looking. I found an MP3 player and decided to play something during my bath, maybe get a little peek of the old me in that music.

  But after flipping through album after album of teenie pop I'ma-go-to-da-club-and-rub-against-you-tonight's-the-night-for-letting-loose crap… I almost gave up, but then I came across something completely different. I waited for the song to change, to trick me into believing it was different, but it didn't. I even sat up, dried my
hand off with the towel, and looked to see who and what it was. It read Nobody Else Could Be You by Jason Reeves.

  The song was beautiful beyond words. His voice, smooth and emotional. It didn't make sense why I didn't know any of the songs in my own player, but Mason played that song at the hospital and I knew who it was. Why would my brain nitpick like that?

  I listened to that whole album, and then deleted everything on the player except that album.

  Another way of starting over.

  That night while putting on one of the silk nightgowns that Isabella had left on the bed for me, I sat on the bed and turned the radio on to see what the latest music was. It was so interesting how eclectic and random the music seemed to be. Isabella had buzzed my room to tell me supper was ready, but I said I wasn't hungry. She didn't sound happy about it, but probably just thought I was skipping meals for my figure.

  Whatever.

  So, with new tunes that I'd never heard of streaming through my room, I set to more exploring. I'd gone through all the drawers in the desk and dressers. The closet was empty of almost everything but new clothes and shoes. I threw all the make-up away, except the colors that I thought were my speed. My love for flavored lipgloss must have stuck with me because I still found myself putting it on constantly. I had unpacked my stuff from the hospice and put the Christmas presents over on the corner window sill. It didn't seem right to open presents that really weren't for me. It seemed fitting for them to stay in the window sill. They belonged there...for now, at least.

  I was going through an old purse and dumping all the trash from school and gum wrappers when a thought hit me.

  I wondered if I ever had a diary. Finding something that would help me see what the old me was like would have been like Christmas, even if I didn't like what I found. And as I had the thought, an idea popped into my head.

  The bed.

  I crawled across the floor from my perch and slid my hand between the mattress, running it along the seam. Jackpot.

  I pulled it out quickly and leaned against the bed with my back as I opened the book on my lap. The first page almost made me close it.

  It's hard being gorgeous, but someone has to do it.

  There seemed to be just one or two lines on each day. The first day seemed to be in August. The first day of school, I bet. I flipped the page to the next one.

  Andy and I had sex in the boys' locker room again today. He has completely stopped worrying about my pleasure, and instead, is done with me the second he finds his. Boys.

  I covered my stunned lips. I sounded so uncaring and just fine with it. Like it annoyed me, but not enough to do anything about it. And it brought up the unpleasant reminder that I wasn't a virgin. The fact that I gave it away so carelessly and didn't even seem to enjoy it at all made me feel so sorry for her, for the old Emma.

  Daddy bought me the new Dooney & Bourke today.

  The next day.

  Rachel Simmons wore that God-awful skirt and everyone saw her lady-junk at lunch today. Priceless.

  The next day.

  The group went to the movies and saw the new Channing Tatum. The boys laughed and the girls drooled. Channing, run away with me, baby.

  The next day.

  If Kali doesn't do something about those cankles, I'll be forced to kick her from the squad. God...what a pig. She thinks she hides those packages of SweetTarts in her locker well, but she's an amateur playing in the big leagues.

  And the next day.

  Andy took me to Valentino's on the river for my birthday. He can be such a sweetie when he wants to be. Now if he'll only get me the Gwen Stefani tickets I want for our anniversary, I won't cut him off.

  The next.

  Misty, the Big Red Freak, was caught paying for her lunch today with a free lunch school card. I didn't even have to retaliate that she was eying Andy like a popsicle at the pep rally. One word, skank. Karma.

  That was it, the final push that was too much. I threw the book across the room. Karma... karma...

  What exactly was good about that girl? She was horrible and too honest and uncaring. She cared about nothing and no one but her things and her ranking among the fellow students. I got up and grabbed the pink and purple book from the floor. The radio still played softly in the background and there it was again. That song. My hands began to shake as that distinctive guitar rang out. My knees buckled and I tried to catch my breath as I knelt on my knees. Yeah, Yeah, Yeah...

  That sound not only took my breath, it made me feel wrong. It invited feelings in me that even waking up in the hospital hadn't. I vaguely heard the door open and Isabella saying my name. She ran to turn the radio off and knelt on the floor beside me. "Oh, Emma! What's happening? What's the matter?"

  "That song..." I tried to explain.

  "The song...you're remembering?" she said hopefully. "Is that why you have a headache, because you're brain hurts?"

  I pushed her hand away. "No. I'm not remembering." I took a few deep breaths, letting the air clean away the horrible, grimy feeling from before. "I heard that song in the hospital, too. It makes me feel...bad."

  "Bad? Bad as in, you don't like it?" she said, clearly not understanding.

  "No. Like something bad is tied to it. I have no idea what or why."

  "Oh," she replied with disappointment. "Well...you've been home for a couple weeks now. I would have thought that you'd remember something by now."

  I felt my fist clench around the book that I'd written. "Here." I shoved it at her. "Take it. This is what your daughter was like. I found her diary, of sorts. Go on, take it." She reached for it and looked at it lovingly. I rolled my eyes in disgust. "Keep it. I don't want to see it again."

  "Emma," she placated and it was too much.

  "I'm going to bed. Good night."

  "Without any supper?"

  "I'm not hungry," I said softly.

  "What about cheerleading practice?" she asked, as though everything was fine and she hadn't just found me in a ball on the floor.

  "I just want to go to sleep, go to school, do my therapy, survive, and then repeat." I gave her a pleading look. "Please. I know you're disappointed, but I can't do anything more right now."

  She pursed her lips in the way that I was becoming accustomed to. "OK, Emmie. OK."

  She left, taking that horrible book with her. I looked over at the bed Emmie used to sleep in. There was no way I was sleeping in her bed tonight. So I put my clothes on, took my purse and bag with me for school tomorrow, just in case, and went to the only place in the whole world lately that I felt safe and loved, just as I was.

  Mason's car wasn't there yet when I walked up, so I went into the shop to wait for him. His jacket was still on the chair where we'd left it the last time, so I swung it over my torso and huddled on the couch.

  It wasn't very long before I saw headlights. I hadn't turned the lights on because I didn't want to scare Mason's mom or the nurse. I figured if he didn't come in to the shop, I'd go knock on the door. But he did come in, barreling through the door with a giggling, moaning girl.

  Useless Fact Number Thirteen

  The average person falls asleep in seven minutes.

  I stared as he slammed the door with his foot and hoisted her onto the tabletop, pawing at her shirt.

  I watched the silhouette of the back of his head in the dark for so long that I knew I needed to leave before something that I really wanted no part of happened between the two. I could watch no longer, and stood. I started to make my way to the door, covering my eyes and wishing upon everything I knew that I could shield my ears from those horrible noises.

  I ran out, and just as the tears began, hot, betrayed, and stinging on my cheeks, more headlights pulled into the driveway. The beater? I stared as Mason got out and threw his keys up into the air a bit, catching them in his hand. He saw me standing under the tree and stopped. "Em?" He moved swiftly to me and took my face in his hands carefully. "Oh, no. What happened?"

  I opened my mouth to say,
but nothing would come. We heard something shatter in the shop and a loud laugh, followed by that annoying giggle. He looked at me curiously, took my hand, and towed me with him. He slammed the door open and turned the light on. The guy that had been there the other night was there with a girl. She was pretty and had a little tattoo of a heart on the side of her neck. She gasped and covered her top half with her shirt and arms. He tried to cover her, too, while still trying to find out what was going on. He squinted in the lights. "Mason? I thought you said you were busy tonight?"

  "My sessions ended early." He crossed his arms and gave him a look. "What the hell?"

  "I think it's obvious, brother."

  The girl gasped. "Baby, come on." She was so obviously embarrassed that I walked out and leaned against the side of the house. I heard her again. "Mason, I'm sorry. I figured we'd come visit, but then we got here and no one was here. He didn't say you were busy tonight. This big lug can't keep his hands to himself."

  Mason laughed. "Patrice, it's fine. Normally it doesn't matter, but..." he peeked outside and grinned as he took my hand to pull me back inside with him, "I think you scared the hell out of Emma."

  "Emma," she said softly and looked at the guy. "The one you told me about?"

  The 'big lug' nodded and grinned at me. "Hello again, Emma."

  "Hi," I said. "Sorry. Didn't mean to break up the...party. I was just..." I pointed to the couch where my purse and bag still were, "waiting for Mason."

  "Wait. You were in here?" the guy asked. It was kind of hilarious to see this big, burly, leather-wearing, tattooed guy blush.

  "I was waiting for him...and I thought..." I sighed.

  Mason turned me to look at him. He took in my face and eyes. "You thought it was me," he stated factually.

  I already felt chagrined about it as it was. Mason's head shook back and forth as my silence gave him my answer. He touched my cheek, pulling me close. "Em, you've got to know by now that I don't want anyone but you."

  I bit my lip. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

  "Don't be sorry." He smiled. Before I could think, I swooped up and kissed his smile. When I pulled away, he brought me back and kissed me again, a little harder and longer this time. When I opened my eyes, he hadn't moved back. He just looked at me with this look like he wanted to say so much more, but couldn't. I peeked over at the girl and guy. They stood slack-jawed, open mouthed, and silent. I cleared my throat a little and leaned back down, but into Mason's side.