Awaken (The Awaken Series Book 1)

by Maggie Sunseri

  “How are you?” she asked, leading me into the kitchen.

  “I’m...” I was a lot of things at that moment. “Changing,” I blurted.

  May pursed her lips, gesturing for me to take a seat in one of the barstools as she put a pot of water on the stove.

  “Peach tea?” She offered, as if I hadn’t said a word.

  I was flooded with memories at the sound of my favorite childhood beverage. Flashes of a younger me running around my beautiful aunt’s home. And memories of my fingers curled around a warm mug of tea, talking for hours with my favorite (and only) aunt.

  I was built for colder weather, the heat of summer keeping me hidden indoors. At the end of a day with my aunt, I’d collapsed on the couch. I’d listened to her intricate stories as she made them up on the spot, my eyes fluttering as I’d tried to stay awake to hear the endings.

  Thick socks kept my feet warm on a cold winter day, my eager eyes would take in May’s lovely curls, bouncing as we danced, the smell of hot chocolate and pine trees in the air. Aunt May would read from a forbidden storybook about a mysterious day called Christmas. I’d listened with excitement and wonder as she described a magical man who flew around the earth, giving presents to every child as they slept.

  “Why doesn’t Santa visit Oportet?” I always asked, feeling disappointment and dread envelop my innocent heart.

  Aunt May then explained that Santa Claus had retired; his late night travels were too dangerous for him in his old age.

  I learned the truth when I was older. Christmas was strictly forbidden from Oportet. In a moment of childlike disobedience, I had decided to go against Aunt May’s warning for me to keep her stories between the two of us. Before I could even finish my retelling of “The Night Before Christmas,” I was torn away from my classmates and given a severe paddling. I lied and told my teacher that I had overheard older kids in my neighborhoods telling the story. My teacher figured they were disobedient teenagers from the Outside.

  Now at my aunt’s house for the first time in way too long, I realized that I had been staring off into space. I had so many memories with my aunt, yet I hadn’t spoken to her in years.

  May raised an eyebrow.

  “Sorry, um, tea sounds good,” I mumbled.

  “So…changing,” May murmured, reminding me what I had said when I entered.

  “Why did you break rules with me?” I asked.

  May dropped the teakettle, and it clanked loudly as it slammed down on the countertop. Her eyes widened as she fumbled for the teapot and placed it on the burner.

  “I didn’t think they were right. You were just a child….” She looked away. The marble counter was suddenly more interesting than looking directly at me.

  “How did you even get that stuff from the Outside?” At this, her head snapped up, finally meeting my eyes. I remembered a hidden stash in her pantry where she kept a collection of storybooks, novels, and music. I never told anyone, even when I learned how wrong she was for having the forbidden media.

  “Why did you come here, Luna?” She asked, avoiding my question. Her tone was soft, curious even, like she was urging me to tell her everything.

  I took in a breath. “I have questions…about Oportet. And I needed to talk to someone. Someone who understands.”

  May pressed her lips together in a thin line. She fidgeted with her hands as the kettle began to wail. She poured our tea in silence, leaving me doubting my judgment. May was younger when she was breaking rules for me…what if she had changed? What if she was going to get me in trouble with my parents, or worse, the Council?

  “You haven’t spoken to your parents about this, have you?” She tapped her fingers on the counter as she waited for my answer.

  “No.” How could I? They would freak out, maybe even force me to meet with some kind of counselor for troubled teens. Questioning the mechanics of Oportet was never taken lightly.

  Children can get away with asking the why questions, but the answers were to be where the discussion ended. There was no place for dwelling upon any perceived flaws in the system, because everyone was taught from a young age that the system was perfect. The Council was perfect, the rules were perfect, Oportet was perfect—and if I were to believe that all of those things were true—then I was perfect.

  “Well, don’t,” May said. “They’re too far gone to be rational, but you’ve obviously woken up. You have a chance now, Luna.”

  “A chance for what?”

  May smiled. It was a smile full of sadness and pain, yet it was also filled with something else—hope.

  “A chance to be free.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Bittersweet. Seeing Aunt May alive was as depressing as it was joyous. As the happiness of having a conversation with May surfaced, the reality that I would never be able to talk to my beautiful aunt again darkened my memories. She was gone, and nothing from the past was going to change that fact.

  I lifted a hand to my mouth, as if the sensation of Jasper’s lips on mine could have left a tangible mark. I liked the kiss from last night much better than the kiss from my memory. It was obvious that we had improved over time. Not that it mattered, considering the shredded state of our relationship. Maybe all I had were my memories.

  Morning light streamed in through my open window, and a breeze swept through my room, blowing papers off my desk and tickling my bare skin. I pushed out of bed and slammed the window shut, catching a glimpse of a note on the floor in front of me. I picked it up, immediately recognizing the handwriting from the last note warning me not to trust anyone.

  This one read: No one can know you remember.

  The only person who knew I was remembering things was Jasper, but he already knew I was going to keep this a secret. Why was he being so paranoid? Plus, I thought he was angry with me. Not that this bipolar behavior was any different than his actions these last few weeks.

  One day I was a three-headed monster with fangs, the next Jasper kissed me like I was the air he needed to breathe. Now he was freaking out about a letter I may or may not have written. The back and forth was giving me whiplash.

  I made myself promise to push all thoughts of Jasper out of my mind, as hard as that would be. I’d made it clear last night that I wasn’t coming to him. If he wanted to see me, he’d have to make the effort.

  I needed to figure out what happened to me last spring without tipping off my family or Councilman Tomlinson. I was growing certain that my accident was a case of foul play, a powerful reason to stay quiet. If Tomlinson found a way to take away my memories once, then he could do it again. Whatever screw-up that allowed me to remember might not happen a second time. The thought of losing Jasper—of losing myself—forever sent a stab of pain through my chest. I would fade into the mindless robotics of Oportet, and I doubted I could find a way to wake myself up again. Tomlinson would surely know better the second time around. I’d never be left alone. I’d be constantly monitored. I was not going to let any of that happen.

  I would not forget again.

  ~~~~~

  I was bored out of my mind by the end of the week. I hadn’t recalled a single memory since Saturday, and I was stuck when it came to investigating my accident. Who was I even supposed to talk to about it? The only people with the answers were the ones who couldn’t know I was on to anything. I couldn’t help but think of how Jasper would know what to do.

  Not thinking of Jasper was impossible. The fact that he hadn’t made an effort to see me made it even worse. Why did everything have to be so difficult with him? It was easy to be with him in my memories but I couldn’t pinpoint what had changed.

  Of course I couldn’t. I hadn’t remembered it yet. That realization painfully illuminated my need to remember. The frustration of not being in control of my own mind overwhelmed me. I was being suffocated.

  It was Friday night, which meant Megan was off at a friend’s house. Lately she seemed to be at her friends’ houses more than her own.

  Both of my
parents were home from work, but they barely acknowledged my existence during the past week. I usually got some sort of “what have you been up to today?” from Father, and a “have you made your decision yet?” from Mother. They wanted me to make up my mind about my occupation.

  I slowed just before reaching the living room, the sound of hushed voices lashing out at each other from the kitchen freezing me in my tracks. I crept up to the closed door, struggling to make out my parents muffled words.

  “He got the note! I left it on his porch and then watched him pick it up and bring it into his house.” Father sounded exasperated, and I couldn’t make out Mother’s reply. Her voice was much lower in volume. “He should feel nothing for her now,” Father said insistently.

  Mother said something else, still too low for me to hear.

  “Fine. I’ll talk to her.” There was silence for a moment. “You know it doesn’t matter anyway. She doesn’t remember him.”

  My heart beat wildly inside my chest, the realization of what my parents were discussing hit me hard. I was certain it wasn’t me who wrote the letter last spring, but I had no idea why my parents would have.

  I scurried away, settling on the couch with my book about teaching high school English. I already knew my choice, but telling my parents would mean that my future in Oportet was locked into place. I wasn’t sure that was what I wanted anymore.

  “Luna? Where are you?” Father called.

  “Living room,” I replied, on high alert after what I had just overheard. Footsteps approached, and I was careful not to lift my head from my book. I scanned over the words without actually reading them.

  “I need to talk to you about something.” I lifted my eyes as Father dropped down on the couch across from me. “Why are you reading in the dark?” he asked before I could say anything. I looked around, for the first time noticing the lack of light.

  “Oh, um, I don’t know,” I mumbled. He raised his eyebrows at me before flipping on the lamp.

  “Are you familiar with the name Jasper Williams?” I struggled to maintain my composure at his bluntness, but then I remembered that no one knew about my regained memories. That name should trigger no emotion from the memory-wiped Luna.

  I appeared to be thinking hard. “I…I don’t think so.” I paused. “Wait, maybe. I think Jenna told me that he was the creep who keeps talking to me. I think he’s crazy.” I watched Father’s face visibly relax.

  I took a deep breath, my palms sweating. I subtly wiped them on my floral skirt, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

  Father cleared his throat. “Yes, well, this young man is not someone to associate with. Let me know if he tries to talk to you again, and we can do something to tip the scales of his trial.”

  “Trial?” Unease rushed through my veins. Something was very, very wrong.

  Father took in a breath, obviously debating on whether or not to reveal any more on the subject. After a brief pause, he continued. “The Council has reason to believe that Jasper sympathizes with the Outside.”

  What did that even mean? Was this my fault?

  “We’re fairly certain how the Council will rule. Don’t you worry, Luna. You know what happens to disorderly Outsiders.” My head pounded, and I stopped breathing altogether. Jasper might be kicked out of Oportet.

  “They’ll kick him out,” I deadpanned, slowly letting out the breath I held. I sensed a hint of worry leaking into my voice, and Father’s eyes flickered to me.

  He looked away before speaking. “Yes,” he said finally, in almost a whisper.

  ~~~~~

  I had to call Jasper. He needed to know that I didn’t write that letter, that I remembered our real first kiss, that I was beginning to remember being in love with him, and that he couldn’t go. I wouldn’t let him go.

  I leaned against my bedframe, listening to the phone ring in my ear, holding onto it so tight that my knuckles ached.

  “Hello?” Lilly’s sweet voice sounded on the other line. I detected a hint of nervousness in her voice. Was she afraid that it was the Council calling? Was she afraid that they were going to take her son away?

  “It’s Luna. Can I talk to him? Please?” I bit my lip, feeling more and more dread with each passing second that the other line was silent. She had to let me talk to him.

  “You remember.”

  I let out a sigh of relief. She didn’t hang up. “Yes, I remember.”

  “Jasper told me about what happened. He never tells me anything anymore….” She trailed off.

  I didn’t have time to discuss the dynamics of Lilly’s mother-son relationship. “Can I please talk to him? It’s important.” I no longer cared how impatient I sounded.

  “Yeah he’s right—” I heard shuffling, and an exchange of words between two voices. I assumed one was Jasper; I was so close to hearing his voice. “Oh, um, I’m sorry. Jasper isn’t here anymore.”

  “What do you mean he’s not there anymore?” I wanted to bang my head against the wall.

  “He just walked out the front door.”

  The phone slipped from my fingers. I fell back and gazed at my ceiling fan in defeat. I could hear my name faintly being called through the phone. I sighed and lifted it back to my ear.

  “Thanks anyway. Just tell him to call me back, I guess.”

  “Alright. Have a good night.” I was about to hang up when she said, “If you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here.”

  “Okay, thanks. That’s very kind of you.” I would have appreciated the gesture more if I wasn’t so disappointed. How would I ever go to sleep knowing Jasper’s time in Oportet was being counted down, and he wouldn’t even talk to me?

  I didn’t feel like changing for bed, so I just lay on my back with my eyes shut. I tried to clear my mind, using the relaxation technique I created on the day of my OGS. I took each of my worries and sorted them, then locked them all away. I let each thought pass through my mind until there was almost nothing left. Everything was quiet. Everything was peaceful.

  My state of calm made the noise at my window crack like a gunshot. I bolted upright, petrified as I watched the unlocked window slide open. My eyes darted around my room, looking for a weapon. They landed on the lamp on my bedside table. I shot out of bed and into action, grabbing the lamp and holding it out in front of me like a sword.

  It took me a few seconds before I realized that the lamp was still plugged into the wall. I tried to jerk it out, but it was stuck on something. I frantically backed up to my door, ready to make a run for it.

  “A hand please?” Jasper.

  I crept up to the window, meeting his dark eyes with a flurry of emotions.

  “I was kidding, Luna. Get out of the way.” I let out a breath of relief at the humor in his voice.

  He placed his palms against the windowsill, propelling himself into my room. After a few seconds of debating, I gave into my gut instinct and ran into his arms. I must have taken him by surprise, because he lost his balance and slammed into the wall, taking me with him.

  I heard the thump of his head hitting the surface, followed by a stream of hushed obscenities. He placed his hands on my shoulders and gently pulled me off of him, rubbing the back of his head with a grimace.

  “What was that?” Jasper muttered. “Are your parents home? That was really loud.”

  “No, they’re at some kind of top secret government conference.” I took in a breath. “You can’t leave Oportet!” I blurted, watching his eyes widen.

  Jasper ran a hand through his hair and intertwined his fingers with mine. He led me back to my bed, sitting next to me in silence. I felt a trail of warmth where his thumb continued to trace over my hand.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t want you to do anything stupid.”

  I felt anger boiling in my chest. He’d better believe I would do something stupid for him.

  “There’s nothing you can do to save me.”

  “I’ll find a way,” I vowed.

  Jasper s
hook his head. “Luna—”

  “Can’t we go to the Outside together? I could do something to piss off the Council and they could send me with you.” I wasn’t even thinking clearly anymore. I was desperate.

  Jasper snapped his head around to look into my eyes, the intensity high enough for me to flinch.

  “Stop. Just stop. You know that’s not how it works.”

  I looked away.

  “They would just make you forget again.”

  I knew he was right, but I couldn’t help but imagine a life for us outside Oportet. Did I really have the guts to leave with Jasper?

  “I don’t want to lose you again.” He lifted a hand and brushed his fingers along my cheekbones.

  “I’ll find a way,” I repeated. “I promise.”

  Something heartbreaking crept into Jasper’s eyes—emptiness.

  “You aren’t telling me something,” I said.

  Jasper froze, but then his face softened. He opened his mouth to speak—probably to defend himself—but decided against it.

  He moved his hand off mine and lifted it to my face, successfully ridding my mind of all thoughts. I knew exactly what he was doing. I was just too weak to fight it.

  “I didn’t write that letter last year,” I said. “My parents did.”

  Jasper stared at me in confusion, his forehead creasing. “What?”

  “I overheard them talking about it. That’s how I found out about your trial. My father said he left it on your front porch and watched you get it.”

  Jasper’s face looked white. “Oh my god.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe this.”

  “I don’t understand…why would my parents write the letter?”

  “It kind of makes sense. They hated that we were together. Wait, you don’t know that yet, do you?”

  I shook my head.

  “Well, when they found out they went ballistic. That’s when I found out just how deep the stigma against Outsiders really ran.”

  I nodded, but I still wasn’t completely on the same page. The frustration coursed through me. I would never be on the same page. Not without my memories.