Awaken

by Katie Kacvinsky

  “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. “We 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 tr
ust 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?

  I ran my fingers through my hair, which fell long and straight. There was nothing in it. Then it all came together, why Mike ran out to talk to us tonight and why he slid his hand along the roof of the car.

  “Huh,” I muttered to myself. I opened the window and stretched my arm over the roof until I felt the bug latched to the cold, metal surface. Justin watched me as I pulled my hand back and held out a thin, magnetic chip, about the size of a quarter.

  “I think this bug needs to catch a train headed straight for Canada,” I said, picturing the heated look on my father’s face when he discovered I was fleeing the country. Justin smirked and guessed my thoughts.

  “That might not help your trust issues,” he pointed out as we swerved down the road. The car bounced and dipped between train tracks and I held on to the dashboard to steady myself. I looked back and the car behind us was still gaining ground. Justin pointed to a grab handle above my window.

  “Hold on to that,” he said quickly. I grabbed the handle and braced myself. He swerved over two lanes, nearly sideswiping a ZipShuttle. The other car followed and was right behind us again. He whipped the steering wheel and we spun off the road, the tires screeching and kicking up dust, just as a train flew by, blocking off the other car. He hit the brakes and the car squealed to a stop at the edge of the railway. Justin’s arm was stretched out in front of me to hold me back in case I flew forward. He dropped his arm and just as I was about to take a breath of relief, another train sped toward us. I squeezed my eyes shut and swore under my breath. Justin accelerated over the curb onto the turf, speeding over the plastic grass landscape, barely missing the train as it pummeled by. The sports car jostled over bumps in the ground and we swerved around a scattering of plastic trees and shrubs.

  “This is the scenic portion of the drive,” he said, and I laughed out loud, finally opening my eyes.

  “It’s thoughtful of you.”

  We drove over the turf until we reached the next intersection and turned toward a tunnel heading downtown to the international station. I looked over my shoulder, but I didn’t see headlights behind us. We entered the tunnel—lit above and around us with colorful advertisements moving on digital screens. It felt like we were flying through a cocoon of lights.

  “I’m twenty,” Justin said.

  “What?” I shouted over the noise of traffic. I winced when a train blew past us, only inches from the side of the car. The tunnel opened up to expose a valley below, lit up with a thousand city lights. We turned a corner and sped down the hill, alongside the international train tracks.

  “You asked me how old I was,” he repeated. “I’m twenty.”

  I smiled and wondered what my dad would do if he knew I was in a car with a twenty-year-old DS dropout.

  A train slowed down next to us with yellow lights illuminating the words British Columbia on its side. I threw the chip out the window and its magnetic surface stuck to the side.

  We turned off the train route and headed back onto the residential streets. As we were getting close to my house, I stared out the window, wondering what to say to Justin. How do you thank someone for giving you a ride home and apologize for the inconvenient, near-death car chase? I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye but he just focused on the road, his jaw tight and his face thoughtful. We turned onto my street and I asked him to pull over.

  “This is fine,” I said.

  “Which house is yours?”

  “It’s right up the street.” I pointed to my house in the distance, which was hard to miss since it took up most of the block. “I’ll get out here.”

  Justin pulled to the side of the road and when the car was still, he turned and stared at me. Everything was suddenly quiet and the space inside the car was too small. I felt trapped, like too much energy was circulating between us. My heart was still hammering against my ribs. Justin dropped his hands from the steering wheel. He looked surprisingly calm considering the last twenty minutes.

  “Where did you learn to drive like that?” I asked.

  “Where did you learn how to trace a bug that fast?” he asked me.

  I shrugged. I had forgotten all about that. “It’s easy.”

  “Easy?” He waited for me to explain. I raised my hands up in the air like it was no big deal.

  “Those tags run on the electromagnetic spectrum—they use radio frequencies. So I found a program that can detect low or medium frequencies and I scanned a five-foot area. It picked up the signal.”

  His eyebrows flattened with disbelief. “And that’s everyday knowledge to you?”

  I smiled as his question sunk in. “Wow,” I said. I slapped my hand over my forehead and leaned back in the seat. “I’m such a dork.”

  He didn’t say anything. He didn’t smile. His dark eyes stayed on mine, wide and surprised and it finally hit me what he was thinking. What kind of normal person is bugged and followed for going to a study group? What kind of teenage girl knows how to detect a tracker? He must think I’m either clinically insane or an escaped convict. I pulled my bag off the floor and tried to pretend like this wasn’t the most humiliating moment of my life.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled.

  “What are you sorry for?” he asked.

  I hung my head. “Look, my life, like you might have noticed, is a little dysfunctional. So I won’t feel bad if I don’t hear from you again,” I said, and avoided his eyes as I opened the car door. “Thanks for the ride.” I slammed the door shut before he could respond. A couple seconds later I heard his car accelerate past me, but I refused to look up. I walked over the turf grass toward the front door and longed to hide inside the safe walls of my digital world where I could always appear perfect.

  When I walked in the door, Baley bounded into the foyer to meet me. I squatted down and she threw her paws on my shoulders and slobbered my neck with kisses. At least someone loved me unconditionally. I heard my dad yell my name from down the hall and my face fell. His voice echoed against the high white walls and along the cold laminate floor. I followed his voice to his office, with Baley trailing behind me. He looked up from his computer when I walked in and motioned for me to sit down. I slumped into the brown leather chair across from his desk and awaited my interrogation. I glanced around the room; every inch of wall space was cluttered with certificates, plaques, and awards. Something came in the mail weekly to commemorate my dad on his honorable academic achievements and efforts to improve the education system. He moved his flipscreen aside and looked at me with a heavy stare. The glare of distrust in his eyes made my heart shrink in my chest.

  “How was the study group?” he asked.

  I babbled an automated reply he would accept. The tutor was great . . . he answered all my questions . . . I finished the assignment. The only thing that made my dad react is when I told him I was surprised by the attendance.

  “What do you mean by that?” he asked.

  “I was surprised with the turnout. There were—”

  “Six other students there,” he finished for me. “Seven people including Mike Fisher, the teacher. He told me you were sitting with a boy you seemed to know pretty well.”

  I stared back at him and my eyes narrowed. Of course he could check the attendance online. Of course he knew every tutor in the city, in the country for that matter. But that isn’t what hurt the most.

  “You didn’t trust me.”

  My dad looked down at his hands. He interlocked his long, pale fingers.

  “Madeline, I’m trying.”

  I shook my head with defiance. “You’re trying? Is that what you call using Mike to plant a bug on me? Was he the same guy following us, or did you hire the police to do that?
”

  A mocking smile filled his face. “I see you caught on to that. And I’m happy you changed your mind about going to Canada.” His eyes softened and he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, but someone needs to look out for you.”

  I had to clench my teeth to keep from arguing. I pressed my fingers into the armrests until they made indentions in the leather.

  “Your mother is the one that convinced me to let you go tonight. So you can thank her. I’m more concerned about this boy you met, Justin Solvi? How do you know him?”

  I imagined he had already searched every file available on Justin’s background.

  “I met him at an online tutor session. It’s no big deal.”

  His eyes were unconvinced and his silence meant he wanted a further explanation.

  “I took a lot of writing courses this year and you know it’s not my best subject. So, Justin recommended I go to a study group downtown. That’s it.”

  As my father studied my appearance, I was grateful for the first time tonight that I looked so drab. I obviously didn’t go out of my way to impress anyone. And I was telling the truth. Even if my dad read every online chat between us, which he probably had, Justin and I had only been studying acquaintances. I didn’t have to admit he was also the most beautiful person I’d ever been in contact with.

  My dad leaned forward in his chair and watched me carefully.

  “I don’t think you should see him again,” he said, in a tone that meant this wasn’t open for debate. “He isn’t a good influence.”

  I glared back at him. “It was just a study session,” I said. “And believe me, I doubt I’ll ever hear from him again.” My dad’s shoulders finally settled and he leaned back in his chair.

  “As far as I can see you’re telling the truth.”

  My eyes pleaded with him. “Dad, we can’t keep doing this. You need to forgive me.”

  He shook his head and stared down at his hands.

  “It’s going to take time,” he said, and his eyes met mine. “You broke the law, Maddie. You stole from me and sold my computer files to a group of digital school protesters,” he said, as if he had to remind me why I was on probation.