Awaken

by Katie Kacvinsky

  “Do you live with your parents?” I asked. Justin shook his head and I mentally sorted out a heap of questions I had building. I sat back in the train seat and studied him like he was something abstract I was trying to critique, like if I studied him long enough I’d see something most people overlooked.

  “Do you have roommates?” I asked.

  “No,” he answered, a little too quickly. He stood up as the train slowed to our stop and I felt a small smile creep onto my face. He could fire personal questions at me, but when they were turned back on him, he closed up. We jumped down from the steps but before we went inside the coffee shop, he turned to look at me.

  “Madeline, I want you to meet a few of my friends before I leave town.”

  The way he said it hinted it wouldn’t be a short trip.

  “Are you leaving for work?” I asked.

  He took a deep breath and hesitated. “You could say that.”

  “Where are you going?” I pressed.

  He stopped outside the coffee shop entrance and I almost ran into him since my mind was still contemplating what he wasn’t saying. A chime jingled when the front door opened and an older couple walked down the stairs with coffee cups in their hands. Justin moved over to let them pass and had to grab me as well, since my feet were stuck to the ground as I analyzed the flicker of reluctance I saw in his eyes.

  “Can we talk about this later?” he asked.

  “Why can’t you answer a simple question?”

  He frowned at my stubbornness. “It isn’t simple.”

  “It isn’t simple to tell me where you’re going? And I know you don’t work for an electric company. That’s almost funny.”

  His eyes softened a little. He looked amused by my persistence, as if he wasn’t used to being questioned by people. “I don’t exactly live here,” he finally said.

  I waited a few seconds for him to continue but I could see I’d have to pull the words out of him.

  “Where do you live?”

  “Everywhere,” he said, and looked away. “And nowhere.”

  Two girls passed us and climbed the stairs to the entrance. I glanced over at them just as one girl gave Justin a double take, but he didn’t notice the girls. When I looked back at him, his eyes were studying me.

  “You know, you’re not the only one with a dysfunctional life,” he said. There was a hint of a smile on his face but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  I looked inside the coffee shop window. “Who are you introducing me to?” I asked.

  He listed off a handful of names. Jake who he stayed with when he was in town, Riley, his cousin Pat, his friends Scott and Molly.

  “Clare might be here. She’s really cool. I think you’ll like her.”

  I felt a tinge of jealousy spring up at the added mention of Clare being really cool and wanted to kick myself the moment I felt it. I followed him inside a café crammed full of people. A line curved around the front counter, and groups of people sat at high tables, on leather couches, and on stools around the coffee bar. Some people stood and mingled in groups. It was overwhelming to see and feel the presence of so many people packed together. I instinctively moved closer to Justin’s side. He grabbed my arm and pulled me through a group of teenagers standing in a circle. I rigidly stepped around them, trying not to touch people, which was almost impossible.

  “Is it always this busy?” I asked him, shouting over the noise. He nodded.

  “It’s the only coffee shop in town,” he said. While we passed people I noticed how everyone seemed to recognize Justin. He stopped several times to shake hands and meet a high-five sailing through the air. Someone shouted to him over the crowd and I turned and recognized the barista, who gave him a swooping wave. She was the same girl from my tutor session that had kindly offered him a seat. Justin was right, the real world was pretty small. I watched him smile easily at her and I wished he’d acknowledge me like that. He usually looked at me like I was nuts or frustrating, or both.

  Background music filtered through the air from ceiling speakers, but you could barely hear it over the buzz of conversation. The noise, the people, the body heat, made my heart speed up. I was tempted to grab Justin’s hand, afraid if I lost him I’d get swallowed in the crowd.

  I stared at the landscape of people. “I can see why you like it here,” I told him. He leaned down so he could hear me and his hair fell over his forehead, which I noticed, and his lips came dangerously close to my touch radar, which I really noticed.

  Almost everyone we passed was talking and laughing, but a few people studied or stared into flipscreens. Some people wore MindReaders.

  I nudged Justin’s arm. “What do you think of those?” I asked, and nodded at someone wearing a MindReader. He looked over and shrugged.

  “Is it really necessary to wear a headband that translates your thoughts onto a screen?” he asked.

  “It’s convenient.”

  “Yeah, because having to use your voice to communicate is such a nuisance.”

  He scanned the room looking for his friends and was sidetracked when he ran into two guys sitting at a table we passed. One was tall and skinny and looked about Justin’s age. He had a short crew cut and dark-rimmed glasses. The other man was older; he looked about my father’s age and had a thick, dark goatee peppered with gray.

  “Justin, good to see you,” the younger guy said. He glanced up at me with interest. Justin introduced me to Spencer and his dad, Ray.

  “You look familiar,” Spencer said. “Have I seen you before?”

  “I doubt it,” I said.

  He leaned forward. “Wait, I’ve seen you on the news.” I shrugged. My mom, dad, and I had been photographed for the news at benefits and public appearances, but no one had ever recognized me before.

  Justin nodded. “She’s Madeline Freeman,” he said. I watched the smiles fade on both of the men’s faces. Spencer regarded me coolly and I felt my defenses kick in.

  “Well, the heiress of digital school herself,” he said flatly.

  I held his eyes. “I don’t really go by that title,” I pointed out.

  Ray narrowed his eyes at Justin. “This is an interesting move,” he said. Silence stretched out as Ray and Justin studied each other. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he added.

  Justin surprised me when he lifted his hand and curled his fingers protectively over my shoulder. He told Spencer and Ray he’d be in touch and then dropped his hand to my sleeve and pulled me through the crowd. The slight pressure of his fingers was making my skin burn. It baffled me that the smallest touch from him could alter how fast or slow the blood traveled in my veins and the speed my lungs expanded and contracted.

  “Sorry about that,” he ducked down to say to me. “They’re a little anti–digital school.”

  I felt my stomach ball up with nerves. What was I doing here? I was standing in the middle of a group of DS protesters, me, the daughter of the enemy. Were all his friends going to treat me like I was an infection?

  His eyes met mine and he could see the doubt behind them. “Don’t worry, my friends are cool. They want to meet you,” he assured me.

  Another group of people stopped Justin to talk to him and I stared at a wall displaying shelves of bright, colorful coffee mugs on sale. They were all different sizes and mismatched and original. I stared at them and thought about our kitchen at home where everything matched and had its designated place and all our mugs were white and sterile and plain. I heard once that the things you own define you and I didn’t want to be seen that way. I reached my hand out to touch one of the shiny, smooth cups. I wanted to own something that didn’t fit in. I wanted something in my life that looked misplaced. It was such a strange feeling, because I’d never craved anything like that before.

  I turned to find Justin watching me stand there, transfixed by a display of coffee mugs.

  “You okay?” he asked with the trace of a grin.

  I dropped my hand from the shiny red mug. “Yeah,” I
said. “Just thinking.”

  I followed him into a side room and he nodded to a group of people sitting in the corner. Occupying two tables and a couch were his friends, all eyeing me with interest. I walked toward them and felt like there was a spotlight trailing above my head the entire way.

  Justin began the introductions. Jake and Riley sat at one table, Clare and Pat at another, and they all offered me laid-back grins. They dressed as casually as me, Jake in a stocking hat and Riley in a baseball cap and T-shirt. Clare had on a red pea coat and a turquoise flipscreen bag rested on the ground by her feet. She sipped a cup of coffee and her bright blue eyes welcomed me.

  I met Scott and Molly, who sat on the plush brown couch in the corner, their fingers interlocked in one another’s. Scott nodded at me. He wore glasses with yellow-tinted lenses, one of the latest trends. His hair was black and so thick it looked like fur. Molly eyed me skeptically and offered a grin that didn’t reach her eyes.

  Justin headed back to the line to get our coffees and Clare pulled up a chair so I could sit next to her. She smiled as I sat down.

  “It’s so great to meet you,” she said.

  I blinked back at her without knowing how to respond. I’d never been introduced to this many people all at once and they all watched me as if I was on display.

  “Really?” is all I could manage.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Justin’s always building our social circle.”

  Pat smirked next to her and I glanced over at him. I could see a resemblance to Justin. Pat had the same dimples and mouth as Justin. He also looked tall, his head rising well above ours even though we were sitting down. His eyes were lighter than Justin’s, a bright hazel.

  Clare asked me what classes I was taking and I was impressed how easy it was for her to start a conversation with a stranger. We discussed digital school while Jake, Riley, and Pat chimed in to make sarcastic comments, mostly directed at Clare. I’d never seen a group of people be at such ease around each other and I felt a pang of jealousy. Not a single one of them was on their phone or staring into a flipscreen. They were listening. Their eyes were absorbing everything. I was starting to understand what Justin meant about being social. The difference between his world and mine was intimacy. Here was a group of people entertained by just being in the presence of each other, not needing their interactions to be orchestrated by an electronic device. This was genuine, like art being created before my eyes. I was seduced and I hadn’t even noticed when Justin set my coffee down.

  I listened while Pat teased Clare about wanting to get a permanent tattoo. Their easy banter entertained me more than any movie I’d ever watched because this was real, unscripted life happening before my eyes.

  “Clare, that fad passed, what, forty years ago?” Pat said.

  “That’s what people did before semi-tatts came around,” Riley added.

  “I want a permanent one,” she insisted.

  “That’s stupid,” Pat argued. “Your skin will stretch and it will look like graffiti in ten years.”

  “I don’t think my skin will stretch that much in ten years, Pat. I’m over my growth spurt.”

  Pat raised his eyebrows. “What growth spurt?”

  Clare rolled her eyes and looked back at me.

  “Oh, the joy of hanging out with good friends.”

  I felt like I had to defend Clare, as if we were already friends.

  “I can see why she wants a permanent one,” I said, speaking to all three of them for the first time. Everyone stopped talking and turned to stare at me. Even Scott and Molly. I felt like I was on center stage again. I sensed the gaze of one pair of eyes in particular. Justin was standing against the wall, close to Scott’s side. Why did everything I say seem somehow important to these people? I looked between Pat and Clare and shrugged.

  “Permanent tattoos are more meaningful. It’s more of a commitment,” I said.

  “I don’t see it,” Riley said.

  “The idea that one thing that will define you, forever, is pretty amazing,” I said. “It makes you choose it more carefully.”

  Pat grinned at me. “Okay, where is your tattoo?”

  I instinctively started biting my nails while everyone continued to stare at me.

  “What makes you think I have one?” I asked.

  “Please tell me it’s not on your lower back,” Pat added.

  “Oh, who doesn’t love the tramp stamp?” Jake said.

  “Or a butterfly on your foot,” Riley chimed in. “That’s an original one.” I glanced around and felt anger climb up my spine since they were ganging up on me, but I realized by their smiles they were teasing. I pulled back the sleeve of my jacket. Riley, Jake, Pat, and Clare leaned in to study the bird on my wrist.

  They all agreed it was a good choice, and Pat surprised me. He reached out and traced his index finger along the outline of the wings. No one had ever touched my tattoo but me. His touch was warm and I could feel my skin heating up underneath it. He smiled at me and took his hand away.

  “Cool” is all he said.

  Clare leaned in and told me we should hang out sometime.

  “I study here all the time,” she said, “if you ever want to meet up.”

  “Yeah,” I said, and rubbed my thumb against the rim of the coffee cup. “I don’t get out much” is all I said. I didn’t know where to begin, how to explain I’ve been grounded for most of my adolescence.

  “Nobody does these days,” she said. “That’s what needs to change,” she told me. I looked at her and something sneaky glowed behind her eyes. She knew something I didn’t—something that fit into why I was here today and why Justin was pursuing me.

  “What are you doing for Memorial Day?” she asked as we exchanged phone numbers. I sighed, reminded of the event that would take place in two weeks. Every Memorial Day a formal fundraiser, the National Education Benefit, was held downtown. My father was always the guest of honor, as it was a charity event hosted by Digital School, Inc. My parents dragged me to it each spring and I was reminded, every year, of my father’s obsessive cult following and how impossible the idea to change his rigid education system would be. During the event there’s a five-course dinner followed by a virtual shopping spree and a digital dance contest. The state’s wealthiest and most notable highbrow elites are invited (or those willing to pay $1,000 a plate to get on the guest list).

  “I have to go to the National Education Benefit,” I said.

  Clare’s eyes narrowed for a moment. “Oh, I’ve heard about that.” She offered a sympathetic frown. “At least it’s for charity,” she said.

  Riley coughed at this and I glanced at him, my intuition flickering. His eyes looked mocking for the briefest moment.

  “Maybe you can meet us out afterwards?” she asked.

  I nodded but knew it would never happen. The benefit lasted all night and my parents would be busy trying to set me up with Paul Thompson, the son of their best friends. We dined together every year at the fundraiser and our parents encouraged our relationship to blossom every year. I studied Clare, and something in her playful smile gave me hope this year might be different.

  I glanced quickly over at Justin and he was leaning down, talking to Scott. Scott nodded and his eyes immediately went to mine. I looked away. My gut told me there was more going on than a casual introduction to his friends. It felt closer to an initiation than a coffee date.

  Chapter Five

  Justin and I left the coffee shop and climbed onto the north-bound train. We both took a seat next to the window. He stretched out his long legs across the aisle.

  “So, what do you do when you’re not in school?” he asked. I blinked back at him.

  “You mean for fun?” He nodded and I started listing the social sites I hang out on—TeenZone, Mentropolis, BookTalk, and MovieMainstream.

  He interrupted me.

  “No, I mean, what do you do when you’re not online?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him and felt like he was at
tacking me. But his eyes weren’t judgmental. He just looked curious.

  “There aren’t a whole lot of options,” I pointed out. He nodded and waited for me to continue. I told him I worked out.

  “On your running machine?” he asked. “That doesn’t count, it’s still a screen.”

  “I play soccer,” I stated.

  He nodded. “Okay, I’ll give you that.”

  I racked my brain to try and think of anything else. I told him I drew on my ceiling canvas.

  “Still doesn’t count. It’s plugged in, right?”

  He was grinning and for once I was too annoyed to let his smile tie my stomach into knots. I glared back at him.

  “Sorry,” he said. “It’s just my favorite question to ask people. Because it proves a point. Most people, no matter what they do, are always plugged in. That’s the problem.”

  “What do you do for fun?” I asked. “Interrogate innocent people?”

  He ran his hands through his hair to try and calm it down but it just made it stick up even more, like his hair had the same independent energy he did.

  “You’re looking at it,” he said.

  I glanced around the compartment. “You ride trains around?”

  He nodded and told me he doesn’t have time these days, but when he was younger, he spent entire days taking trains wherever they went.

  “Haven’t you ever jumped on a train for the fun of it?” he asked.

  “No,” I answered. He stared at me like I was crazy and I returned the look. “You know, you’re the anomaly right now. I’m the normal digitalized citizen.”

  His eyes narrowed like he didn’t believe me. Like he could see inside of me. “What’s the fun in always knowing where things will take you?”

  I frowned at his question. I always knew where my life was headed. Life has a way of mapping itself out for you and that’s what you follow.