I watched Justin high on the stage, towering over everyone in the crowd. Thousands of people were crammed around me, but they all seemed to fade away. Even Justin’s voice became a murmur. The past year rushed back to me in fragmented memories. Old conversations resurfaced like photographs. They were as clear as if Justin were whispering them now.
You can trust me. I’ll always be honest with you. But it’s really hard for me to be there for people. It’s just the way my life works. The sooner you understand that about me, the better.
I felt myself caught in a still point. Thoughts spun like a funnel cloud, and I found myself in the middle of it all. And then, just as quickly as the chaotic memories spun, they blew away. My head was clear.
I looked up at Justin, and even though we were standing in the same place, we were in completely different worlds. People don’t change. We only convince ourselves they change. We deny what we can’t accept. We are only as smart as we are willing to see the truth.
“So, why drop out of digital school?” Justin’s voice echoed through the park and snapped my attention back. “It will help our society get unplugged. We can start by spending ten minutes longer, every day, turning off our screens. Get to know your friends, your kids, your neighbors, your parents. Or just turn everything off and breathe. The digital world will always be there. These summer days, these hot summer nights, quality time we can spend with people we love—these are the moments we shouldn’t let pass us by. These are the moments we can never get back.”
“So try it,” he said. “And you won’t be alone. I’m out here waiting to meet you.” He smiled his daring, contagious smile, and the crowd cheered.
I looked up at the scroll over the stage. People were starting to opt out of digital school by the hundreds.
“I think just about every female in DS dropped out,” Clare whispered to me. I smiled. It was definitely motivation.
Chapter Twenty-four
The protest quieted down that night. People’s egos were still bruised. I crawled into Justin’s tent to find him lying down, but with his eyes open. His hands rested over his chest, and his fingers were laced together.
He was breathing long, deep breaths. I lay down next to him and looked up at the perfect seams of the nylon roof joining in the center. I was jealous that something could be so symmetrical.
I hated the questions I was thinking. Is this worth it? Is anything worth it? Is the fight worth it? Are the consequences worth it? When it comes down to decisions, when is it worth it?
“What are you thinking?” I asked him.
Justin blinked. “I’m just trying to stay calm.” He swallowed and took another deep breath. I looked at his body, stretched out and relaxed.
“You’re not calm?”
“It’s a fight sometimes,” he said. “I really wanted to throw something today. I wanted to charge those cops.”
I rolled over and looked at him. “Why didn’t you?”
“There’s no point. It’s what they want. They want a reason to arrest all of us.”
“So your strategy is . . . ?”
“Don’t rise to the bait,” he said. “Sometimes the strongest impression you can make is not to strike back. You beat them in their own game.”
“It’s okay to be angry, you know. Anger can be righteous.”
He smiled. “Righteous?”
“Sometimes anger can be a wake-up call. It can get you moving.”
“I don’t want it to turn that way. It won’t do any good here, not with all these people.”
“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” I asked.
“A little,” he admitted. “I’ve accepted what the outcome will be. I’m just worried how all the people will react when we lose the vote.”
“Have you ever considered that we still have a chance?”
“No,” he said, and looked at me. “This is all a game, Maddie. We’re building a team. That’s what we’re doing here. You can’t do anything without support. We’re showing up tomorrow to recruit a bigger team; that’s how you eventually win the game.”
I was quiet for a few seconds.
“I guess I still never considered losing an option.”
Justin smiled. “It would take a miracle. And I don’t believe in miracles.”
That surprised me. I looked into his clear brown eyes. “Really?” I asked.
“Asking for a miracle is sitting around wanting something to happen. It isn’t acting on it.”
I laughed at the ceiling. I was so exhausted I could barely hold my eyes open. “You don’t think we’ve worked hard enough?”
Justin opened his hands. “I think we’re playing chess. And we’re still waiting for that one move that’s going to change the playing field. It hasn’t happened yet. It’s not impossible, but the odds definitely aren’t looking good.”
“Justin,” a voice interrupted. We looked up, and a boy was leaning in the tent doorway.
“Yeah, Kurt?”
“The police are passing out fines to everyone. For camping on government property.”
“Ignore them,” he said. “They’re just trying to scare us away. We’re not on government property.”
“The fines are five thousand dollars. People are freaking out.”
Justin got to his feet. “Let’s collect all the fines. I’ll deal with them.” He followed Kurt out of the tent.
I waited for Justin, dozing off and on, but I could hear talking and laughter and music outside. I climbed out of the tent. The air smelled like wood campfires, and it reminded me of Eden. There was a scattering of fires burning in old grill pots around the park. The night air was cold, and I wrapped my hands around my shoulders, warming them up. I stopped close to one fire and listened to two guys playing guitars. I stood and listened to the music for a couple of minutes, and my head nodded to the beat.
I needed to find my rhythm. My pacing felt all out of whack. We’re all looking for a rhythm, a movement that isn’t forced, that feels right. I wanted to be more surefooted. I was still searching for the perfect pace.
I found Clare and Gabe sitting next to one of the fires. I sat down next to Clare and hugged my knees to my chest. I recognized a laugh, and my stomach jerked like someone had jabbed my side. I looked across the fire and noticed Jax. He regarded me with a small smile, and his eyes reflected the flickering firelight. I looked away before anything lingered.
I concentrated on the crackling conversation of the fire. I missed sounds of the outside world. Sounds are three-dimensional, just like images. They come at you from every direction.
I watched a girl next to Jax laugh. She leaned her head back and arched her neck and her shoulders shook. They sat on a square blanket together, and there was something intimate about it. I wondered if Jax would kiss her later. I wondered if he really did hold his breath when he kissed. I wanted to stick my head in a hole for wondering.
I sighed and stared at the flames growing and shrinking and playing leapfrog over the wood. They peeked around logs, they jumped, they danced.
“You okay?” Clare asked me.
“I don’t know,” I said. “We’re so close, and part of me doesn’t even care anymore. I just want it to be over,” I confessed.
“I know what it is,” she said. “You’re not fighting with your heart anymore, Maddie.”
I stared deeper into the flames. She was right.
“My brother always told me the only way you’re satisfied in life is if you’re doing something with your heart. If your heart isn’t in it, you’re not on the right path. I believe that.”
“So what do I do?” I asked. “I’ve never given up on anything.”
“You find a different path,” she said. “That’s not giving up.”
I nodded because what she was saying summed up so many knots in my mind, why they were there, why I couldn’t work them out.
She stood up and I didn’t realize anyone was next to me until an elbow poked my knee. I looked over and saw Jax had sat down. He
threw a blanket at my feet. I was surprised how relieved I was to see him, how I instantly felt lighter.
“Thanks,” I said, and wrapped the blanket around my shoulders. Even sitting so close to the fire, I felt the cold wind off the river chill my back and neck. I couldn’t help glancing across the fire, where the brunette with the annoyingly loud laugh had been sitting next to Jax. She was gone.
“Where’s Scorpio?” Jax asked, resting his arms on his bent knees.
I kept my eyes on the orange glow of the flames. They mesmerized me. The coals were the most gorgeous part, burning bright neon red. I wondered if part of their beauty came from knowing you couldn’t touch them.
“He’s busy trying to save the world,” I informed Jax. “I don’t know what else to do.” I looked over at Jax and watched his eyes reflect the orange flickering light of the fire. “I’ve tried everything. I came back home to recruit everyone I could. I even have my dad on our side, and it hasn’t made a dent.”
“You don’t know that,” he said.
“Have you looked at the votes the students are casting?” I asked. Justin’s speech had recruited twenty thousand supporters, which was nothing compared with the millions of people still against us. “Your dad was right,” I said. “People are addicted. And they don’t want to admit they have a problem. No one cares.”
Jax stared at the fire. “Stop thinking about the vote,” he said.
“I can’t,” I said.
“Well, stop worrying tonight,” he said. “There’s nothing you can do right at this second.”
“That’s the problem,” I said.
Jax tapped his hands on his knees. “Let me handle it. I’ll think of something.”
I smiled because he looked sincere, but I knew he was just trying to take some of the weight off my mind.
“I’m serious,” he said. “Have I ever let you down?”
“No,” I admitted.
“I’ll figure something out,” he said. His eyes met mine, and I could see there was an idea taking root behind them. “But what if I need you to help me out?”
I nodded. “Sure.”
“Promise you won’t get mad?” he asked.
I laughed. “Why would I be mad at you for helping?”
“Just promise me,” he said.
“I don’t think you can make me mad,” I told him honestly. His smile faded and he looked back at the fire.
“Okay, no more DS downer talk tonight.”
“Thanks,” I said.
“I’m the president of the fun committee,” he announced.
I looked over at him. “The fun committee? When did that start?”
“About four seconds ago,” he said. He handed me a metal roasting fork and set a bag of marshmallows in front of me. I took the fork and examined it like I was looking at a medical instrument for the first time.
“Haven’t you ever roasted one of these?” he asked.
“Of course I have,” I lied.
I picked a marshmallow out of the bag and stabbed it with the end of the fork. I held it inside the largest flame, and in an instant the marshmallow caught fire. I yanked it back and tried to blow out the flame, and I was left with a giant piece of black, flaky ash. I examined it with a frown. The sight was far from appetizing. I pulled off the ash shell to where it was raw underneath.
I looked at Jax, and he leaned his head to the side, watching me.
I pulled the salvaged remains off with my fingers and ate the sticky sweetness.
I tried a second marshmallow. Instead of placing it directly inside the flames, this time I held it slightly outside the fire. But the flames danced and licked the sides and the marshmallow erupted in a blaze. I pulled it back and blew out the orange flame devouring my snack.
Jax handed me another one and I tried again.
“Put it next to the coals,” he pointed out. “The flame just devours it. You’ll burn it every time.”
I tried holding it over the coals and turning it like Jax was doing, but it took forever. I wanted it now. I inched the marshmallow closer to the flames, and it lit on fire again.
“Crapsticks,” I said, and Jax grabbed the fork out of my hands.
“You’re fired,” he said.
“I can’t keep it away from the flames,” I complained.
“No kidding. That’s your problem.”
I sat back on my hands and motioned for him to explain.
“You need to learn patience. Try it.” He handed me a s’more he had made, and I took a bite. The marshmallow was a layer of warm sugary fluff. The melted milk chocolate oozed around the sides, and the graham cracker held it together with a crunchy crust.
“Wow,” I moaned. “That is amazing. Teach me.” I licked each of my fingers.
“First call me master,” he said.
“You wish,” I said.
He smiled. “The secret is, stay away from the flames.” He looked at me to make sure I was registering this. “I get that fire’s exciting. But it’s too intense. All it does is burn things up, turn them to ashes, and leave the middle raw.”
I narrowed my eyes as he pointed back to the pit, to the red coals sleeping beneath the flames.
“The trick is to go underneath,” he said. “To the coals. You won’t get charred.” He fixed his eyes on mine. “It might take a couple of burns to realize the coals are where you want to be. And you know what else?” He leaned a couple of inches closer to me. “The coals are even hotter than the flames,” he said.
“Thanks for the advice,” I told him.
“Anytime,” he said.
I slowly rotated my marshmallow like it was on a rotisserie. I was careful to keep it away from the consuming flames. The coals tanned it on all sides until it was golden brown. It practically dripped off the fork when I slid it onto the graham cracker. I took a bite and let out a moan.
“Good?” he asked.
“Perfect,” I said, admiring my dessert. “You were right. About the marshmallow,” I clarified.
I woke up to the cold morning air brushing the tip of my nose. Dawn tinted the sky a light pinkish gray. There was a murmur of distant voices, and I leaned my head up. I blinked a few times, forgetting where I was for a second. Clare and Gabe were curled up together in sleeping bags on the ground. I could smell the smoky drifts of campfires. I shivered and pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders and heard someone stir next to me. I looked over and saw Jax passed out a few inches away. We were sharing a blanket.
He had a hood wrapped around his head and was facing me, his body curled in tight to stay warm. His eyes were hidden under his hood—I could just make out the tips of his lashes—but I knew from his long, slow breaths that he was asleep.
I rolled over and shut my eyes. I wasn’t sure what bothered me more, my falling asleep next to Jax two nights in a row or Justin’s not coming to look for me two nights in a row.
I could feel Jax’s body heat close to me under the blanket, as if he were a tiny human furnace. He shifted and stretched out and his arm rested against the middle of my back. I froze from the contact. I didn’t move away. I liked the constant heat.
Chapter Twenty-five
Considering the claim that the digital school vote would be unanimous, voters were taking their time making decisions. By ten the next morning, only five states had voted.
The digital screens along the courthouse listed the voting returns like a scoreboard. So far four states had voted in favor of keeping digital school a federal law and one state had voted against it.
Protests were rising around the country, in parking lots and parks and warehouses and anywhere people could gather. Rioters who couldn’t get out to Portland were still making a statement, even if it meant sticking a sign out in their yards.
Clare and I walked around the food tents, but I was too anxious to eat. I noticed Jax standing with a group of guys. They were talking to a reporter, a young woman who was smiling and seeming to enjoy all the attention. She adjusted a camera bad
ge clipped to her blazer that was filming the interview.
Jax waved when he noticed me, and I walked over as one of his friends was finishing an interview question.
“I thought you were going to hang back,” I told him.
“I promised to help you out,” he reminded me.
“Okay, your turn,” the reporter said to Jax, and he turned to face her. “What is so great about your real world?”
“Getting to know the people,” Jax said.
“You can get to know people online,” the reporter argued.
“It’s not the same,” Jax said.
“How is it any different?” she asked. “What can you do in your real world that you can’t do online?”
His eyes passed over his friends and settled on mine.
“For starters, this,” Jax said, and he yanked my hand and pulled me close to him.
Before I could react, he lifted my head in his hands, leaned down, and pressed his mouth against mine, hard, in case I tried to pull away. His warm lips covered mine, and something like thunder echoed around us. He kissed me like he was scooping my lips up with his, and I stopped breathing. My fingers relaxed and then they clung to his waist and instead of pushing him away, I squeezed his shirt in my hands. His mouth fit perfectly against mine; his lips absorbed every piece of me, like a million little hands holding on to me, until I let myself kiss him back. He was putting more than just his lips into the kiss; he used his entire body. He wrapped his hands tighter around me, digging his fingers into my shoulders and pulling me so close our chests compressed. He opened his mouth, and for just a moment I let it happen. I opened my mouth and breathed him in. I could smell wind and campfire in his skin. I kissed him back. I sucked his hot breath and felt his tongue trace against mine before I dug my hands between our chests and pushed him away.
When he let me go, the sound of cheering crashed around us. I was so lightheaded I had to lean on Jax to get my breath back. People screamed so wildly I almost thought we had won the vote, but they were screaming at us, jumping around like we were inside a mosh pit. The reporter was saying something, but I couldn’t hear her over the crowd.
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