Awaken

by Katie Kacvinsky

  “I think so?” I said.

  “You think so?” he yelled over the wild roar of the engine.

  “Yeah, but . . .” My eyes pleaded with him. “You said you thought I would like this!” I reminded him.

  He motioned to my arm with his eyes.

  “What’s on your wrist?”

  I looked down. “A bird,” I said, stating the obvious.

  “That’s why I think you’ll like it, if it works. Hold on.” Before I could argue, Justin slammed his foot on the accelerator and we flew forward down the beach. I could barely inhale as my breath was ripped away by the speed of the car. I opened my mouth to shout but my voice was covered by the sound of the engine.

  In the next second, there was a loud crack, like a piece of the car broke off. I screamed and realized there was something flapping in the air. A plastic sheet unfolded like an accordion on each side of the car. The fabric pulled smooth and snapped tightly in place to form wide wings. I held on to my seat belt and felt the car slowly angle upward and lift off the ground. I squeezed my eyes closed. It couldn’t actually fly, I told myself. Maybe we’ll just hover off the ground a little bit. Justin’s laugh made me open my eyes in time to watch the ground beneath us pull away. The hissing engine quieted down as we rose over the ocean. My mouth fell open in amazement. There were the calm waves, a hundred feet below us. I looked around and took in the bird’s-eye view of the coastline, the cliffs along the shore, and the brown and red mountains in the distance. We could see a giant white-peaked mountain, at least a hundred miles away, that I never would have seen from the ground.

  “It isn’t made to fly very long,” he shouted over the wind tossing our hair. “It can lift us up, but then we coast the rest of the way down.”

  I barely noticed what he said, too mesmerized by the view. We glided with the wind and Justin told me the white-peaked mountain in the distance was Mount Shasta and he pointed out the skyline of San Francisco, faintly noticeable on the horizon. The ocean below us looked as smooth as blue stained glass. I could see ships out in the distance and sea caves and sand dunes along the shore. The coastline curled and twisted with the water’s edge, like a seductive dance.

  We were both so distracted with the scenery, we forgot to notice we were cruising closer and closer to the ground.

  I stared down at the water and started to panic. The ocean was coming faster and we were nearly a mile from the shore.

  “Don’t worry, we won’t crash and burn,” he said.

  “Yeah,” I said and swallowed. “More like crash and sink?”

  I glanced at Justin but he looked more thoughtful than worried. We were coasting low now, the dark water creeping close.

  “Let’s see what this does,” he said, and pressed a lever below his seat. We both leaned forward when another hissing sound erupted underneath us.

  “What’s happening?” I asked. Suddenly, the two wings of the car unclipped from the sides. I met Justin’s eyes for a terrifying second.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t have done that,” he mumbled quickly. I moved to try to catch the wing, as if I could physically hold it to the car. The wings slipped off of both sides and we plunged ten feet into the ocean, sending up a wave that drenched us.

  “We’re dying, we’re dying,” I yelled into my hands. I waited to sink inside the freezing water, but nothing happened. Justin nudged my arm and pointed to the sides of the car. The rubber lining had filled up with air and expanded like a raft. We were floating in a giant inner tube.

  We looked at each other, stunned, soaking wet, while the water rocked us slowly back and forth.

  “That was awesome,” Justin said. He pulled his fingers through his hair to ring the water out. “Want to try it again?”

  I shook my head and pressed my hand against my chest to try to lower my heart rate. He smiled and we both turned to see the shoreline, a long ways away from us.

  “Here’s the ultimate test,” he said. “Either we paddle with our hands to get back, or this engine will still work.”

  He turned the car on and the engine revved into life.

  “My old man still has it,” he said. The car gained speed as we accelerated toward the shore.

  “Wait,” I said, and grabbed Justin’s arm. He took his foot off the pedal and turned to look at me, his eyes alarmed.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Can we just sit here for a while? I mean, it’s not every day you get to float out on the ocean like this.”

  He nodded in agreement. He turned off the engine and the world became quiet. We each sat back in our seats and let the craft float with the motion of the tide. I laid my head back and opened my eyes to drink in the blue cloudless sky. Justin leaned his head back as well and stretched his arms out, crossing them behind his head. I glanced over to see his eyes were closed. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

  Neither of us spoke the distance it took to get back to the beach. I wanted to listen. I wanted to concentrate on the sound of the water bubbling around me. I pressed my hand against the ocean’s cold surface until my fingers broke through and splashed cold water on my face and arms. I licked my lips to taste its salty, bitter flavor. I wanted to savor the image of the smooth sandy beach that waited patiently for us, and the wispy clouds on the edge of the sky that looked like a ribbon floating over the horizon.

  I stared up at the blue canvas above me and wanted to freeze this moment to make it last forever. But sometimes it’s dangerous to stare too long at the sky. It makes you a dreamer. It makes you believe anything is attainable. And anyone.

  We floated back to the beach and when the bottom of the car scratched against sandy ocean floor, Justin unclipped his seat belt. He pulled his body easily out of the seat and landed down next to the car with a splash. I unclipped my belt and he came around to help pull me out. He dragged the car onto the shore and we waited for the wings to wash up. We rolled them up and he threw them on top of the car. The car was light, so Justin grabbed a handle on the back and dragged it behind us.

  We walked back to the house and Justin pushed the car into the garage. I looked down at my arms, pink from the sunshine. He closed the garage door and looked over at me. I watched him and felt that energy again, the electricity that coursed through me when he was too close. His face was lightly sunburned, and it made his dark eyes stand out.

  “Thanks for the ride,” I said. “And flight. And float.”

  “Sorry you thought you were going to die.”

  “Oh, that was just for effect. I wasn’t scared.”

  “Right,” he said, and grinned. I smiled back at him and the wind picked up my hair and tossed wisps of it across my face. He surprised me and reached out his hand and tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear. He let his fingers linger there, longer than necessary.

  I stared back at him and waited. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move.

  But, just as easily as he let himself go, he tensed up and dropped his hand.

  “We need to leave in the morning,” he said suddenly, like he was trying to shift the moment with words.

  “Tomorrow?” I asked. I only had one more night with him?

  “I can’t,” he said. “We can’t . . .” He trailed off. “I need to get back to work,” he reminded me.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I’m taking you to stay with my parents.”

  “Eden?” I said with surprise. It was like telling me I was traveling to another planet, the idea was so foreign. “Will you be there?” I asked.

  “I’m going to be pretty busy for a while,” he said. “I have a lot to catch up on. But I’ll check in with you.” His tone turned businesslike. Unemotional.

  “Oh” is all I could say.

  “I’ll make sure you get settled there before I take off.”

  I nodded at this but my mind felt numb. I heard Justin’s words but they sounded far away, like he was talking through walls.

  “Why don’t you pack a few changes of clothes ton
ight? We’ll leave early,” he said, and without another word, he breezed past me through the door.

  Chapter Twenty

  I sat in the living room that night and tried to concentrate on a book but my mind wandered away from the words and followed my thoughts toward one person. I knew he was downstairs but I didn’t want to bother him. He spent all afternoon with me, which I understood was a privilege considering how valuable his time was. But now I was so used to his presence I had grown to need it. He had become like a second layer of skin.

  I could hear faint sounds coming from the basement and curiosity pulled me out of my seat. I walked down the hallway and listened through the open doorway. I didn’t want to interrupt a phone call, but it wasn’t Justin talking. It sounded like a television was turned on. The door creaked open and I walked down the stairs slowly. When I got to the bottom, Justin looked up at me. He was sitting on the couch, a soda in his hand, looking content. I walked all the way down and turned to gape at the television.

  “We’ve had this the whole time?” I asked.

  I looked around the basement. There was a desk in one corner with a computer sitting on it and monitors and flipscreens were sprawled out on a long table in the wide-open space. The couch and television were sectioned off in the corner of the room. A rug was spread out over the floor in front of the couch. I looked at the basketball game on the screen and back at Justin.

  “It’s my thing,” he said. “It’s how I relax.” He took a sip of his soda and grinned. His cheeks were rosy from the sun.

  “Well,” I said. “Since it’s your birthday I’ll let it go. I guess there has to be some perk to baby-sitting me,” I added.

  Justin watched me. Something in his eyes looked carefully before he spoke.

  “Do you want to join me?”

  Part of me wanted to turn away, to pretend like I didn’t crave his constant presence.

  “I don’t want to bother you. You probably like your alone time.”

  “You don’t,” he said bluntly, and he was right. I didn’t know how to be alone with just my thoughts and no distractions.

  “I’m working on it.”

  “Yeah,” he said, and sat up straighter. “It takes practice.”

  He stood up from the couch and walked toward me. My heart raced as I had the ridiculous idea he was going to reach out for me. He passed me without even a glance and walked to the refrigerator. He came back behind me and sat down with a chocolate bar in his hand.

  He opened it up and offered me some but I shook my head.

  “These are your vices?” I asked. “Chocolate and basketball?”

  The light from the television reflected in his eyes when he looked at me.

  “Uh-huh,” he said, and popped a piece in his mouth. He grinned at me, a lazy grin that made his dimples stand out.

  I walked over to the couch and sat down. Sitting so close, my arm only inches from his, made breathing more of an effort. I could feel heat coming off of his skin. I forced my eyes on the basketball game but every movement he made was a distraction. Every time I saw his chest move, his arm lift the soda to his mouth, or his throat muscles flex when he swallowed, my eyes were drawn to him out of the corner of my eye. I kept my arms crossed tightly over my chest. I looked over at him when the game went to a commercial break and he was watching me. His lips looked soft and red in the light.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  And suddenly I wasn’t. All my nerves were unraveled. I had no idea what to expect in Eden, who would be there, how long I’d stay in hiding. I wondered if I’d ever be welcome in my home again. I felt in the pit of my stomach that anything I had ever imagined as normal was gone forever. Things were changing too fast, like a tornado spinning my life into a wreck.

  Justin set down his soda and turned to give me his full attention.

  “Talk,” he said.

  “I don’t know what to say.” He was right. I was closed off. And I didn’t want to be. Not with him. I met his eyes and they were so intense, so aware, they made my thoughts spin. Why couldn’t I just have a normal conversation with him? Why did my stomach and chest and heart have to do cartwheels every time he looked at me?

  “Is it your parents?” he asked.

  “It’s everything. I went from a life that was so regimented to this blank slate. And now you won’t even be there.”

  “I’ll be there a day or two,” he offered.

  I tried not to wince at this. I knew he’d already given me more time than he gives anyone. I was spoiled.

  “Maddie?”

  Panic gripped my chest and held tight. It felt like the oxygen was trapped in the base of my throat and I had to make an effort to pull it through.

  I met his eyes again.

  “I know it’s easy to say this and difficult to comprehend it right now, but you will be fine.” He said the words slowly to emphasize them. “You’ll be more than fine. Where I’m taking you is so great.”

  “Yeah,” I said. If only it was easy to imagine that, being more than fine. If only he understood I couldn’t be more than fine without him.

  “I know it isn’t home,” he said as he watched me. “But it’s your life now. You’re going to have choices.”

  Tears rolled down my face and I quickly wiped them away.

  “I’m not brave,” I said. “I don’t know what you thought, but I’m not.”

  His voice was sincere. “Yes you are.”

  I shook my head again. “No I’m not. I’m afraid of spiders. And attics. I won’t even go in my basement alone at night.”

  I could hear him smile next to me.

  “Now I’m having a panic attack,” I said.

  “You have a soft heart,” he said. “That’s a good thing. You know, there are so many things you can’t control in life, like what happens to you or how people are going to react to what you do. It’s wasted energy to worry about it. But you can control how you react. That’s the trick.”

  We both fell silent and I tried to steady my breathing, but it still caught in my throat like someone was trying to strangle me. Justin turned so his whole body was facing me. He set one arm up on top of the couch and leaned against the back cushions.

  “Can I teach you something that might help you relax?” he asked.

  I shrugged, convinced I was incapable of relaxing at this point.

  “You need to learn to escape. It’s hard for you to handle silence because you’ve always been bombarded with noise and distractions. You barely ever have to think because a machine is always doing it for you.” I wiped my eyes and nodded.

  “So, with that and with everything else that has happened, you probably feel—”

  “Terrified?”

  He smiled. “You need to find peace in quiet, not panic attacks.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Okay,” he said. He turned off the television and the room turned darker, lit only by a light in the opposite corner of the basement. He focused on me. “Lay your head back and close your eyes.”

  I glanced at him with disbelief but did as he said. I leaned my head against the couch and closed my eyes. In the silent room I was only aware of my heart beating and the sound of my breath.

  “I want you to picture a place where you feel like nothing could ever hurt you. Your utopia.”

  I pressed my lips together with concentration and hoped an image would pop into my head. “Okay.”

  “What do you see?”

  I stared as hard as I could. “The back of my eyelids.”

  Justin waited patiently while I thought about it. I couldn’t see anything.

  “Maybe I don’t have a perfect place.”

  “Picture a place that’s calming. Where you feel safe.”

  I squinted harder. I only saw darkness.

  “I don’t see anything,” I said.

  His voice was steady. “It’s because you’re looking with your eyes, Maddie. Look with your mind. Imagine a place you love.”

  I exhaled deep
ly and thought about how wonderful the day had been with him.

  “The beach,” I said finally.

  “Good. Now describe what it looks like.”

  I creased my forehead. “What do you mean?” I asked, and opened my eyes to stare at him. “It’s a beach.”

  His eyes were patient and his mouth curled up at one side. “You need to concentrate on this. Really imagine it.”

  I took a deep breath and looked away. I squeezed my eyes tight and still envisioned a postcard picture of a beach.

  “Try and describe it,” he said again in a soothing voice.

  The details were obvious. “There’s an ocean and there’s brown sand and blue sky.”

  I felt Justin move next to me. Suddenly annoyed, I opened my eyes and got up to my feet, pressing my hands against my hips.

  “I’m sorry, but making me feel like an idiot isn’t helping me unwind.”

  He sat calmly on the couch and studied me. “I’m making you use your mind. A part of your mind you don’t use often enough in DS.”

  “Well, what’s the point of closing my eyes and pretending?”

  He leaned forward. “The point is imagining. Letting your mind go.”

  I gestured at the back wall of the basement. “The beach is right down the street, you know what it looks like. There’s over a million pictures online if you want to look at them. I’m sorry, but this isn’t the relaxing escape I was planning on.”

  He watched me with a hint of amusement on his face. “Are you finished?”

  “I’m finished playing the ‘describe my happy place’ game. Because I can’t.”

  He cocked his head to the side. “I don’t take you for a quitter.”

  I frowned and played with the zipper on my sweatshirt.

  He kept his eyes steady on mine and I noticed a cautious edge inside of them slip away, like the shields were finally coming down. Their dark brown pool of color, in the dimness across from me, moved like liquid.

  “I’ll help you if you’re willing to try,” he said. “And don’t say ‘I can’t.’ Those words really irritate me.” Justin leaned forward and patted the rug in front of the couch, right in front of his legs. I sighed and took a seat, my back inches from his knees.