Wide Awake (12 page)

Just like me.

I opened my purse and fumbled around for a lipgloss. My cell slipped between my fingers and I remembered that I she had given it to me that day in my room and never turned it on. I pressed the button until it sang its start-up song and then slipped it into my purse again.

It wasn't long before they pulled into a gated community. The gateman waved them in and smiled extra bright as he bent down and waved to me. I waved in kind, but took a deep breath as I tried to prepare myself for the onslaught of people knowing me, but I would be surrounded by strangers. Suddenly, I felt sick to my stomach and my chest seemed too tight. It didn't want to hold my breaths for very long. I tried not to gasp loudly.

"This is our neighborhood," Isabella explained. "Mostly older people, not too many of them had children. But there are a couple of kids that you go to school with that live here, too. Kali will be so happy that you're home."

"Who's Kali?"

"Oh, she's your best friend," she replied a little shrilly. "She used to be at our house almost every day, before…"

"I have a best friend that lives in the same neighborhood as me, who used to be at our house every day…and she didn't come see me in the hospital?"

She exchanged a look with my father. "She and your other friends said you wouldn't want them to come. That you'd be angry if they saw you that way."

"Even after you told them that I couldn't remember?" I asked skeptically.

She shrugged. "You have a certain way with your friends. You were kind of the…queen bee, I guess."
What the hell? What did that mean? I let it go. I had a sinking feeling that every ounce of joy I had about coming home was about to be demolished quickly with all the expectation and disappointment.

Rhett pulled into a driveway and I was scared to lean down and look through the windshield to see it. This was it. This was the first step to my old life. I leaned down and managed to hold in my gasp at the huge three-story white house sitting at the end of the driveway. There was a huge paved, circle driveway out front with two other cars there already. Expensive cars.

"Who's here?" I asked, not ready to see anyone else yet. I needed to get my bearings a bit.

Isabella looked at me sharply. "What do you mean?"

"Whose cars are those?"

She looked relieved. "Oh. That's mine and yours."

I knew right away which one was mine. "You bought me a convertible?"

"It's what you wanted," Rhett reasoned and laughed. "You were so adamant about that car for your sixteenth birthday."
I stared at the little black Mini Cooper convertible with red leather. The way these two talked, I was spoiled. But they found it amusing…endearing. I swallowed that down. OK, one thing at a time. I took a deep breath and opened my door. That prompted them to do the same, as they were waiting for me.

I looked up at the big house and was saddened by the fact that all I could think about what how much I couldn't wait for my therapy session with Mason tomorrow. He came by early, so my parents wouldn't see him, and said his goodbyes, but it wasn't really goodbye, it was see you later. Namely, see you tomorrow. And then he had hugged me and told me he hoped it was everything I wanted, but if it wasn't, to just have faith that it was all going to work out. Then he had kissed my cheek and left in the nick of time before my parents arrived.

"Come on, sweetie." I looked at Isabella. "Let's go in. I'll show you your room."

Rhett was already inside with the bags, so I accepted Isabella's help that she obviously wanted to give, and let her wrap her arm around me like I couldn't make it up the stairs leading to the door without it. When she opened the door, there was a man there. He startled me, and apologized. "Sorry, Miss."

"This is Hanson. He's our butler," she said dismissively. I looked back at him as she towed me away and he shut the door, not showing an ounce of emotion. "And this is the housekeeper, Maya." She waved her hand at her, but kept going. I looked back at Maya the same way I had Hanson, but she, too, was a picturesque statue of poise.

"And this," she preluded before opening a huge double door, "is the library. But honestly, this is more my favorite room than yours."

I felt my jaw open wide with wonder. The shelves lined the walls completely, floor to ceiling. The shelves were so tall, there was a ladder on a track to reach the top shelves. There were several large lounge chairs and pillows in the center. I ached to go in and sit for hours. "It's…epic."

She giggled. "Oh, you don’t have to pretend you like it. I know reading's not your thing."

I let her pull me away. She showed me the kitchen and dining room that looked more like a restaurant than a home. She showed me the living room, the den, the sitting room, the drawing room, the cocktail room… At that point I was exhausted from all the rooms that held no function but…just sitting there. I asked where my room was, and she smiled and took me upstairs.

I tried to hide how winded I was from step after step after step. My legs even wobbled a little.

She waited, looking at me with a little smile with her hand on the knob. I could tell she was apparently proud of this room and was trying to build the suspense. I tried to act excited. When she opened the door slowly, I felt my eyes bug…in a bad way.

It looked like Barney ate too much eggplant and then threw up in my room.

The walls, floors, pillows, bed, chandelier, and lamps were all purple. She seemed to be waiting for a reaction so I turned and smiled. Or at least I tried. "Wow. Purple, huh?" She smiled and nodded. "She liked purple an awful lot, didn't she?"

When she didn't answer, I turned back to her. She was pale in a scared way. "You OK?"

"
You
liked purple. Not her, you."

"Oh…" Crap. "I'm sorry. I meant me. I liked purple an awful lot. I thought my favorite color was pastel pink?"

She smiled a little bit. "It is, but purple was your second favorite. You even threw a fit about the convertible because your dad got red leather when you wanted purple."

I scoffed. "Wouldn't I have just been grateful to have the car at all?"
She laughed uneasily. "Well, honey, you're very particular. You like things the way you like them. There's nothing wrong with being certain of what you want."

"Well, no, but…you make me sound so ungrateful. It's a freaking car that I didn’t pay a dime for. I should have just been happy to be getting a car, not focused on the color of the leather."

That sounded like a new level of ridiculous.

"Your daddy wanted you to be happy," she said, a bit more loudly. She was offended that was I was insulting…myself. The old me. My head was spinning.

"OK. Sorry."

"You don’t have to be sorry. But we love you. Don't talk about yourself like you're an ungrateful, spoiled brat when you don't even really know yourself yet. It's like you're gossiping or something."

I stared. Gossiping about myself?

She moved on. "Your bathroom is in here." She pointed, but didn't go in. "And your closet is here." She giggled at some memory. "You could spend hours in here." She eyed me over objectively. "But…" she said carefully, and toyed with the pearls around her neck, "I'm afraid not much is going to fit you in this closet. We'll have to go shopping as soon as possible."

"Yeah," I drawled and looked down at myself to the jeans and sweater she'd brought to the hospital. "I imagine this skeleton could use a few pounds, huh?" She pursed her lips. "I mean…I guess being in a coma and not eating as much, I probably look different than I did."

She went into the closet and came back with a pair of jeans. She turned me to the full-length mirror next to my armoire and held the jeans up to my waist. They were too small.
Too freaking small.

"Are you seriously telling me I
gained
weight while in a coma and recovering?"

"You were very conscious of your weight," she said in a manner that said she was speaking carefully. "You exercised daily, on top of your cheerleading schedule, and you put yourself on a very strict diet. It was another reason I was glad that your friends didn't come to the hospital to see you. They would have been…harsh on you. Your appearance was very important to you."

"What exactly was my diet? Water and carrots?"

She pursed her lips again. "Remember what I said about judging yourself."

"How does one gain weight when they aren't eating anything? I was in a coma! I was literally eating nothing and I gained weight. Which can only mean that I had a serious problem before I went into that coma."

"They put food into a tube for you, Emma. You had to be eating something to survive."

"Yeah. What they put into my tube was more calories than I was eating here," I said. I had to make her see. The daughter they had, the girl that I used to be, didn't walk on water like they wanted me to believe.

"Whatever, Emmie. It's done," she stated in exasperation. "We'll go shopping soon, when you feel up to it. In the meantime, you can order some clothes online if you like. You have credit cards in the purse I brought you. It's in your luggage."

"Thanks," I muttered.

"I'd really like it if you bought some clothes and anything else you want. This is your room, your life, and your credit cards that your father got you. It's yours, Emma," she pressed. "You don't have to feel guilty, or like you don't have the right or don't belong. You do. We'll all get used to things together. It may take a while, but we’re family. Thick or thin, hell or high water, fire or brimstone. Deal?"

I found myself feeling soft toward her. She was trying so hard.

"OK." I took a deep, deep breath. "OK. I'm sorry."

She came and took my face in her hands. She smelled like expensive vanilla. "Honey, I love you any way that I can get you. I'm just trying to help you by showing you the person you used to be, all right? We're a very open family here. We always talked about everything." She chuckled. "You used to come home from cheerleading practice and complain to Felicia and me about boys and school and just everything. So you can come to me about anything. Anything at all."

"I'd like that," I said. "Honestly, it's hard to imagine having a mom that you talk to about everything."

She smiled wryly. "And sometimes, I wanted to strangle you, but you were always honest, I'll give you that. The time you came to me after you and Andrew had sex the first time, ugh…"

My world fell to the floor. I wasn't a virgin? Now that I thought about everything they had told me about myself, and the way Andy was with me, it wasn't a surprise, but to know that I wasn't a virgin…and couldn't even remember it…

She was oblivious to my turmoil as she kissed my forehead and said she'd let me get settled, she'd buzz me when it was time for dinner. I didn't know what that meant, but it didn't matter.

Andrew not only stole my first kiss, but now he stole my virginity as well. OK, so maybe I was being a little harsh. I probably threw it at him from the way he talked, but not being able to remember something like that…

I felt robbed.

So I dove in, deciding to distract myself by exploring my room. I couldn't think of a better way to get to know myself anyway than to find out all the nooks and crannies of the girl who used to live here.

I started with the closet. All the clothes were impossibly small. I probably gained two sizes since I'd worn anything in this closet. The extremely sad thing? I had been thinking before that I needed to gain a couple pounds to be healthier.

I pulled one shirt after another out and stared at them. It looked like a toddler's closet. The shirts were so small and skimpy. And the shorts were the same. Jean shorts underwear. That was exactly what it looked like. My mother was fine with me leaving the house that way? And school? What did I wear to school?

I found myself pulling everything out, item by item. Skirts that were
so
not skirts and everything else. I threw them into the empty hamper and stared at the empty closet. Not one thing…not one that I could or
would
wear. I finally searched high and low and found a pair of cheer sweatpants and a t-shirt. I folded the clothes I had removed, not sure of what to do with them. I placed them on the dresser neatly and tried to pretend that I wasn't a stranger there.

I looked around the room. A little table was full of make-up and jewelry. Two prom tickets and pictures lined the mirror's edge. It took me a second to find myself in them. There were several cheer photos, some random, some posed. There were a couple of my sister and me, and a whole slew of Andy. The ones of us, we didn't look happy, we looked privileged. We didn't look like we were in love, we looked like we loved being on top of the world. I always positioned myself in front of him, and his arms were always wrapped around me from behind or around my shoulders. It wasn't intimate, which surprised me.

I looked so aloof and uncaring, like this was all just part of the job or plan. I squinted and tried to make some sense of it. Then I heard a dinging sound. I looked around and followed the sound all the way to my suitcase. I opened my purse and fished my phone out. I had a text message. I smiled when I opened it.