Wide Awake (21 page)

There seemed to be just one or two lines on each day. The first day seemed to be in August. The first day of school, I bet. I flipped the page to the next one.

Andy and I had sex in the boys' locker room again today. He has completely stopped worrying about my pleasure, and instead, is done with me the second he finds his. Boys.

I covered my stunned lips. I sounded so uncaring and just fine with it. Like it annoyed me, but not enough to do anything about it. And it brought up the unpleasant reminder that I wasn't a virgin. The fact that I gave it away so carelessly and didn't even seem to enjoy it at all made me feel so sorry for her, for the old Emma.

Daddy bought me the new Dooney & Bourke today.

The next day.

Rachel Simmons wore that God-awful skirt and everyone saw her lady-junk at lunch today. Priceless.

The next day.

The group went to the movies and saw the new Channing Tatum. The boys laughed and the girls drooled. Channing, run away with me, baby.

The next day.

If Kali doesn't do something about those cankles, I'll be forced to kick her from the squad. God...what a pig. She thinks she hides those packages of SweetTarts in her locker well, but she's an amateur playing in the big leagues.

And the next day.

Andy took me to Valentino's on the river for my birthday. He can be such a sweetie when he wants to be. Now if he'll only get me the Gwen Stefani tickets I want for our anniversary, I won't cut him off.

The next.

Misty, the Big Red Freak, was caught paying for her lunch today with a free lunch school card. I didn't even have to retaliate that she was eying Andy like a popsicle at the pep rally. One word, skank. Karma.

That was it, the final push that was too much. I threw the book across the room. Karma... karma...

What exactly was good about that girl? She was horrible and too honest and uncaring. She cared about nothing and no one but her things and her ranking among the fellow students. I got up and grabbed the pink and purple book from the floor. The radio still played softly in the background and there it was again. That song. My hands began to shake as that distinctive guitar rang out. My knees buckled and I tried to catch my breath as I knelt on my knees.
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah...

That sound not only took my breath, it made me feel wrong. It invited feelings in me that even waking up in the hospital hadn't. I vaguely heard the door open and Isabella saying my name. She ran to turn the radio off and knelt on the floor beside me. "Oh, Emma! What's happening? What's the matter?"

"That song..." I tried to explain.

"The song...you're remembering?" she said hopefully. "Is that why you have a headache, because you're brain hurts?"

I pushed her hand away. "No. I'm not remembering." I took a few deep breaths, letting the air clean away the horrible, grimy feeling from before. "I heard that song in the hospital, too. It makes me feel...bad."

"Bad? Bad as in, you don't like it?" she said, clearly not understanding.

"No. Like something bad is tied to it. I have no idea what or why."

"Oh," she replied with disappointment. "Well...you've been home for a couple weeks now. I would have thought that you'd remember something by now."

I felt my fist clench around the book that I'd written. "Here." I shoved it at her. "Take it. This is what your daughter was like. I found her diary, of sorts. Go on, take it." She reached for it and looked at it lovingly. I rolled my eyes in disgust. "Keep it. I don't want to see it again."

"Emma," she placated and it was too much.

"I'm going to bed. Good night."

"Without any supper?"

"I'm not hungry," I said softly.

"What about cheerleading practice?" she asked, as though everything was fine and she hadn't just found me in a ball on the floor.

"I just want to go to sleep, go to school, do my therapy, survive, and then repeat." I gave her a pleading look. "Please. I know you're disappointed, but I can't do anything more right now."

She pursed her lips in the way that I was becoming accustomed to. "OK, Emmie. OK."

She left, taking that horrible book with her. I looked over at the bed
Emmie
used to sleep in. There was no way I was sleeping in her bed tonight. So I put my clothes on, took my purse and bag with me for school tomorrow, just in case, and went to the only place in the whole world lately that I felt safe and loved, just as I was.

Mason's car wasn't there yet when I walked up, so I went into the shop to wait for him. His jacket was still on the chair where we'd left it the last time, so I swung it over my torso and huddled on the couch.

It wasn't very long before I saw headlights. I hadn't turned the lights on because I didn't want to scare Mason's mom or the nurse. I figured if he didn't come in to the shop, I'd go knock on the door. But he did come in, barreling through the door with a giggling, moaning girl.

Useless Fact Number Thirteen

The average person falls asleep in seven minutes.

I stared as he slammed the door with his foot and hoisted her onto the tabletop, pawing at her shirt.

I watched the silhouette of the back of his head in the dark for so long that I knew I needed to leave before something that I
really
wanted no part of happened between the two. I could watch no longer, and stood. I started to make my way to the door, covering my eyes and wishing upon everything I knew that I could shield my ears from those horrible noises.

I ran out, and just as the tears began, hot, betrayed, and stinging on my cheeks, more headlights pulled into the driveway. The beater? I stared as Mason got out and threw his keys up into the air a bit, catching them in his hand. He saw me standing under the tree and stopped. "Em?" He moved swiftly to me and took my face in his hands carefully. "Oh, no. What happened?"

I opened my mouth to say, but nothing would come. We heard something shatter in the shop and a loud laugh, followed by that annoying giggle. He looked at me curiously, took my hand, and towed me with him. He slammed the door open and turned the light on. The guy that had been there the other night was there with a girl. She was pretty and had a little tattoo of a heart on the side of her neck. She gasped and covered her top half with her shirt and arms. He tried to cover her, too, while still trying to find out what was going on. He squinted in the lights. "Mason? I thought you said you were busy tonight?"

"My sessions ended early." He crossed his arms and gave him a look. "What the hell?"

"I think it's obvious, brother."

The girl gasped. "Baby, come on." She was so obviously embarrassed that I walked out and leaned against the side of the house. I heard her again. "Mason, I'm sorry. I figured we'd come visit, but then we got here and no one was here. He didn't say you were busy tonight. This big lug can't keep his hands to himself."

Mason laughed. "Patrice, it's fine. Normally it doesn't matter, but..." he peeked outside and grinned as he took my hand to pull me back inside with him, "I think you scared the hell out of Emma."

"Emma," she said softly and looked at the guy. "The one you told me about?"

The 'big lug' nodded and grinned at me. "Hello again, Emma."

"Hi," I said. "Sorry. Didn't mean to break up the...party. I was just..." I pointed to the couch where my purse and bag still were, "waiting for Mason."

"Wait. You were in here?" the guy asked. It was kind of hilarious to see this big, burly, leather-wearing, tattooed guy blush.

"I was waiting for him...and I thought..." I sighed.

Mason turned me to look at him. He took in my face and eyes. "You thought it was me," he stated factually.

I already felt chagrined about it as it was. Mason's head shook back and forth as my silence gave him my answer. He touched my cheek, pulling me close. "Em, you've got to know by now that I don't want anyone but you."

I bit my lip. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

"Don't be sorry." He smiled. Before I could think, I swooped up and kissed his smile. When I pulled away, he brought me back and kissed me again, a little harder and longer this time. When I opened my eyes, he hadn't moved back. He just looked at me with this look like he wanted to say so much more, but couldn't. I peeked over at the girl and guy. They stood slack-jawed, open mouthed, and silent. I cleared my throat a little and leaned back down, but into Mason's side.

His hand reached under my shirt in the back and rested there on my skin. I may have swayed from pleasure.

"Well, how about I order a pizza?" Mason said, trying to rein in the awkwardness. "Can you stay, Em?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

So we all sat dispersed on the two couches. Mason called and ordered three pizzas from his cell and then sat next to me. He pulled my legs into his lap and started massaging my calves through my jeans. "You walked here again, huh?"

"Yep. Exercise is good for you, you know."

He chuckled. "So they tell me."

"So, Emma," the girl ventured. "How are you doing? I can only imagine going through what you have."

"I'm working it all out. Some days aren't as easy as others." I looked at Mason. "But then there are these really, really great days..."

He smiled shyly and looked down at his fingers as they worked my muscles. When I looked back up at her, she was giving me this look. At first, I thought it might be jealousy or protection, but it was unbelief. Was she doubting my feelings for him, or doubting his?

But then she said softly, "We went to school with Mason."

I got her meaning. That she knew all about the horrible things Mason had been through.

He looked up at her. "Patrice-"

"And he's the sweetest, most caring, loving man I know." She looked at the guy. "Sorry, babe, but you know it's true." He shrugged and smiled. "He cares to a fault. What happens to him if you remember everything?"

Wow, so she really did know everything about my situation.

"Patrice," Mason complained in a hiss.

I didn't need to think about the answer. "It won't matter."

I took my legs from his lap and set them on the floor. I scooted to the edge of the couch, and her eyes bulged like she was imagining that I was about to bolt, but she didn't know me yet.

And Mason probably thought I was angry at her for questioning me, but she cared about him. And anyone that protected Mason, the boy who cared so much for his mother and brother that he put his entire life on hold for them, was a friend of mine.

So I went on. "I know I must seem like a liability." I peeked at Mason to find him watching me closely, his fists on his knees. "And I don't know what's going to happen. I wish I did, so much. Mason is impossible not to love-" I stopped. Crap, I just said that out loud. Her eyes softened. "Anyway, you don't have anything to worry about."

I licked my lips as they sat silently. Then she grinned and leaned forward, her hand outstretched. "Mason is so rude." Mason chuckled and touched the small of my back. "We haven't been properly introduced. I'm Patrice, and this impossible lug is Rob."

I took her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"You, too. Well, stick around, Emma." She looked at Mason with obvious affection. "I've never seen Mason so...shiny before."