Wide Awake (9 page)

All.

By.

Myself.

This simple task, this simple thing that we all take for granted, that's so cute and monumental when a baby takes his first steps...but these first steps were so much more than that. Though I cried like a baby, I wasn't one. And though my mother cooed and fawned over me (because I had invited them
that
day to come because I just knew that day was going to be
the
day) I wasn't a toddler. I was me. I was finally getting a little piece of myself back. And though I tried so hard not to, my eyes drifted to the one person in the room that I knew would understand all this better than anyone else.

Mason's eyes were already on me from across the parallel walking bars. This time, I didn't shy away from his gaze. I knew that our terms were shaky, but so was I, and I needed the stability of my lifeline. As our gazes collided, I expected a smile and happiness, but I didn't expect the level of pride and utter joy to be so prominent. The man was bursting at the seams with it. It filled his face and the smile he wore was the beautiful one that made me feel like everything was going to be OK.

His lips parted and even in the loud room, I could still hear his breath. He said quietly, "You did it, Em." He moved forward and touched my arm. It was the first time he had touched me in weeks that had nothing to do with therapy. "I'm so proud of you."

As his fingers circled my elbow, and I tried not to shiver in his grasp, I asked softly, knowing the answer, "You didn't believe that I was going to walk again someday?"

"Of course I did." He smiled wider. "But today was the first time that
you've
ever believed it."

He was right. Having faith and having hope were not the same thing, and I was just now understanding that.

"Thank you for having faith in me. I wanted to, but I…"

"I know." His fingers that had calluses from working hard moved against my cheek like I more than mattered. "It's hard. I know."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the bugged-eyed look on my mother at seeing Mason's affection to me, but it was the fact that he was actually
showing me affection
that had me stunned and careless if she saw or not. Mr. Garner had also looked up from his clipboard, but Mason was all that mattered.

"It's just going to get harder, isn't it?"
"Afraid so." His smile was easy. He moved closer and stood right in front of me, putting his hands on the sides of my waist. He squeezed his hands a little into my skin. "I've got you."

I relinquished my death-grip on the bar and gripped his upper arms instead. When my nose bumped into his chest, I almost laughed, but as I looked up I saw how close his face was. It was the closest his lips had ever been to mine. He didn't move away, just watched me. After the moment grew, an awkward little smile began to tug at his mouth. I followed suit and soon, we were both grinning.

I moved closer and we did a tandem-step routine all the way to my wheelchair. I hated the thing, but after workouts it was necessary because I was all tapped out. Isabella, or uh, my mother, said she would see me the next day. She had some dinner meetings with my father's work and needed to go, but said she'd be back. She leaned down, and though she seemed weird about it, she kissed my cheek and said how proud she was of me.

After she was gone, Mason began to wheel me back to my room. I felt his lips press on my ear. "How about I go get you a real dinner? No prison food for you tonight."

I managed not to shiver, just barely. "Doesn't really matter. Eating alone…it doesn't matter what you're eating."

"You won't be eating alone tonight."

I pushed my door open with my foot and held on to him as he lifted me easily to put me back in the bed. "You're staying with me for dinner?"

"Sure. If that's OK with you." He folded the chair and put it off to the side. He came back to the bed and sat, putting his hand on my knee over the covers. His fingers moved in a swirl and he smiled. "Would that be OK?"
"Of course. I just don't…"

He scratched his arm, pushing his sleeve up, causing his tattoo to show. He seemed nervous. "It's different being with you for therapy and being with you because I've missed you. I miss the smile that you seem to have only when I'm around and not being a jackass."

Should I ask him and risk ruining this moment? "What changed? I thought you said you needed this job."

"I do," he agreed, "but you worked your butt off. You took a step, so…so will I."

I felt myself smile just a bit. "You don’t have to do that."

He looked at the blanket and licked his lips. "I want to," he said softly and looked up at me. "Gah, Emma…I want to so badly."

I didn't know what to say, but it didn't matter. He stood and took my hand in his.

"I'll be back." He kissed my palm and there was no way to stop the gasp that came from my lips. And there was no way the small noise, groan, whatever, that came from his throat was imagined either. "I'll be back really soon. And then we'll…talk."

I nodded. He rubbed his head and chuckled as he made his way out.

I waited. After twenty minutes, I turned on the TV and after an hour, I started to feel stupid. Mrs. Betty usually brought me dinner at night and came by for the second time, asking me again if I wanted some dinner. "It's just that this is my last round, so there won't be anything for you after this. I'd hate for you to go to bed hungry because you're waiting for him."

"But he said he'd be right back," I sulked.

"He probably had an emergency. Mason has lots of emergencies."

What did that mean? She lifted a brow that said
Take the food, silly
. "All right. Do you have any sandwiches?"

"I got the best darn grape-chicken sandwich this side of the Mason-Dixon." She handed it to me. I looked at it skeptically, all wrapped in cellophane and not what I wanted to eat tonight.

"Thanks," I murmured. "Though technically, I have no idea what it tastes like anyway." I pointed to my head in jest. "I'm amnesiafied. Remember, Mrs. Betty."

She smiled and went on. "I'm sure he had a good reason. Mason's not the kind of guy who leaves a girl hanging. He's one of the most responsible boys I know."

"He is not a boy," I said wryly, and she smirked at me from the doorway.

"Well, I guess not." She smiled in a knowing way. "I've leave you to your gourmet meal."

"Ha, ha."

She waved and went out. I stared at the sandwich, my appetite nonexistent. I set it on the bedside table and almost picked up the book Mason gave me…but decided against it. Instead, sulking was the order of business and I got right to it. I rolled my head to the side and stared at the Christmas presents still wrapped in the windowsill. I couldn't bring myself to open them. They were for
her
after all. They were for that girl I used to be, and I wasn't interested in seeing what they would have gotten her.

I closed my eyes and wondered what would have made Mason change his mind like that. I was confused in the worst way, because not only did I not understand what had happened, I couldn't even make it into the bathroom to sulk like a girl properly.

So I settled for a mild pity party and tried to sleep. Soon, I did.

"Emma, time for your meds."

I squinted and turned from the annoying noise. "What?"

"It's time for your meds," she said more forcefully. It was the morning nurse. Why they insisted on coming and giving me meds at seven at the butt-crack-of-dawn was beyond me. I downed the pills and smiled angrily at her. She turned, unfazed, and left, letting the door shut with a small slam.

It was then I noticed Mason. He was sitting in the armchair asleep, one leg over his knee and his head leaned back. He was even snoring just a tad, and it kinda pissed me off how adorable it was. I wanted to be mad at him. He had blown me off and I wasn't going to accept his cute little snore as an apology. Even though it was obvious he had slept there uncomfortably and had come back. But why? What had happened last night? I was beginning to think Mrs. Betty was right. It must have been some emergency. I tried to think of any other family members he talked about, but had only heard of his mother, who died in an accident.

I leaned my head against the pillow and watched him. He had watched me when I had my freak-out and it was time to return the favor. He swallowed and I watched his throat work. I was shocked at how much I liked that. Then he moved a little, tilting his head. He seemed to be dreaming.

On his lap was another book. The title read
Even More Useless Facts
. I was so confused. First he ditched me after making a point to tell me he wanted more, and now he's bringing me more books?

I decided not to wake him, though I couldn't deny that my traitorous body was happy that he was here. I just couldn't let him see how much I wanted him there when he clearly was even more confused than I was. I wanted him to make the decision for himself to want to be here, not just be here because that's what he thinks I want from him.

While he slept, Isabella brought in a box of things for me. She kept looking back at Mason curiously, and then at me with a small, guilt-inducing expression. As if I were doing something wrong. I didn't understand why.

Did she not want Mason here when he was clearly there for other reasons than business ones? But I thought she loved Mason.

"And here's your cell. It's been turned off all this time so there's no telling what's on here, but I charged it before I came. Maybe it will be good to see your friends' names and what they had to say to you."

I raised an eyebrow at her. She just smiled as I put the phone to the side. That was something I'd have to do later when I was alone. Next she handed me a purse. It was had a 'D&B' on the side. I wondered what that stood for because it wasn't my initials. After unzipping, I peeked inside, almost scared of what I'd find. Sitting on top was a small pouch that had a ton of make-up in it, lipgloss of every color. I uncapped one and it smelled like coconut. I put a little on and tasted it with my tongue. It was sweet.

"You have a thing for lipgloss," she said sweetly as she put an errant strand of hair back behind my ear. "That's why I always made sure to put it on you here."

I remembered. "Thanks. I can see why I'd like it."

"I need to discuss some things with the warden," she said and winked at her joke. "I'll be back in a bit, OK? Your father will be here after work."

I nodded. When she closed the door, Mason jolted awake. He looked around and when he saw me watching him, he smiled sadly. "I bet you're wondering why I'm sleeping here, huh?"

I shook my head. He wasn't weaseling any smiles out me. I wasn't going to let him off the hook for this so easily. Or so I thought.

He swiftly came, setting the book on my table, and sat on the sheets next to me. His weight pulled the sheets tight, making me roll a bit toward him as I sat there. "I am so sorry, Emma. I had an emergency and couldn't get away in time. When I finally made it here, you were asleep. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," I dismissed. I looked down at my sheets. They seemed to be a constant source of visual stimulation for me. I just had this vibe from him that he was holding something back. Maybe he thought hurting my feeling would halt my progress in therapy, but I felt his fingers under my chin and when I looked up, he was so close his breath skated across my cheek.

"No, it's not fine. I'm the worst kind of scum. I'm fish-tank algae. I'm horse-hoof matter. I'm-"

I laughed in spite of it. "OK, I get it. It's fine."

"It's not," he argued again, serious, "but I don't know what I can do to make it up to you. I have a lot of family emergencies unfortunately, and I can't sit here and say that it won't happen again. It might." I nodded at his honesty. "But I'll try my hardest, and beg you to understand that I wasn't here because I didn't want to be. I did, very much."

I wanted to ask what emergencies they were, but he hadn't divulged anything as of yet, and I didn't want to make him. Again, I wanted him to
want
to share these things with me. "I'll take that."

He smiled that Mason smile that set me on fire all over, and then he put one hand on the other side on the hospital bed and the other lifted toward my face. I waited...bated breath, gulping, sweaty palms, the works. His face got so close before he stopped. I thought he had decided against whatever he was doing he waited so long. I began to pull back in disappointment, but he reached behind my neck gently and pulled me to him. The barest of touches was the best way to describe our first kiss. It wasn't really a kiss at all. His bottom lip barely brushed my top one. When he leaned back and opened his eyes, he must've seen the confusion and frustration in my face. He chuckled. "I just had to taste that coconut…" he licked his lips, "but I don't want to kiss you when you've been angry at me and I messed up our date." He said 'date'. Like…a date. "I want to kiss you when, if we go another second without it, one of us will combust."