Awaken (The Awaken Series Book 1) (26 page)

It would be naïve of us to think that no one would catch on to this glitch, but the plan was to sneak away before anyone had time to notice. Many things could go wrong, but Jasper and I refused to be anything less than hopelessly optimistic. At this point, we had little to lose. We had to try
something
.

“You once told me about a story called
Romeo and Juliet
,” I said suddenly, looking up from the computer screen for the first time in an hour.
 

I had been scouring emails to find the names and emails of the first shift of guards, plus other information about how things were supposed to play out. I had to become as much of an expert as Father so I wouldn’t tip off anyone with the emails I was composing. I had to write exactly like him, plus I had to include specific information vital to the Project. It had to appear real.

“Probably because that thing scarred me for life. Depressing stuff.” Jasper said, munching on some popcorn Lilly made.

“Why? You said that it was a tale of forbidden love and that they were going to run away together. Did they?”

Jasper stopped throwing popcorn in his mouth and hesitated for a moment.
 

“Of course they did,” he said. It wasn’t a convincing claim.

“Then why was it depressing?”

“The two families battled, and every last one of them died,” Jasper said without skipping a beat.

“Huh. That is sad,” I said.
 

“So are you almost done?” he asked.
 

“I thought I was the one with impatience issues. Quit pestering me, I’m almost there.”

“You should take a break,” Jasper said, looking at me suggestively.

“Eat your popcorn and stop talking to me,” I replied, grinning. “My will is stronger than that.”

Jasper moved a Pixies CD in front of my face, putting on a pouty face like a puppy begging for food at the dinner table. He knew I didn’t care for most of his rock albums.

“Fine,” I said, sighing dramatically.
 

He slid the music into the laptop, and I emailed each guard a part of the first shift while listening to the Pixies’s roller-coaster ride of mellow acoustic-backed crooning, and full-assault guitars and screaming vocals. I might never understand Jasper’s love for that kind of music, but that was okay. Seeing the passion in his eyes when he talked about rock music was enough for me to love it on some level too, even if that love did not extend to listening to it.

After another hour, I shut the laptop.

“I’m done. We have a date for six o’clock,” I said.
 

Jasper sat up. “Should I wear a tux?”
 

I cocked my head.
 

“So I could look like James Bond?” Seeing that my confusion hadn’t diminished, Jasper shook his head. “Never mind. Once we reach civilization we’ll have the most epic movie marathon in all of history.”
 

I smiled at his enthusiasm.
 

“Seriously. It will last days, weeks even.”

“Where are we going to stay?” I asked, suddenly panicked. There had been far too little thought concerning anything past our escape.

“I have tons of friends back in Portland that would help us out,” Jasper said, his eyes lighting up at the change in conversation. “You’ll love it there. You seem like a big-city kind of girl.”

“I can’t wait.” I grinned, setting the laptop down on the coffee table. I leaned back next to Jasper.

“And when we get our hands on a car, I’ll take you to the coast. You’ll finally get to see the ocean.” Jasper looked straight ahead as he spoke, already lost in the vision of our future we were dreaming up. “I do worry, though, that once you see it you’ll never want to be anywhere else.”

“I don’t care where we go once we’re out,” I said. “I don’t care if we never stop moving. We could drive all over the continent for all I care.”

“The entire continent, huh?” Jasper paused. “Sounds epic.”

“Wait, how are we even going to get to Portland?” I asked, the mental image of Jasper and I lost and dying of starvation kind of ruined all of the plans we were making.

“Well, we’re going to be on bikes, and from there…” Jasper held up his thumb.

I shot him a confused look, but he just grinned.

“We’re going to walk on our thumbs?” I asked, making Jasper laugh. “Wait no, we’re going to use the magical properties of our thumbs to teleport ourselves?”

“Now you’re just being ridiculous. Walking on our thumbs is obviously the realistic option here.”

“Uh oh,” I said, my vision blurring.

“What is it?”

“I’m remembering something.”

“So here’s the plan,” Jasper said. “You’ll go home and do your best to act like everything is completely normal. You’ll tell your parents that the shock of your aunt’s death was just too much for you to handle. You took a walk to calm down and separate the truth from the delusions you convinced yourself to believe.

“Lilly’s close friend from Portland is the guy who shuttles Outsiders in from Oportet. She just called him. He is willing to sneak us out the gate and drop us off in Portland where he’s scheduled to pick up some families Monday night.
 

“Instead of packing our backpacks with school things, we’ll pack them with essentials for the road. We’ll hang out in the forest until it’s time to leave at noon, and then we’ll ride our bikes to the abandoned stretch of houses where the shuttle driver is meeting us. We’ll duck down in the seats until we’re out,” Jasper finished.

“Foolproof,” I said. I was ready to leave. I felt no regret; I believed I was fully capable of lying to and fighting anyone who posed a threat to our escape.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning at seven-thirty, then,” Jasper said, leading me to the door.

“I’ll be there. No matter what.”

~~~~~

It was Sunday night. If all went as planned, Jasper and I would be on the road in less than twenty-four hours.

My parents were content enough with the fact that I came home calm and collected on Friday. I told them exactly what they wanted to hear, and although they weren’t entirely convinced, it was just enough for them not to launch a full-scale investigation.

We attended a small family funeral Saturday to pay our respects to Aunt May. Megan and Mother cried. Father looked on sternly, casting me glances as if to remind me that I would end up like her if I didn’t behave.

By the time of the funeral, I had no more tears to shed. I comforted Megan and hugged my mother, and that was the end of it. I knew May would be proud of me. I knew she was rooting for me from wherever she was. I made a promise to her that she wouldn’t have died in vain. It was my determination to keep this promise that kept the tears at bay. Aunt May was not dead. She was alive in me.

I stirred my soup aimlessly, too busy fantasizing about what lay ahead to be bothered with my last family dinner. As soon as the words ‘last family dinner’ ran through my mind, the wall of apathy I had constructed for anyone but Lilly and Jasper crumbled.

My eyes flickered from face to face. Father’s was stern and withered by work stress, his brown hair thinned and receded. Then I looked to Mother. Her straight red hair was tucked behind her ears as she ate, and her pale skin was dotted with freckles.
 

Megan was next, and she was the easiest to let past my barrier. We had been so close when we were younger. Things were different now, but I struggled with the thought of leaving her here in Oportet, where she would no doubt fade away—asleep her whole life. She looked up from her food, feeling my stare. All I saw was her bright green eyes, and the way they complemented the hair she inherited from Mother. Megan would be as beautiful as May when she was older.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Megan asked with narrowed eyes. She giggled when I shrugged. “You’re a weirdo.”

“Megan.” Mother shot her a look. “We don’t call people names. You’ll be in eighth grade in a matter of months. You’d better start acting like it.”

Megan scowled and went back to eating.

I didn’t want to remember my family as monsters. They weren’t perfect, but their faults were mostly due to circumstance. How could I blame them for someone else’s manipulation?

I wanted to remember them for the happy memories: the birthday parties, the family gatherings, the times Mother comforted me and Father made me laugh, the silly games of make-believe with Megan. I even wanted to remember Jenna as my loyal best friend of ten years.

I was leaving them. I owed them that courtesy, even if they had no way of knowing it.

“We’re very proud of you Luna,” Mother said, casting a glance at Father.

“For what?”

“For how hard you’ve worked in school all these years. We are very excited to see you graduate soon,” she explained.

“Oh.”

“We know you’ve had a rough year,” Father started. He cleared his throat and took a large gulp of his water. “But I think it’s finally time to put all of that behind us—for good.”

I nodded. “Yes. I think so too.”
 

Father didn’t know just how literal that statement was about to be. In a matter of hours I would see Oportet in the rearview mirror, and I would be putting it behind me for good.

“Megan,” Mother said. “It’s your turn to wash the dishes.”

Megan huffed, stacking our plates up and carrying them to the kitchen sink. My eyes followed her as she went, and then rested on the clock that hung on the wall above her. It was six forty-five.

Right on cue, the phone rang.

“That’s Jenna calling about the essay,” I said, rising from the table. A few hours ago I filled my parents in about an imaginary English essay, along with a scheduled phone call with who they thought was my best friend.

Mother exchanged glances with Father. I watched as her eyes moved to her laptop.

“You may be excused,” Father said. “Your Mother and I have some work to do as well.”

Ignoring my parents’ fidgety movements and awkward glances, I rushed upstairs to grab the phone.

“Hey,” I answered just as my fingers closed around the plastic. I was slightly out of breath from my sprint up the stairs.

I clicked my door shut behind me and lay back on my bed. I glanced around my room, programming each pattern of fabric and piece of furniture into my mind. I never wanted to forget anything about my room—my home. I didn’t want to forget the feel of the cool wood of my desk beneath my fingers, the way the morning sun cast designs with its light against my carpet, or even how it felt to creep under my warm covers in the dead of winter. I wanted to keep it with me, even as I left it empty and lifeless without my presence.

“Any cold feet?” Jasper asked.
 

I snapped out of my trance at the sound of his voice.

“Nope.” I would be meeting Jasper tomorrow even if my legs stopped working. I didn’t mind crawling. “But that might just be because I’m wearing socks.”

“Feeling witty, are we?”

“Can’t we just go tonight? I don’t think I can wait any longer.”
 

 
“I know what you mean.” Jasper sighed. “But unfortunately that bus won’t get here until tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I know. Seven-thirty, right?” I asked, although I was more than sure of the time. How could I forget?

“Seven-thirty. If all goes as planned, we’ll be in Portland in less than twenty-four hours.”

“I know. I’ve been repeating that fact in my head all day. We’re so close,” I said, looking out my window. A full moon hung in the sky, reminding me of the first time I ever spoke to Jasper on the phone. He told me that Luna was another name for the moon.
 

I fell asleep with the moon painted on the inside of my eyelids, giving me the courage I needed. Aunt May had chosen my name, and I imagined her watching me from the sky, taking the form of the giant, glowing orb I was named after.

~~~~~

I stared at myself in the mirror for a good ten minutes. My stomach was going crazy: nervousness, anxiety, fear and excitement bouncing about inside me.

I braided my long, dark hair and pushed it to the side to keep it out of my face. The weight of my backpack finally jolted me to the present, reminding me of the schedule I promised to keep.

It was six-thirty. I had about an hour to eat my breakfast and see my family one last time.

“I made you some tea,” Mother said, setting the steaming cup next to my bowl of cereal.

“Oh, thanks.”

After several, long minutes of eating with my family in silence, I carried my empty bowl to the sink, glancing at the clock. Fifty minutes, now.

I went back to the table where the family carried on with their morning routine: Megan eating waffles, Father reading the newspaper, and Mother fiddling around on her laptop. Mother periodically looked up to shoot me strange glances, as if she was making sure I was still there. Actually, the whole family was acting odd—unnatural. It was starting to make my stomach churn.

“How’s the tea?” Father asked without looking up from the paper.

“Mine’s good,” Megan chirped, looking over at me expectantly.
 

Mother, trying to be subtle, peeked at my cup to see. She smiled, seemingly content that it was half-empty.

What was so important about the tea? What was going on? Warning bells were wailing in my head. They were telling me to run. It was like my subconscious knew exactly what was going on, even if I didn’t. All I knew was that my family was acting unusually strange today.

“The tea is fine,” I said slowly, shaking my head to let everyone know that they were freaking me out. “Well, time for me to leave.”

Mother’s head shot up. “Why? School doesn’t start for more than an hour, and it only takes ten minutes to walk.”