Wide Awake (5 page)

I threw up in my mouth a little bit and decided to switch gears. "Right now, I just want to focus on getting better. I can't worry about trying to remember everyone."

I thought he'd be deflated, but instead he grinned in challenge. "Oh, you'll remember me."

My dad leaned forward to…what? I didn't know, but Mason stopped him with a strong hand to his chest and nodded his head toward the door.

"I think visiting hours are just about done. Why don't you go on home and give them a few minutes." It wasn't a request.

"Listen, pal-"

"Mason will do. Or therapist if you need to get fancy."

I wanted to laugh, but didn't.

"Whatever, glorified orderly. I can see myself out, thanks."

"You do that," Mason said carefully, but hard and demanding.

Andrew looked back at me. "I'll be back tomorrow, babe, OK?" He smiled and bit the side of his lip as he leaned in to touch my chin. "I
really
missed you."

I didn't know what to say. His touch was warm and he looked so happy to see me. I hated to make him feel badly like I had been doing to my parents, so I just smiled a little. "OK."

"OK. Awesome," he whispered and grinned. He walked backward and pointed. "Tomorrow."
I nodded and when he shut the door, I immediately turned to the woman who was supposed to be my mother. "Was that really my boyfriend?"
Her eyebrows lifted. "He was," she answered, "though we...never really liked him." She smiled wryly. "You have been a cheerleader since you were seven years old, and Andy has been right there with you in football. You've been together since…" she waved her hand in the air, "I can't even remember how far back. He's just not the most honest guy. He's not the guy I would have picked for my daughter, but we tried to give you space and let you choose and make your own decisions."

I had a thought. "Am I…
Was
I shallow?"

"Shallow?" Rhett asked. "No, honey. You were just…preoccupied, as are all teenagers."
"If that guy has been my boyfriend for as long as you say…and I let him call me babykins…" Rhett and Isabella laughed, but Mason and I didn't. To me, it was anything but funny. "I just feel like… I don't know," I sighed in frustration. I did know one thing though. "Can I have a tutor?"
They both blinked. "Well…"

"I don't want to keep falling further behind," I explained. "If I'm going to be stuck here for a while, at least I can be productive while I'm doing it."

Rhett swallowed and stuck his hands into his grey suit jacket pockets. "You
want
to do school? You've always done anything and everything to get out of it. Puppy-dog eyes, lying about being sick, begging…literal begging."
I wanted to sigh. The discrepancies kept piling up against me. "I'd like to still graduate this year if we can find a way to make that happen," I amended. "I know it's a long shot, but I'd really rather not have to add another year of school on if it can be avoided."
Isabella nodded, but looked at me in disbelief.

Everyone said their goodbyes and I lay there looking at those dragonflies as they glowed softly in the dark. My chest ached with all the pressure that I felt. My life piled onto me and my breaths were almost nonexistent. I needed to find the balance. I had to.

"It's all about the balance, Emma," Adeline was saying. I hadn't seen anyone that morning. Mason had not been by, nor my parents, which was a first for me to be left to my own devices all day. But I did find a book left beside my bed. It was a worn and beaten book that had seen better days. I spent all morning pouring over it, not even knowing who'd left it there. It was a book of useless facts; things that were true, but you would never actually have an opportunity where you would benefit from knowing it. I loved it immediately. Completely useless information that couldn't be turned against you. You weren't tested on it, and it didn't make you look smarter for knowing it or not knowing it. And they were funny. I didn't know if I liked to read or not, but I was in deep with this book.

I had reluctantly set it aside, only a couple of pages in, when Adeline, the mental health therapist, paid me a visit as she promised. She started her session, overbearingly standing at the bedside. She never stopped moving her pen, and her eyes never really focused on me, and now she was coaching me on the importance of balance.

"I want balance," I insisted. "I just don't know how to do that, I guess."

"Well, I think you should whole-heartedly embrace the old you."

I jolted. "What?"

That had been the last thing I would have expected.

"Yes," she said shrilly. "Embrace it! Your parents, your friends, your bedroom, all of it. Even if it feels strange, you should just go with it. I think this is the best course of action to see about getting some of your memories back."

"Even my boyfriend?"
She smiled. "Especially him. See, he's going to be an emotional connection that's not like anyone else's. Lots of times, the ones that we love are the ones who can bring us back, so to speak."

"But what if I didn't love him?" I couldn't imagine it.

"Just try," she said wryly. "Just try to be the girl that everyone wants you to be."

I gulped at the advice. That was the absolute last thing I wanted to do, but I still found myself nodding. She said she was finished for the day and that she'd see me in a few days for another session.

I lifted the book from the table and turned to the page I had stuck a napkin in to mark my place.
A dragonfly beats its wings at thirty beats per second.
I glanced up to look at my white dragonflies.

Unfathomable.

Useless Fact Number Four

Only one third of the people that can twitch their ears

can do it one at a time.

"Either that book is evil or the ceiling is." I turned to look at Mason at the door. He was in grey sweatpants and a long-sleeve t-shirt today.

"No, just…nothing. You didn't come by this morning," I heard myself say. I held in my blush by some miracle. My mouth just seemed to say these things. Why was he obligated to come and see me? Because his eyes were hazel enough to make me forget that I was a freak show, and he never made me feel like the girl who woke up from the coma?

He looked a little taken aback. Great. Add insult to injury. "Uh…I didn't think you'd even notice. Sorry, I had a couple of other patients this morning."

"No, it's fine." I stuttered on. "I…don't know why I said that. I've just seen you every day….so..."

The smile that he fought was an elated one. Why did he seem so happy about that? I bit my lip hard so as not to smile back. "Well…I'll remember that. Let's get started. Today I want to do some exercises with you."

"Is that why you're in sweats?"

He laughed and motioned to his pants. "You don’t like my sweats?"
"They're fine," I said softly. I was having a hard time looking him in the eye today. I felt strange after the talk with Adeline. She wanted me to be the girl I used to be, the one with a boyfriend. I licked my lips nervously. I didn't even know how to act anymore. When I looked up, he was watching me curiously and silently. "So how many tattoos do you have?"

He smiled wryly at the subject change. "More than I should to keep this job. I, uh…do some tattooing on the side."

I felt my eyebrows rise. "You're a therapist slash tattoo artist?"
He chuckled in a hesitant way. "Yeah. Long story."

I wondered—did I have any tattoos that I didn't know about? I had twelve earring holes that I had found. Who knew what I'd done to myself in my teenage rebellion.

"So," he clapped and smiled, "you can sit up today. We're just going to work on your arms, all right?"

I nodded and waited for instruction. I watched as he went to the table, taking his MP3 player from his pocket. He set it up with a little square speaker and soon,
Keep Your Head Up
by Andy Grammer started playing through the room.

I knew who that was! I smiled hugely. He turned to find me that way and stopped with a slow smile. "What's that for?"

"Nothing," I told him and tried to rein in my grin. "It's just...knowing that song made me suddenly giddy."

"Understandable. It's funny how the mind chooses what it wants to remember." He let the rail down on my bed and grinned at me as he bobbed his head to the music. "Ready, little puppet?" I nodded and let him take my right arm. "All right, take this first." He put a little rubber ball in my hand. "Squeeze that in your palm in a slow, but steady rhythm. Follow the beat."

I tried to do what he said. Not only could I barely squeeze the ball in my hand, but it actually hurt to try. I hissed and gave him a look. "I know," he said sympathetically. "This part sucks. In fact, the next few weeks are going to suck, but if you want to get back to normal, you've got to push through this part. I do things a little unconventionally, but if you trust me, we'll get you back to it in no time."

I squeezed harder and pretended that the pain was what I wanted.

Next, we worked on my arms. He had me lift them straight out in front of me and hold them there. He helped me lift my arms above my head and pass the ball back and forth between my hands. Then he had me push my palm against his. That hurt worse than anything else we'd done.

I sucked air through my teeth and closed my eyes, but didn't stop pushing back. First, we were palm to palm, and then he changed it to lacing our fingers and holding our arms out straight, but bent at the elbow. He gripped my other shoulder to steady me as I pushed. I still had my eyes squeezed shut. When my arm stopped straining and began to shake and wobble, I stopped pressing and rested, surprised by how labored my breaths were.

With my hand still in his, I opened my eyes and tried to catch my breath, but lost it again to find him so close to me. He was sitting on the edge of my bed, his grip on my arm the same as before. I couldn't look away. The way he watched me was so protective; I didn't really understand it.

I licked my lips nervously and when his eyes watched the movement, I knew something was different than it had been before, but when his eyes met mine once more, I saw something else.

Regret.

He slowly pulled back and swallowed loudly, removing his fingers slowly from mine. "Tomorrow, we'll focus on the legs. We'll see how you're doing with that and where we need to work most."
I nodded and looked at my lap. I felt so self-conscious. Would the old me have jumped in his lap and kissed him? Or slapped him because I apparently…had a boyfriend? I had no idea how to react. If I were being honest, Mason was on some pedestal that I never meant to put him on.