The Awakener Read online

“Lacey Hawkins invited us over for dinner tomorrow night,” her mom announced just as Eden threw popcorn into her mouth. Startled, she clamped down on a hard kernel. It lodged into her gums. Ow…

  “That’s great,” her dad said, passing her mom the popcorn bowl.

  Losing her appetite, Eden set her popcorn aside, only to have her younger brother, Brendon, take it. After the movie ended, she ran up to her bedroom and changed into her favorite boxer shorts and t-shirt before climbing into bed with a fantasy novel in hand. There was a soft knock at the door.

  “Come in,” she called. She already knew it was her mom. Brendon was thirteen and would never knock that softly, or even knock at all.

  Beth McCarthy came into the room and sat at the end of the bed, wearing a fuzzy nightgown. One Eden was sure she’d prefer for her daughter to wear as well. Stretching her legs down into her covers, Eden knew she’d hate being twisted up in that during the night.

  She set her book aside and waited.

  “Sweetie, how are you doing? With the move and all?” her mom asked, her hazel eyes penetrating.

  Eden knew what her mom really wanted to ask. Are the kids teasing you again? Are you finding friends this time?

  When her dad’s engineering firm went bankrupt, their family downsized, leaving their home next to the Hawkins to move into a small apartment two hours south. Her dad had found work as a water treatment engineer in the naval shipyards. Eden had been ten at the time and had never given any thought to popular verses unpopular. She’d only known Micah, her best friend. Hitting a growth spurt that left her lanky, and needing glasses as well as braces, changed everything. Receiving the brunt of jokes, she turned inward, escaping in books and academics.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? You haven’t said much about your first week of school.” Her mom tilted her head to the side, her dark brown curls framing her chin. Eden wished she’d gotten some of her mom’s natural curls, but Brendon inherited that gene. Already taller than her mom and sharing the same blue-gray eyes as her dad, the only one thing she’d gotten from her mom was a wide smile.

  “It’s been great,” she lied. Since running into Micah, she’d yet to see him the rest of the week at school, though she’d seen Megan one too many times, each time receiving a fake smile. She saw Willow and Chase less frequently, but it was equally uncomfortable. Being a sophomore, her locker was upstairs, along with most of her classes, but to get to trig, she had to cross the junior hall, the longest walk of her life. The only highlight so far was her new friendship with Jessie, who was indeed her neighbor, living two doors down.

  Her mom continued to gaze at her. “Just know you can tell me anything and I mean anything, ok? I moved a lot as a kid and I know it’s tough.”

  “Ok, thanks, Mom.”

  Her mom kissed the top of her head. “Good night, sweetheart.”

  “Night, Mom.”

  She left, closing the door behind her, and Eden stared at her bulletin board, counting the number of pushpins on it. She slid off her bed and began pacing back and forth.

  I’m faking sick. There’s no way I’m going tomorrow night. I’m almost sixteen, old enough to stay home by myself.

  The ride over to the Hawkins was quiet as Eden pressed her face against the glass. So much for faking sick. Since she rarely was ill, she knew it’d look suspicious if she tried, and probably raise questions of why she wouldn’t want to see Micah.

  Surrounded by tall, arching trees, the highway was more like a tunnel of thick foliage pressing down on them. The sun was setting, dripping down from the sky like a magical paintbrush, smearing its hues across the trees. Then, as the sun sank beyond the horizon, the vibrant colors were gone, leaving the forest dark and ominous.

  Eden shifted away from the window, goose bumps crawling down her arms. She saw the Ram’s Gate sign as her dad slowed the car. This was the Hawkins’s neighborhood, her old neighborhood. Memories flooded in her mind as lights pierced through the trees’ silhouettes, the shadows of the night hiding the southern mansions tucked deep in the woods. They passed the Johnson’s, the Moody’s, the Myers—homes she knew well and had targeted with Micah for toilet papering on more than one occasion.

  As the SUV veered right, her pulse quickened. The circular drive leading to the colonial estate with white wicker furniture on an oversized porch was all too familiar.

  I cried so many times to come back here as a kid, she thought. But Micah’s not my partner in crime anymore. He’s a stranger to me. His social life’s a polar opposite to mine. Obviously handsome and popular, he was ashamed of his nerdy friend’s return.

  The car stopped and she sighed, yanking the door handle back. Guess I have no choice but to get this over with.