Read Awake for Free Online Page B

belly. His strong hands make their way around to the back of me grabbing and caressing my cold butt. I dream Wade’s magical hands warm me. His kisses travel south suddenly until I feel the shower head pulsing, set to massage.
    I want his attention, his hands, his lips, his tongue. I want to be spoiled by him, cherished, adored. This one time, in my imagination, I’ll be his beloved. I’ll be the altar he kneels to, the passion of his heart.
    The dream makes me gasp and moan. The dream releases my loneliness into the steam of the shower. All that was cold and trembling turns red hot. I cannot withstand the power of his ghost. I fall down onto the shower bench holding the shower head close.
    My whole body tenses for a moment before I let go and thoughts of my fingers in Wade’s gorgeous hair linger as I come undone.
    * * *
    I have nothing left. I have stripped away everything and just lie here in an Erin-sized dent on my couch. There’s a DVD menu playing in an endless loop on my TV. The volume has long since been turned down.
    If a person cannot change in a day, they can never change. Someone said that once. Maybe today is that day for me. Alodia and Wade and their friends at the shelter interact with everyone in our city. They feed the hungry, inspire the passionless and teach wonders to fresh minds. Vivi sings and dances for a repertory theater and Cesar is a legendary graffiti artist who apparently designs cult sneakers on the side.
    They break down the walls of the society and make everyone an equal part of their story. Their reality does not suffocate and limit them in any way. There is no judgment or competition or power game. Who the fuck are these people? They are absolutely breathtaking to me.
    If I am to forge a new nobility of spirit, the first sacrifice must be Wade. I will not see him. I will not desire him which means no more pink panties and no more thoughts of him in the shower. I could barely stand up after that shower. He weakens me. I’m done with being weak.
    My whole life is ahead of me and I want to truly experience it. I don’t want to be a critic of a single social class. I want to interact with the entire fabric of humanity with an open heart. I want to feel the heartbeat of the world.
    The phone rings and I answer it. It’s stepmother. I somehow knew it would be, but I am accepting all things without fear.
    “What came over you this morning?” she asks.
    “Reed insisted I go,” I tell her.
    “You mean Doctor Hendricks?”
    “He also insisted I call him Reed,” I say.
    “And the Donovan boy?”
    Somehow she bends those words into both a question and an insinuation. My stepmother has her own linguistic gifts. Alodia would be impressed how she can imply so much with so few words.
    “Yeah, he was there too,” I say indifferently. “Helping the less fortunate.”
    We both listen to her long pause. This is a point our conversations often arrive at, where my dear, sweet stepmother resists saying all sorts of hurtful things, but I can hear them anyway. Silence can deliver an icy message better than words ever could.
    “Well, young lady, I have to say I am pleased that your heart was in the right place today,” she says uncertainly. “Charitable works are very important to your father and me. You could help with the foundation this summer after you graduate.”
    “Perhaps,” I say.
    “That’s wonderful, Erin,” she says. “We would love to see you get involved.”
    She has cleverly changed the subject, moving the conversation to a positive place. My stepmother really is an unequaled master of duplicity, but I am not without skills of perception. I know she called to feel me out, worrying I may be up to my slutty tricks and seducing poor Wade Donovan and, if so, creating a potentially dangerous scandal between the Cassidy and Wexler families.
    “It was a lot of work, but exhausting,” I say, offering her a way to escape the conversation.
    “Oh, yes, Erin honey, I’ll let you