Free Awaken by Katie Kacvinsky Page A

than I can count. I make about one hundred connections a day. I have access to millions of people. I used to think that I had friends in these numbers. But these virtual fiends are like stars stretched out in the sky. They’re out there, they exist, and I can imagine what they’re like, but we’ll never meet. We all just coexist in this vast universe with a length of space between us. For a long time I thought that could be enough for me and I’ve been programmed to believe people do better alone and apart; DS always preaches that. Distance is healthy; solitude breeds peace. But in the past few weeks, after meeting Justin, I’m reminded of how I used to feel. Of how wrong that mentality is. There’s a reason why stars can only exist in the sky – they’re just rockets of light traveling through space, so it feels right to admire their form from a distance. People, solid and living and breathing together in the same world, are not meant to be surrounded by that much darkness.

Chapter Six
    “Hurry up, Madeline!” I heard Mom yell from downstairs. I looked over at Baley, who lay sprawled on my bed, her head resting between her front paws.
    “What I wouldn’t give to be you right now,” I said to her as I dreaded the evening ahead, the annual National Education Benefit. Baley blinked back at me and wagged her tail. I took one last look in the full-length mirror. The worst part about attending the benefit was the formality of the event. Dresses show too much skin for my comfort and heels are the most painful idea of footwear ever invented. Shoes are meant to protect your feet from conditions, not make the conditions worse. My toes already felt squished. I studied myself in the mirror and tried to be optimistic. My green dress, I had to admit, fit well, and the color complemented my eyes. Mom picked out the halter-top design and it clung to my hips, flaring just slightly at my knees. I teased my hair up into a twist, following directions from an online stylist. I put makeup on for the first time in months and my eyes looked magnified, highlighted in black eyeliner and mascara. I walked down the stairs, careful not to twist my ankle in my heels. My mom gasped when she saw me.
    “Madeline!” she cried. “You look beautiful.”
    “I feel like a green bean,” I said, because it was easier to make fun of myself than take a compliment.
    She beamed and told me to turn around. “That dress fits you perfectly.”
    I ran my hands over my hips and smiled. “Thanks for picking it out.”
    “You mean you like it?” she asked hopefully.
    “I’d rather be in jeans.”
    She shook her head. “Maddie, you’re a woman,” she informed me, as if I was confused on this detail. “It’s okay to let people see that once in a while.”
    I nodded and told her she looked stunning, in an elegant black gown that fell nearly to her feet.
    My dad walked into the room in his tuxedo and I glanced at him for a moment with awe. When he wasn’t trying to conquer the education system and control my life, when he was caught in moments of just being an ordinary person, he could be breathtaking. His tall, steady presence usually commanded attention. But sometimes, when he wasn’t trying to run the world, his eyes lightened and his handsome features relaxed. He looked like a real person, even vulnerable. This only happened when he was truly happy, like tonight, in the privacy of our house as he smiled proudly at his two girls.
    We stepped outside and walked to the end of the driveway, where a private ZipLimo was waiting with a security guard at the door. My father always traveled with at least one security guard to his public events, due to all the media buzz his presence generated. When we got inside, the door buzzed closed and my dad’s phone rang.
    While he was distracted with his call, my mom wrapped her arm around my shoulder.
    “You’re going to torture Paul tonight with the way you look.”
    I rolled my eyes. “Paul is so