Free Awaken by Katie Kacvinsky Page B

boring.”
    She sighed at my attitude. “Give him a chance, Maddie. You barely know him.”
    “You can’t get to know him. That would require him having a personality, which he doesn’t.”
    “You shouldn’t be so critical of people. He’s smart and he’s good-looking. And he’s tall,” she added, which was one point I couldn’t argue.
    “His personality downplays his looks.”
    She watched me and lowered her voice to make sure my dad couldn’t hear us.
    “Have you heard from Justin?” she asked.
    I shook my head. “Nope, not since he stopped by,” I said with indifference as I picked a ball of fleece off my coat. I spent the first week after having coffee with Justin and his friends expectantly checking my phone, my e-mails, my profiles, my study group chat sites, only to be continually disappointed. The more sites I checked, the more profiles I logged on to, the more times I felt rejected. So, in an effort to save my pummeled self-esteem, I avoided the chatspace he normally found me on.
    I tried not to miss him, which just made me miss him more. Without him, part of me went numb. Like I wasn’t quite awake in his absence. In my mind, Justin was as temporary as the birds that passed through my life for a brief, exhilarating moment, but continued on because their survival depends on constant movement. My brain had decided to let go of my crush. Now I just had to convince my heart to follow.
    “I bet he’d love to see you tonight,” Mom said.
    “I don’t think he does formal events.”
Especially ones that support digital school,
I wanted to add.
    She admitted she told Dad about my date with Justin. I leaned back on the seat and shook my head.
    “It wasn’t a date. Would you stop trying to make this a bigger deal than it is?” It was depressing enough that Justin wasn’t interested in me. Did I have to spell it out for my mother?
    “Well, your father wasn’t happy to hear about it,” she said under her breath.
    I looked out at the dark night sky, broken up between clusters of frozen lights.
    “I think I’m old enough to start making decisions for myself,” I said.
    Our ZipLimo came to a smooth stop in front of the Stratford House, a historic hotel and conference center on the west side of Corvallis. The hotel was a spacious white mansion, with tall Doric columns framing the two-story oak doors; all of the ground-level windows were decorative stained glass. The white marble steps leading up to the doors were dressed in red carpet and roped off in gold ribbon to honor the guests. A concierge greeted us as the doors of our ZipLimo slid open.
    “Good evening, Mr. Freeman,” he said, recognizing my dad as he stepped out of the car behind the security guard. News cameras were waiting behind the gold ribbon barricade and photographers snapped pictures frantically when they recognized my dad. Reporters fired questions as we stepped onto the velvet carpet in front of the hotel. I squinted as lights flashed and blazed in our direction.
    Dad wrapped one of his arms around my mom’s waist and he locked his other arm tightly inside mine. We stood and smiled as flashes showered us in a strobe light.
    “People are rioting in New Jersey, Kevin. Do you think DS could lose its nationwide support?” one reporter yelled out.
    My dad’s calm smile never faltered. His hard eyes lost any of the childish light I saw earlier.
    “Digital school is stronger than ever,” my dad said. “The program is right and it’s working.” He emphasized the words
right
and
working,
as if his statement was a scientific fact, not an opinion, and his confidence quieted the reporter.
    Another reporter took the floor. “A study at DS Berkeley claims eighty-five percent of sixteen-year-olds want the choice of whether to attend digital school. What do you think about that, Mr. Freeman?”
    “Every child deserves a safe, free, and quality education. That is what we provide,” my dad stated. “When they are eighteen years old, or