Free The Waking by Thomas Randall Page A

evaporated and, for the first time since Kara had met her, she shifted and glanced around awkwardly, unsure of herself.
    “You draw?”
    “She draws manga,” Miho said. “She’s really good.”
    “I’m not. I’m awful,” Sakura mumbled.
    Kara dropped down onto another cushion beside her. “I’m sure you’re not. I’d love to see some of your art. But I understand if you don’t want to show me today.”
    They were friends now, but they were new friends. Sakura’s art clearly meant a great deal to her, particularly since she kept it mostly secret. She only shared it with people she trusted.
    After a moment, she nodded and went to her bed, sliding out the drawer built into its wooden base. She withdrew a thick sketchbook and handed it over. Kara felt honored that Sakura would share this with her but didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.
    The three girls spent twenty minutes just flipping through pages and then looking at other drawings Sakura pulled from her drawer. To Kara’s delight, she was really talented.
    “Wow. Between this and Miho’s Noh theater stuff, I feel like I have nothing to contribute. I don’t do anything special.”
    Miho sprawled on her belly on the bed, ankles crossed, and poked her face between Kara and Sakura, hair falling across her glasses. “Don’t say that. You are a photographer. And you told me you play guitar.”
    “Yeah,” Kara said, “but you guys haven’t heard me play or seen any of my pictures.”
    “We will,” Miho promised. “And I’m sure you’re very talented.”
    “And if you’re not, we just won’t be friends with you anymore,” Sakura said.
    Kara blinked, hurt, and then Sakura laughed. Miho whacked the top of her head and Sakura turned to attack her. Despite their obvious differences in personality and style, the two girls had become like sisters. Perhaps the way their families had cast them aside had made them closer. They didn’t really have anyone but each other.
    Sakura pinned Miho in about six seconds.
    “I surrender,” Miho said, and Sakura got up, pretending to react to nonexistent cheering from a nonexistent crowd.
    “You watch too much television,” Miho told her.
    Sakura went to sit in front of the window. “You listen to too much bad music.”
    “Rock’s been dead since before I was alive,” Miho countered.
    “I’d rather have resurrected rock rot my brain than pop candy so sweet it can rot your teeth.”
    Kara watched this back and forth like a tennis match, grinning in amazement. Miho had such a quiet demeanor during school, but here in her own room, she obviously enjoyed sparring.
    “What do you think, Kara?” Sakura asked. “Rock or pop?”
    Kara shook her head. “Oh, no. You aren’t getting me in the middle of this. Besides, there are a thousand definitions for rock and pop. You’d have to play me some music to compare.”
    As Miho started for the laptop—presumably to play music— Kara held up a hand. “No, no. That wasn’t an invitation.”
    Sakura laughed. “Okay. We’ll leave you out of it, this time. But you’ll have to play your guitar for us soon.”
    “That’s a deal. Next time we’ll study at my house. There’s a lot more room there anyway.”
    Miho looked concerned. “You don’t think your father would mind?”
    “He’d be happy to have us there,” Kara said.
    Sakura sighed.
    “You don’t want to come to my house?” Kara asked.
    “It’s not that. You just said a terrible word,” Sakura said.
    Kara reviewed what she’d just said, fearing that she had somehow offended her friends. “What word?”
    Miho threw a small cushion at Sakura. “ Study . That is what we’re supposed to be doing today.”
    “Right,” Kara said. “I was doing my best to forget.”
    Reluctantly, the three girls dove into their studies. Most of their assignments for the weekend involved reading, and Kara still had math homework she had been avoiding.
    They spent a contentedly quiet hour in one another’s