Read Online As I Wake by Elizabeth Scott - Free Book Online

said you might not ever remember everything. That things might be a little different. That you might be a little different. But you’re still Ava. You’ll always—you’re forever my little girl.”
    “But just now you said—”
    “I know,” she says. “I’m—I’m tired, honey. I’m scared. I lie awake at night worrying about you. Wondering what it must be like to be here, with me, and to not know—” She breaks off. “Sometimes I think you must be so angry with me.”
    “Angry?”
    “You’re so—Ava, you’re so quiet now, and I—” She takes a deep breath. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I miss you yelling at me. You used to, you know, all the time, over your clothes, your hair, everything. But now you—you’re so nice to me. And I love it but I look at you and I know you don’t—you don’t remember me.”
    “I did—”
    “I know,” she says. “But one time, honey, and I—it’s something I don’t actually remember. I’ve been thinking about it all night and I just . . . it’s not there. I can’t see it.” She touches my hair with one hand, gently. “Is that what it’s like for you? Is that how—is that how everything is, you try to remember but nothing’s there?”
    “Yes,” I say, my voice cracking, shocking me, making me cringe, and she says, “Oh, Ava,” and folds her hands together like she doesn’t know what to do with them. Like she doesn’t know what to do about anything.
    “I’m sorry,” she says after a while. “I know that doesn’t make things better, but I wish it did. I wish I could. I wanted—I want you here and happy and safe.”
    “I want—” I say, and then have to stop because I don’t know what words should come after those. I don’t know what I want.
    And then Jane looks at me, so much sadness and worry—so much love—in her eyes—and I wish I could help her. I wish I could make things better for her. Be the Ava I’m supposed to be.
    But I can’t.
    I’m not her.
    It’s a relief to get to school, or at least it is until third period, when I leave study hall like Greer and Olivia and Sophy told me to and make my way to the garden.
    “There you are,” Greer says when she sees me.
    “What happened to you this morning, you wench? We totally waited for you.”
    “Late,” I say, thinking of the silent, strained breakfast Jane and I had shared, and the equally silent ride to school.
    How Jane had leaned toward me when we stopped, like she wanted to hug me and then stilled, able to tell I didn’t know what to do. That my arms weren’t opening for her.
    The look on her face when I got out of the car . . .
    It made me think of the Jane I know, that I remember.
    It made me want to open my arms but it was too late, I was out of the car and at school, swimming around in Ava’s life.
    “Well, stop it,” Greer says. “Here’s a memory I’ll fill in for you: I don’t wait. Ever. Okay?”
    “Greer,” Olivia says, elbowing her, and Greer rolls her eyes and says, “I’m kidding, Ava,” and looks at Olivia. “Thanks, Mom.”
    Olivia giggles, and then turns away when she sees me looking at her.
    She knows I see what’s in her heart. Who’s in it, and it makes her face turn deep, dark red.
    How can Greer not see this?
    “Guys, shut up,” Greer says. “Ava, don’t look, but you-know-who is coming this way.”
    “I know who,” Sophy says, her voice a singsong mockery of Greer’s, and Greer and Olivia both look at her, Greer with both eyebrows raised, Olivia merely looking startled.
    “We all know who, duh,” Greer says, rolling her eyes at Sophy, and then grins at me. “Well, don’t just stand there. Sit down and smile. But not at him! Smile at Sophy and then laugh like she’s said something funny. You’ll have to pretend hard for that one.”
    Sophy, who is sitting down on a bench next to me, looks up at me, smiles, and pats the space next to her. The tips of her ears are a mottled, angry red.
    I sit down, forcing my