The next morning, I woke to the sound of whispers and a strange, tugging sensation coming from my hair, which was spread over the armrest of the lounge.

Still half asleep, I heard Ricky say, "Green?"

Aiden replied, his voice thoughtful. "I think maybe blue?"

"As long as you're certain that it's non-toxic," announced a nervy little person – Hugo, of course – "because it's never a good idea to expose the body to unknown chemical compounds – Anna might mutate and maybe get radiation poisoning."

"What?" My eyes snapped open with an unpleasant and sudden sense of dread. "Radiation? What?"

"She's awake!" announced Ricky – giggling shrilly. "Go back to sleep, Anna!" A small hand smacked my face – presumably in an attempt to put me back into snooze mode; as though I was an alarm clock.

"Do you have a burning sensation?" Hugo wanted to know. "A sense of dizziness?"

"A mounting sense of terror – " I began, sitting up, dodging away from Ricky, and then yelping when tiny particles of powder exploded in the air around me like a miniature dust storm. What had they done?

I reached back to grab my plait and everyone in the room yelled – except for Aiden, who was leaning against my bookshelf, helpless with laughter.

Ricky was the shrillest. "Don't!" he yelped, "It's not finished!"

He was too late. I brought my hands away from my hair. Fine, bright powder coated my skin, falling to the ground with every movement. I tugged my plait over my shoulder and stared at it. It was coated in a ridiculous amount of what seemed to be chalk – in graduations of navy, turquoise, and bright green.

"You smudged it!" wailed Ricky.

Hugo was standing on the other side of the room – apparently disassociated from the proceedings, but still observing, like a worried safety inspector. "Do you have a rash?" he wanted to know.

I was speechless, staring at my hands: covered with so much multi-coloured chalk-dust it looked like I'd been petrified by a unicorn.

Aiden started wheezing.

"We've dyed your hair," explained Ricky, attempting to hide his own stained hands behind his back.

I stared at him, my mouth open.

"You were supposed to wake up when I was finished," Ricky continued, accusingly. "And then there would be highlights, like at the hairdressers – so it's not my fault you messed up the colours – "

"Aiden," I said calmly.

Hugo spoke over me, anxiously, "We aren't liable."

"Aiden," I repeated.

"Blue's your favourite colour!" protested Ricky.

"That doesn't mean I want my hair blue!" I threw my legs over the edge of the lounge. "Aiden, I know this was your idea!"

Aiden threw his head back, still laughing, and knocked several books off my shelf.

"It washes out," said Hugo quickly.

"If you got it at the hairdressers, it'd very expensive," said Ricky. "And you were asleep – so you didn't even have to leave the house – so it's like takeaway hairdressing – so it should be more expensive, really. Also, I used up almost all my chalk pastels. So I think you should maybe get a fee for that ..."

"But because she's your sister, she'll get mates rates right?" interjected Aiden, ignoring my murderous stare.

"Maybe," conceded Ricky. "How much should I charge her?"
"Charge me?" I sputtered.

"Oh, quite a lot, I think, Rick, you worked hard –" said Aiden seriously. "But maybe, because it was a surprise, I can cover the cost, this time. How does ... two dollars sound?"

"Two dollars?" breathed Hugo in awe.

"Three?" asked Ricky immediately – pushing his luck, because he's Ricky.

"Oh, man. I don't know... that's going to eat into my savings, a bit ..." said Aiden worriedly. "I might be behind on rent ... How about two twenty?"

"Two fifty, and that's my final offer." Ricky decidedly crossed his arms. The threatening effect he intended was slightly undermined by the onesie he was wearing. It was fluffy, and printed with happy dinosaurs.

I threw one of my old teddy bears at Aiden – which he neatly dodged. "You, you corrupting influence!"

Everyone ignored me. Aiden ceremoniously handed over the money. "Beautiful work, Ricky," he announced.

I stood up slowly – attempting to limit the amount of chalky fallout from my hair. "I'm having a shower," I announced, holding my dusty hands carefully in front of me. "This had better come off. We'll be having words later, Aiden. Words."

I made my way closer to the door, and him – careful step by careful step.

He was laughing again, his eyes squeezed shut. A foolish move.

As soon as I was close enough, I pounced – no doubt a terrifying figure in my Eyore nightshirt.

"Agh!" Aiden yelped, rolling away in a rapid defensive move. He was too slow. I swiped my hand across his face – leaving a wide streak of pastel dust – all the colours mixed together to make a nasty shade of lilac.

"Karma!" I announced in between cackles of – perhaps slightly mad – laughter. "Karma, karma, karma is coming for you!"

"Never!" Aiden attempted to tackle me – but I dodged out of the way and dragged both hands through his curly dark hair – filling it with so much chalk that he looked like he was going prematurely grey.

"My hair!" he howled – throwing my teddy bear back at me. It thumped into my side, but I was too breathless with laughter to care. I feel like I haven't laughed like that for –

I hear someone coming up the stairs. Wait.

It's been hours since my last entry – now it's night time: technically morning, actually. I can't sleep; instead, I'm going to write what happened after I was interrupted. There's some new faces to mull over; some Paige incidents I want to remember forever. Right now, I'm in my giant cell-block of a room, and Paige is asleep in my cupboard like an adorable – if cranky – gremlin. Actually – like a bogeyman. Paige is my personal bogeychild. Bogeygirl?

Anyway.

I've written enough about Aiden. After my retribution chalk-attack yesterday, I escaped to the bathroom and had a shower – where most of the chalk washed out, thank goodness – and Aiden ended up going home, after suffering through a long, abusive phone call from Lily – and complaining about his own pastel hair. Then, as you know, I went to the unworld base to write – to get away from Aiden, and the silliness he always stirs up in me. It makes it hard to think seriously. He's very distracting with his flashes of light and dark.

I'm seeing him again tomorrow. Lily's coming back from her vet placement, and we're planning to go out for brunch together. I'm so glad he's back. I still feel uneasy – but, now I've written everything out – it doesn't make sense. It's probably just a hangover from the Embarrassing Incident with Jake, and the fact that Aiden's always been able to read me; even better than Lily. I just hope that he continues to remain too interested in himself to look deeply at me.

I was interrupted from my journal entries by Rao coming up the stairs. I should have expected him, sooner or later. He's almost always in the library – watching the memory wall – exploring the stories contained inside the shards. He told me he still hasn't looked at all of them.

He's usually so quiet in his movements – I have the feeling that he knew I was there: that he was trying not to freak me out by suddenly appearing out of thin air. Unlike Zoe – sometimes, I swear her sole goal in life is jumping out of shadows and terrifying people. Mainly me. Rao stopped near the head of the stairs.

"They're here," he said.

I stood up and hastily tucked my journal into the waistband of my jeans. "Who?"

Rao didn't answer me – he just stepped a little closer and studied the memory wall, which had shifted a little as I wrote – so it looked less like a jumbled mass, and more like an explosion, or something unfurling. Wondering why he was so interested in it, I looked at it more closely. The way the shards were arranged made it appear as if it would be a flower when it finally opened. It might be deadly, or beautiful: there was no way to tell.

My brain suddenly clicked into gear. Today was Tuesday. Zoe had said something when she jogged out to meet me in the ruins this morning ...

"Team Asshole are here?" I asked, interested despite myself.

"You know," said Rao – ignoring me, "That the memory wall takes on different images for every Waker that stands before it. If you're feeling a particularly strong emotion, it mirrors that too."

He stepped closer to the wall, and shards rippled and shifted – into a reaching hand.

"I've seen that before," I said. "Does it always make that for you?"

Rao nodded and continued staring at the wall.

"Are you going to –" I began to turn for the door, and the enticing thought of meeting Derek Burns to know what all the fuss was about, then stopped. Rao hadn't moved – which I'd come to realise was a signal that he wanted to talk. As much as Rao ever talked.

"What?" I asked.

Rao folded his arms.

"What?"

He sighed through his nose.

"What?" I tried again, irritated.

Rao gave me a significant look.

"I have nothing to say," I said defensively.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Your mind tricks will not work on me, Rao!" I crossed my arms for emphasis. "The whole, not talking mysterious reverse psychology thing. It won't work. There is no gossip that you can extract from me. Everything. Is. Fine."

The corner of his mouth twitched, very slightly.

"Has Jake been talking to you?" I asked, suspicious.

Rao rubbed his mouth with his hand, pretending to look at the wall again.

"Not that Jake has anything to talk about." I declared. "At all. No news. There are no matters for discussion. Or public sharing. Nothing of any interest." I made sure my journal was tucked securely into the back of my pants. "But has he?" I attempted nonchalantly.

Rao adjusted his man bun.

I glared at him, suspicious. "Whose side are you on?"

Rao maintained his poker face.

"Not that there are sides. There are no sides ... this whole method of discourse is very irritating – do you know that? There's not a lot of reciprocity."

Rao just continued to fiddle with the position of one of his shard needles.

"Be that way," I said, futilely. "You will be getting no more information from me. Not that I have any information. Because nothing has happened."

"Your left ear is slightly blue," said Rao – his eyes still fixed on the wall.

My hand flew up to cover it. "Bloody Aiden! It's chalk." I attempted to scrub it off. "Not a rare disease or, or – form of leprosy, if that's what you're wondering."

"I wasn't."

"Well, good."

We stood in silence for a few moments as I continued to rub resentfully at my ear. "I'm not telling you who Aiden is."

"I know."

"Know what?"

"He's why you joined."

"Who told you that?"

Rao raised an eyebrow at me.

"Jake." I shook my head. "Honestly." Mr. Gossip. 

"He's back?"

I sighed, defeated. "Yes. Don't tell Jake he was right. But ... he might have been right. It seems Aiden was just off being ... Aiden for the last month. He wasn't kidnapped or murdered by Hierarchs. So, I'm pretty much here for no reason, now."

We both studied the wall in silence. It was shifting and rippling again.

"This unit used to be bigger," said Rao. "We had a different base. There were more people. More Partials. Another Waker."

I turned to look at him properly.

"It wasn't always this empty," he continued. "It wasn't always this ... grey." He didn't look away from the wall – his eyes were fixed on it as though it was an anchor, a lifeline. "Three years ago, the Hierarchs found our old base. Killed everyone. Left Mila for dead. Jake, Zoe and I were out on patrol. Came back – and everything was destroyed."

I opened my mouth, but there wasn't anything I could possibly say.

"It changed Jake," said Rao. "It changed all of us."

My shard buzzed against my wrist and someone clattered up the stairs.
"Anna!" yelled Paige, "I have something to show you! Where are you? Anna? Anna! Anna? Anna! ANNA!"

"Shut up!" came a bellow from the other end of the base – somehow echoing all the way along the concrete corridors. I recognised Jake's voice.

Paige emerged triumphantly at the top of the stairs, lugging a fat, suspiciously familiar book. She spun triumphantly on her toes, pointed down the stairs in the invisible Jake's direction, and shrieked: "Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon!"

I gasped, and Paige turned towards me – looking smug. I bounced forward and dramatically flourished at her, unable to control the delighted grin spreading across my face.

"A plague on thee!" I proclaimed. "Thou art too bad to curse!"

Paige dropped my anthology of Shakespeare and put her foot on it like a conqueror. "All villains that do stand by thee are pure."

Touché. I raised an eyebrow at her. "There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st," I replied.

"If I name thee," began Paige, "I'll beat thee, but I should infect my hands!"

"I would my tongue could rot them off!" I exclaimed.

Paige made a terrible face at me. "Away, thou issue of a mangy dog!"

I burst into a spontaneous round of applause. "Amazing! Paige! That was incredible!"

Paige grinned. "This is way better than the other baby shit you've given me to read –"

"Language." I interrupted.

She ignored me. "I like how it talks about spitting. And mangy dogs."

"Shakespeare's about poetry, Paige, Poetry!" I swiftly retrieved the book from under her feet and hugged it to my chest. "Existential human themes! This is advanced! Advanced reading!"

"Well, I don't know what the fuck 'wert' means but –"

"Language," I reminded her – but was unable to contain my excitement. I wanted to pick her up and spin her around. "You like it! I'm so glad you like it!"

"I like it a little," said Paige. "But I like Zoe teaching me about guns more."

"What?"

Paige looked up at Rao, who had remained very still during our Shakespearean performance. Probably in awe. "Was that supposed to be a secret?" she asked him.

He nodded.

"Guns? Zoe's teaching Paige about guns?"

Rao nodded again.

I took a deep breath. "Inappropriate!"

"Thou tedious rogue!" exclaimed Paige.

I prepared to storm past her to confront Zoe and her dubious lesson plans, but hesitated. "Your memorisation skills are very impressive," I conceded – then continued on my way.

Positive reinforcement is important for children.

^^^

Author's Note:

Hope you liked this chapter, everyone! It was fun to write. A bit more lighthearted than usual, maybe, but as they say, there's always calm before the storm (*creepy music*). 

I'm finding it really interesting to explore how Anna acts differently around different people - are you getting a bit of a sense of that? 

Anyway -  thank you as always for your lovely comments and unerring support!! I'll see you next week!  xx

(I'm hoping to finish 'Awake' in the next few weeks! We're nearing the end of Book 1!