Finding Me (28 page)

I spun around, looking for Marcus on the dance floor. He was dancing with Jennifer. He noticed me, too, and smiled brightly. Was it really him? Or was it still the ENO parading as him? If it was, then this was the real Chris in front of me. I bit my lip, unsure about everything.
I hate my life so much right now.

Chris smirked knowingly. “Great Eight,” he said. Then rolled his eyes. He still had his hand extended toward me.

“Do you have to hold my hand to speak to me?” I snapped. I clasped my hands behind my back because they would betray me and grab his hand if they could. And now, after what happened, I needed the comfort of his touch more than anything.

“Okay,” he said, wincing from my words. “Do you think we could leave here together?”

“How do you know I was going to leave?” I crossed my arms in front of me and rolled my eyes so hard they could’ve stuck to the back of my skull. “Chris, you cannot listen in on my thoughts like that. That is an invasion of my privacy. It’s wrong, immoral. It’s–”

“Calm down, firecracker. I could tell by how you continually looked at the exit,” he said, shaking his head. “You’ve been blocking everyone since you arrived at the party. So no one’s heard anything you’ve been thinking anyway.” He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “I know it’s hard to be normal after everything that’s happened, but normalcy is possible. I also know that my behavior hasn’t helped with your transition. But I promise to help you get back to normal.”

“Normal. What’s that?” I took a deep breath. There was no use fighting it – I wanted to be alone with him. And I wanted to get away from this party, too. “What do you have in mind?”

“Trust me?” he asked with a devilish grin on his face.

“Amanda did.”
Not that I’ll ever be her.
“So I guess I should. I’m expected to anyway.”

“How does Chloe feel? Not what you’ve been told to feel.” He stepped closer to me and whispered, “I’m sorry, Chloe. I didn’t treat you like a real person.” His fingers stroked my jawline and every bone in my body turned to putty. “Can I get to know her, please?”

“I don’t really remember her much these days. I think…she’s lost…broken.” I wanted to cry, torn in so many different directions. Which direction was the real me was no longer clear anymore. I was lost just as the ENO had pointed out. How observant he was of my situation.

“Let’s see what we can do about that. I think I can fix her,” he said. His eyes were smoldering as usual. How could I deny him anything when he pierced me to the core? “These kids never change no matter what universe we’re in. We won’t be missing much.”

He extended his hand again. This time I took it without reservation. As soon as we touched and the electricity flowed, we were gone.

A few light flashes later, we arrived in a blueberry-colored room – someone’s bedroom, to be exact. A king size dark oak bed adorned the middle of the room. A large print of the New York City skyline covered the wall behind the bed. An oversized dark oak computer desk with a built-in hutch held an abundance of books, CDs, and movies, which completed the décor. Two pairs of jeans and a white tee lay on the rumpled bed, and an overflowing hamper sat next to an open window.

No more dancing kids, no more yelling, no more party. It was just the two of us.

Alone.

Chris didn’t speak, he allowed me to inspect the room. Sensing that we weren’t leaving for a while, I sat at the desk. I swiveled the cushy seat so I could face him. He plopped down on the bed in front of me.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“My room…um, here, on Earth. Can we just talk for a while, please?” I nodded.
No sudden moves
. I wasn’t even touching him and the electricity was already coursing through my veins. I bit my lower lip; the feeling swelled and ebbed repeatedly as he watched me. I sat as still as possible while he talked.

“I’ve been unfair. I’m sorry. I thought we could try to get to know one another. The right way this time.”

I took a deep breath, then released it. “Okay. How do we do that?”

“Answer a question for me.” He smiled broadly. That smile reverberated through me. Heat coursed from my head to my feet and I knew my face was probably beet red. “Do you like turkey burgers? I love them. They’re as good as beef but healthier.”

“Uh, yeah. I like them, Martha Stewart...kind of an odd question, though.”

“Well, it’s my favorite. I wanted to know if my potential girlfriend shared my affinity for them.”

“Potential girlfriend, huh?” I smiled and sat further back in the seat, a little more comfortable with our conversation. He was really trying. Hope sprung deep inside, but I pushed it back…not yet.

“I thought it was an improvement over soul mate.”

“I appreciate you trying.” It made me want him even more. I bit down on the inside of my lip again. I was certain I’d have to undergo therapy to stop the lip biting.

He pushed himself forward on the bed. Our eyes locked. I pushed myself forward in my chair. Then he moved so close to me, his minty breath caressed my face. He ran his eyes up and down my body with a sultry smirk. “You look so good tonight. Tell me. How much do you appreciate my trying?”

I smiled, realizing what would come next.

His lips.

On me.

Then the anvil crashed into my head. And I was scrambling backwards. Away from his eyes. Away from his lips. Away from my desire. And I hated myself for it.

But I couldn’t stop backpedaling.

His jaw tightened as he sat back on the bed. “Sorry,” he said.

I swallowed hard but did not move.

“I’ll try to be different. Like I’ve never held and kissed you until we felt like we were one person.” He turned his head to look out the window at the back of the room.

I didn’t follow his stare. A lump so big rose up the back of my throat, I knew if I opened my mouth, I’d choke.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make this hard for you. But I’m scared.” He turned and stared at me with pinched brows as I continued. “You don’t know me and you never really tried. Amanda…Amanda seems perfect, nothing like me. What if I never exhibit another trait of hers? What if we defeat the ENO and you realize I still can’t remember anything? Then what? Will you leave me? What happens to me? Truthfully, what I feel for you, I’ve never felt for anyone. It’s not natural and I don’t belong to you. You belong to Amanda, and I may never be her again.” The words just rushed out all at once. Like if I didn’t hurry them on, they’d be lost forever. I needed him to understand. His understanding meant a tremendous amount to me. I hoped he understood.

“I get it. I don’t like it. I ache to hold you, to kiss you...” His voice rose, then fell. He ran a hand through his hair and looked down. “But I do understand.” He laughed softly. “What’s your favorite color?”

I smiled. I liked this. “Red. What’s yours?”

“Blue.” He motioned with his hands to the blue things in his room, like his bedspread, curtains and walls, and his New York skyline. “What’s your favorite season?”

“Spring because it’s the most beautiful time in New York…so much color and vibrancy.”

“I love winter, the snow-covered streets, my favorite holidays, a big break from school,” he said, a faraway look in his eyes.

We talked for an extensive amount of time. We learned a great deal about one another. Though it was hard for me – and I was certain it was hard for him – we didn’t kiss or hold each other at all.

Chris decided we should go back to Casey’s party since it was only eleven-thirty and we were sure it wouldn’t be over yet.

He seized my hand. A light flashed, illuminated us, and then we regenerated back at the party, as if we’d never left. Chris released my hand immediately upon arrival. “Don’t want to make your friends think you’re interested in McFlirty. But I should warn you. Regardless of what’s happening now, I’ll always see you as mine. So I can’t be held responsible for what I do to Marcus if he comes too close again.”

“It’s not like that, Chris. I–”

“Hey, CC, where have you been?” Melissa asked, walking up to us. She didn’t give me a chance to answer before she continued. “Um, Marcus hooked up with Jennifer. Are you upset?” My eyes cast down, I didn’t say anything in response. “Oh, Chris, didn’t see you there. Where’s Casey?”

“She’s in the house, sorting through her presents. I’m going in to help her. See you guys later.” He gave me an intense glare before turning and walking to the house.

“What was that about?” Melissa asked. She eyed me with a raised brow and a suspicious smirk.

“Nothing. Chris is a great guy. Casey doesn’t deserve him, that’s for sure.” I shuffled off toward the buffet table, ending the conversation about him before it started. As hungry as I was, I knew I wouldn’t be able to eat much of anything.

I drowned in miserable doubt and despair because I made the guy I was in love with unhappy. I guess it was true. I was in love with him and I realized it for sure once we were broken up.
How absurd.

In my dream that night, I was a warrior. Doing battle and not backing down from my enemy. Only problem: I couldn’t see my enemy. Positioned and ready to fight, my enemy continually eluded me. Finally tiring, I raced to him and spun him around. “You will face me so we can get this over with,” I yelled.

Cloaked in black from head to toe, he resembled a ninja. However, there was no stealth to him. Only fear. He knew I was there to kill him. He wore a large metal helmet; a ski mask underneath covered his face. I positioned my M16 at his head and used it to push the helmet off. Then I snatched the mask from his head.

Gasping, I took a step back but kept the gun steady.

My enemy had my face.

“How did you get my face?” I screamed. She didn’t answer. Her eyes bulged and she shook with fear. “Answer the question before I put a bullet in your damn head.”

“They – they told me I had to be you. They said my name was Amanda.”

“Amanda is
my
name. Who told you to pretend to be me?”

“They did.” She motioned behind her. I turned my head slightly to peer into the darkness. There was no one there. “My friends. I swear. They told me.”

“What’s your name?”

“It’s Chloe. My name is Chloe. And I just want this to be over.”

Chapter 23

I wrestled all weekend with how I felt about Chris and how I would handle it. He tried hard to be understanding. He’d won me over with charm and persistence, but I had no right to his heart...it belonged to Amanda.
You are Amanda
, my inner voice said repeatedly. I sat up in bed, unable to sleep. The sun hadn’t even begun its ascent over the horizon.

I stretched my arms wide above my head. Fatigue plagued me, though I’d slept more than ten hours yesterday. Since I’d broken up with Chris, my body didn’t want to cooperate. And I barely ate. Sleep was good because I couldn’t obsess over him. I headed to my bathroom to take care of my morning rituals.

“Hey.” Sam’s cheerful voice echoed behind me.

I turned to find her propped up on the pillows of my bed. She was dressed in all black: jeans, tee and knee-high boots. Straight off the runway! Her super straight hair fell over her shoulders as she leaned forward. She looked energized, refreshed, as if she’d been awake for hours.

“I know it’s early, but I had to bring something to you before you left for school. Oh, and speaking of school, you kept me up all night with your murmuring. I’ll have to sleep through my first and second period classes now.” She stretched her arms above her head and yawned.

“What? I didn’t–”

“I’m kidding. Chill. Well, you did keep me awake…but it’s cool. I see your struggle. Here.” She tossed some brightly-colored papers on the bed. She peered at me with a mischievous grin. “I eavesdropped on a portion of your conversation with Chris the other night. You might find this interesting. I’ll be back later, after school. We can talk. Have a serendipitous day.” Then she vanished.

I walked back to the bed to see what she’d left. A stack of paper, folded neatly down the middle, was propped against a pillow. I unfolded the paper and found a list of questions typed on the pages. Upon closer inspection, I realized the questions were identical to the ones Chris had asked me the other night. And the answers were the same as mine. They were my answers.
Why would she take notes on our conversation and give them to me?
I flipped to the last page. At the bottom of the page was a hand-written footnote. It read: Questions for Amanda Graves, by Christopher Thomas, year 1992.

I gasped. The papers fell to the floor by the foot of the bed. These had been her answers. No wonder Chris had such a hard time distinguishing between us. We were the same in every way. I just couldn’t remember. I noticed a sealed envelope stapled to the back of the last page. I slid my finger through the back of it and quickly unfolded the pages of a letter I found inside. It was addressed to Amanda. Intrigued, I flipped the paper to see who had written it. She had – it was signed by her. My pulse raced. This was obviously meant for me. I sat on the bed and read her words:

Amanda,

If you, or more appropriately, I, am reading this, then something has gone terribly wrong with my plans. Sorry I can’t tell you what those plans are or why I was forced to do what I did because this letter might end up in the wrong hands. I have to protect certain people from the very things they want the most. My intent was to throw the ENO off so we would have more uninterrupted time to search.

I’m sorry you have to go through this process without the memory of your previous lives. I can only imagine how confusing this must be. However, if I can offer some advice, it would be for you to remain open minded and remember that everything is not always as it seems. Please utilize my friends to help with the transition process. Especially Chris and Sam, they’re the best.

I have to mention Chris. Because he’s more than the love of my life; we were created for one another. I’m positive that you’ll find him simply irresistible. He’s charming, loving, smart, and absolutely gorgeous. He’s also jealous and stubborn, but I’m certain you’ll overlook those things – especially when he gives you that crooked smile of his.