If I Forget You (24 page)

“I see,” Tam finally said. “You still hate me.”

“I don’t
hate
you, Tam. It’s just that you want to fix our friendship for completely selfish reasons. Can’t you see that?”

“And your reasons for refusing to forgive me aren’t selfish?”

Avery opened her mouth to say that of course she forgave her, but then she realized it would be a complete lie. She felt heat rising to her face. “I’ll find my own way home,” she said, giving Tam a death glare and walking away.

So much for repairing anything, but at least there hadn’t been any fighting over her forgetfulness. That was an improvement. Sort of.

When she turned a corner she nearly ran into a guy. The last of her drink sloshed precariously close to the rim of her glass. “Sorry,” she muttered, and turned to edge around him.

“Hey, you said you didn’t want to come!”

Looking up, she saw Kent’s gray eyes. Jordan was right. They weren’t very blue, at least not in dim lighting. In English class they looked different.

“I didn’t know this was the party you were inviting me to,” she said. “Besides, we’re under-aged, so we shouldn’t even be here.”

“Speak for yourself,” he laughed. “I’m twenty-two, remember? I don’t think they’re being very strict, anyway.” He nodded toward the bar. “How’d you get one?”

“It’s non-alcoholic.” She lifted her glass and gave him a weak smile. “I’m such a rebel.”

He laughed. “Looks like it’s almost gone. Want another one?”

“I guess so.” She narrowed her eyes, wondering if she was forgetting something important. “I don’t remember you telling me you’re twenty-two. I thought you were a sophomore.”

“Not everyone’s as gung-ho as you,” he chuckled as he took her glass. “I played around for a bit before I started school. I’ll be right back.”

She watched him head off to the bar, her drink in hand. Then she remembered that he’d been at Jordan’s over twenty-one party. How had she not made that connection before? She felt so stupid.

When Kent returned, he handed her a fresh cocktail and sipped at his own drink. “Did you come with someone?” he asked, looking around.

“No, so if you can give me a ride home, I’d appreciate it.”

He grinned. “Absolutely. I’ll try not to drink too much.”

“Perfect.” She took a sip of her drink, wincing at how tart it was. This time it tasted a little stronger, but it was good. She smiled at Kent, happy that he was here so she didn’t feel so alone. Still, she missed Jordan.

“Let’s head over there,” Kent said, nodding toward the room where the music originated.

“Sure, just a sec.”

She reached into her back pocket to text Jordan, only to see that he’d already texted her earlier.

I miss you so much. I’m at a stupid poker party my dad dragged me to. I’ll be home Monday morning. Want to talk tonight around eleven?

Grinning, she texted back that she was at a party too, and made a mental note to tell Kent she’d like to leave by ten thirty. Jordan answered right away.

Don’t mistake anyone for me and start making out with them.

Chuckling, she took a few sips of her drink and texted back
:
Oh, stop teasing me. You know I wouldn’t do that.

Did you dress up?

I’m wearing a black T-shirt. Do not be impressed.

The drink in her hand felt lighter, and she realized she’d already drunk most of it. Her head felt fuzzy. She spun around to find somewhere to put the glass.

“There you are,” Kent said, approaching her. “I thought you said you’d follow me into the other room.”

“Oh, I meant to.” She looked around, confused. “I was texting Jordan.”

Kent’s smile fell. “Jordan? You mean Jordan Meadows? Your neighbor?”

“Yeah.” She squinted. “He’s your friend, right?”

“Yes, he is.” He looked down at her drink. “You want some more?”

“Yeah, sure.” She handed him the glass and turned back to her phone to check for a reply to her last text.

I hope you have fun! Miss you lots. Talk to you tonight.

Looking forward to it.

And what the heck? She might as well type it:
I love you.

She slipped her phone into her back pocket and let out a long, happy sigh. Maybe he would think it was too much for a text. She hadn’t told him she loved him yet, not in person. But it was the truth and she wanted him to know it … unless he didn’t reply to the text. Then what? She pulled her phone back out.

I love you too, Avery.

The music sounded louder in her head, but she didn’t mind. At that moment, she didn’t mind much of anything.

21

When Avery opened her eyes, the sun was streaming through her blinds. It was warm across her bed, and she pushed back her covers to find she was wearing her T-shirt and panties instead of pajamas. That was odd.

Rolling onto her side, she looked at her dad’s picture and took a deep breath. Her head was pounding like a sledgehammer on an anvil and she couldn’t string together more than two thoughts at a time. She groaned and wrapped an arm around her middle. She was going to puke.

Stumbling out of bed, she raced to the bathroom and retched into the toilet. Random scenes from the party flashed through her mind. The Reno cocktail. The tart flavor. Laughing with Kent in the middle of a strange crowd. She’d been happy for some reason, but everything was a blur. How had she gotten home? Tam? No. They’d argued. Kent must have brought her home.

Dropping to her knees, she bent over the toilet again, her stomach roiling. More came up. Her head felt like it was going to split. Tears rolled down her face. She remembered sitting in Kent’s Jeep. She’d asked him point-blank if he’d put alcohol in her drink and he told her he had. It was a clear memory, but only a snippet. He’d helped her inside the house, but there was nothing after that, just an empty space inside her head, like so many other memories fizzling out to nothing. This one, however, seemed darker than normal, as if it had never existed at all.

Wiping away some fresh tears, she stumbled to her feet and back to bed. When she woke again a few hours later, she checked her phone to find a message from Jordan.

Have fun last night? I’m assuming you did since you didn’t answer my call. I won the pot in a poker game, so I’m thinking maybe we should go to a fancy restaurant when I get back. What do you say?

She stared at the words, her mind whirling. Poker game? She scrolled through previous texts and bits and pieces of last night came back to her. She’d told him that she loved him … and then what?

She put down her phone and rubbed her forehead. Something bad had happened, but she didn’t want to go there in her head. She couldn’t. When she opened her eyes again, she noticed something on the floor near the foot of her bed
—
a small square package. Her stomach plummeted. That couldn’t be what she thought it was. Scrambling off the bed, she scooped up the package. It was red with white lettering and ripped down the center. Empty.

Disgusted, she tossed it back onto the floor. A condom wrapper. In her room. How could she possibly forget about something like this? Had she slept with Kent? Why would she do that? Kent was only a friend now. She couldn’t possibly have slept with him and forgotten about it. Or maybe she had …

Her knees went weak, and she nearly collapsed to the floor before grabbing hold of the edge of her bed. What had she done? This was something she could never erase, even if she couldn’t remember what had happened. It was an odd sensation, one that made her skin crawl. She stared down at her arms, dread clutching her insides as she imagined Kent touching her. Everywhere.

Feeling the sudden need for a shower, she ran into the bathroom and stepped under the stream of hot water. She tried to dig into the black memory again, but with no luck. When she ran a bar of soap over her body, she winced as something stung
—
a scratch on her left thigh. Jagged, as if she’d scraped a zipper across her skin. It was bright pink and raw.

Grabbing her hair in her hands, she squeezed the sides of her head and gritted her teeth.
Remember. Remember. Remember.

She could remember everything about her father. She could remember plant names. She could remember all the details of being with Jordan. Why not this? Memories didn’t just drift away into nothing. They were there, she was sure of it. She just had to find them. She thought about the journals she’d thrown away.

“He’ll think I’m a total skank,” she told the tiled wall. “I can’t tell Jordan about this …”

Could she?

Once she was out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around herself and picked up the condom wrapper again. A shudder ran down her spine as the possibilities of what could have happened ran circles around her. If it had been opened, wouldn’t the actual used condom be lying around somewhere? She looked through the trashcan, which was mostly empty. It wasn’t in there. She searched her floor by the bed then ripped off all her blankets and sheets, shaking them out one by one. Nothing. Maybe the wrapper had stuck to her shoe at the party and she’d tracked it inside. Maybe it didn’t belong to anyone she knew at all.

Relief flooded her, but it didn’t last long. She knew she wouldn’t rest again until she figured this out.

* * *

“Are you all right?” Chloe asked from the dining table when Avery made her way into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Her stomach still didn’t feel up to much more than that.

“Yeah, I’ve got a killer headache. I need coffee.”

Chloe adjusted the reading glasses on her face and folded up the newspaper she’d been reading. “Don’t take this the wrong way, honey, but you look like you have a hangover.”

It was far more than a hangover. Avery clenched her teeth and opened the bag of coffee beans by the coffee maker. After taking a deep breath of the rich, warm aroma of the beans, she said, “Yeah, I thought I was drinking virgin cocktails last night, but some of them must’ve been the real thing. I’ve never … well, I’ve never gotten drunk before, so I’m not used to this.”

“The coffee should help,” Chloe answered. “Anything you want to talk about?”

“No, it’s fine. I won’t be drinking again anytime soon.” Avery let out a weak laugh and rolled her eyes at herself. She had to keep acting like nothing was wrong or Chloe would get suspicious.

Avery measured some coffee beans into the grinder and snapped on the lid. She pressed the lever, letting the chunky whir of blades against beans drown out everything else even though the noise made her headache fifteen times worse.

She stopped grinding and lifted the lid. The smell was even richer now
—
dark, like the black memory in her head. She grabbed a filter and put it into the coffee maker.

“Are you sure?” Chloe pressed. “You seem … oh, never mind.” She waved her hand in the air and turned back to her newspaper.

Her hand trembling, Avery cringed as she measured the coffee grinds into the filter. Chloe was far too observant. How was she going to get around this? Then she remembered Tam. “Just a fight with an old school friend I ran into,” she said as dramatically as she could. “She’s really a piece of work.”

It was then that she saw a glass container out of the corner of her eye. It was a dry mix of ginger tea. Avery knew the taste of it on her tongue even though she didn’t remember ever making a cup of it. It tasted a lot like lemons and the ginger was pleasantly sharp going down.

“You’re so beautiful.”

The words echoed in her mind, drifting up from the black memory, taunting her. Jordan had called her beautiful, but the voice she was remembering now wasn’t his.

“That sounds daunting,” Chloe laughed. “What happened?”

“Oh, it’s over now,” she answered, hoping to stop Chloe from pumping her for more information. “Seriously, I think my headache will get worse if I talk about it.” She squeezed her eyes shut.

“It’s not anything to do with Jordan?” Chloe persisted.

Avery’s voice cracked as she replied, “This has nothing to do with Jordan.”

“Oh?”

“It’s ancient history.” Her head pounded as she turned around to face Chloe. “Can we talk about this later? Please? I want coffee. That’s all I can handle right now.”

Chloe gave her a sympathetic smile over the top of her paper. “All right.”

As Avery filled up the carafe with water, she wondered how she could face Jordan now, even if he did understand her memory problem. Who in their right mind would let something like this slide? Maybe if she called Kent and simply asked him what had happened, she’d have more to work with.

Once her coffee was ready, she skipped the nutmeg and carried her mug to her room. Her hands shook as she pulled out her phone and scrolled down to Kent in her contacts list. He might laugh at her. Or he might understand.

His phone rang and rang and rang, finally clicking over to his voicemail. She left a brief message asking him what had happened last night and saying she’d found something of his in her room, then hung up and sent him a text.

I really need to talk to you. Call me?

Next, she sent Jordan a text, telling him she was excited to see him on Monday, even though she was sick to her stomach over it. She had to get through the rest of today and Sunday. Both loomed ahead of her like a stormy sea. She knew Chloe’s suspicions would only worsen.

Looking up at her dad’s picture, Avery took in a deep breath. She needed a safe place and someone who wouldn’t judge her or pry. She needed somewhere she could sort things out in her head. She thought of the hot dog food truck, of golden leaves falling to the ground, a pair of caring blue eyes.

22

“You really don’t mind me staying here?” Avery asked as she walked down the hall of Owen’s rented house. The air smelled like burnt toast and the carpet was in desperate need of a vacuum.