Memorized

by Alyne Roberts

  I stand and hand her the bow. "Play. You loved to play once, right?"

  "I don't think I'm that girl anymore," she says and places the violin back in the case.

  "Maybe she's the girl you need to be looking for," I challenge as I grab her small hands and place them back in the case.

  I watch as her shoulders pull back and she inhales deeply. Her expression is determined and fierce as she pulls out the violin and rests her jaw on the chin rest. There's a light inside that is growing brighter as she steps back into her old self. Her grip is strong as her arm rises to place the bow on the strings. When her eyelids flutter close, the music starts.

  It's a beautiful and haunting melody. Knowing nothing about classical music, I have no idea what it is, but I'm captivated anyway. Willow moves gracefully with the music, her fingers moving over the fingerboard with ease. She seems cut off from the world around her as the few bar patrons stop to watch. She looks natural and completely at peace while she plays; her body gently sways with the melody.

  When the song comes to end, Willow blinks back at me like she just realized where she was. "Thank you," she says.

  "That was beautiful," I tell her as she packs the violin back up gently. "You're really talented." Her cheeks flush pink, so she looks down. "Want to get a drink?"

  She nods and I head over to Aaron, who is grinning at me. I know he's going to ask a million questions, but it's unavoidable.

  "That's her?" my brother asks when I reach him.

  "Yep. Stop looking at her like she's your next meal."

  Aaron raises his hands in defense and hands me two beers. When I turn, Willow is already behind me, violin case at her side. She looks so natural holding it, and for once, she looks like she knows what she's doing. She brushes past me and I hear her sharp intake of breath when her chest touches mine.

  "This is my brother, Aaron," I tell her, motioning to him. "Aaron, this is Willow."

  "Nice to meet you," Aaron says with a flirtatious smile. I glare at him.

  "You too. I think shots are in order," Willow tells me as she climbs on a stool, taking the beer I was offering. "Lemon drops?"

  Aaron nods and gives me a shit-eating grin before grabbing the shots and some lemons with sugar. He passes us the glasses and rests his forearms on the bar, no doubt intrigued with what will go down next. I have to admit, I'm just as interested. I knew something was bothering her when she asked me to meet her.

  Willow dips two lemons in sugar and hands me the shot glass. I doubt drinking is the best idea or that it will solve any of her problems, but I am so curious that I can't ask her to stop. We lock eyes before tipping our heads back and downing the cheap vodka. It burns down my throat and I slam the glass back down on the bar.

  "Shit," she whispers as she shakes her head like that will help heal the burn.

  Willow's eyes are on me as she places a sugar-coated lemon in her mouth. I watch while her lips wrap around it as she offers me the other one. I open and she places in on my tongue with dilated pupils. She pulls out her peel, licking the remaining sweet and sour juices from her lips. I want to lean over and do it for her.

  "I was engaged," she tells me, and it feels like a punch in my gut. Her voice is solemn, unlike how one would normally sound making that kind of announcement. "He never told me. I remembered it on my own."

  "Did he tell you why he hid it from you?" I ask.

  "No. I didn't ask."

  "Why not?" A million questions arise at once, but I stick with the obvious first. Why didn't he tell her? Why would he hide it? Why didn't she demand to know these answers? What is her subconscious telling her in the form of puzzles?

  "I don't know. I don't know if I even want to know."

  Carrying a violin again feels so right. I lug the heavy case across the university’s campus. Being it’s summer break, the grounds are pretty much deserted. I probably look a fool sitting outside the music hall on the steps, violin at my side. The sweltering heat has most sane people indoors unless absolutely unavoidable. Not me. I can feel my shoulders burning in the sun.

  I spent the morning walking the grounds with my violin in hand, hoping to recall my earlier days in college. After covering every path and building, my head is throbbing and I am exhausted. I remembered where most of my classes were and even certain faces of professors or friends. Overall, it was a productive day. I feel a little more whole than when I began.

  I stand and grab my case, ready to get back to air conditioning and a cold drink. As I hustle down the sidewalk, my muscles tense and my vision blurs as I'm assaulted with another flashback.

  I run out the doors. I just know I'm going to be late for music theory and I hate the look Professor Dunford will give me. The fall wind blows and leaves rustle across the grass. My long, red hair covers my face and I try to quickly wipe it away. Balancing my case and an armful of books proves to be difficult, because when I lift my hand, everything falls to the ground.

  Pages blow around the sidewalk and I curse as I rush to get them before the wind takes hold of them again. I’m reaching for the last of my sheet music when I see a hand holding it for me. I grab the paper and raise my eyes to thank the passing stranger. When I see the beautiful face and inviting smile, I’m speechless.

  "These yours?" he asks. I nod because my tongue doesn’t know how to work around good-looking boys yet. He’s wearing a button up shirt, rolled up to his elbows, and dark jeans. I pale in comparison, wearing an old hoodie with torn skinny jeans.

  I shove my papers back into a pile as he stands, extending a hand for me to take. When I put my hand in his, I feel the sparks light up my skin. My entire body charges with a current of electricity. I finally see my helpful stranger standing and complete in his glory. He's tall with light brown hair and golden eyes. He’s absolutely gorgeous and I have no idea why he’s even talking to someone like me. His hand is warm as he pulls mine in, bringing me closer to him.

  "What's your name, sweetheart?" he asks with a smile. His smile could easily light up all of Atlanta.

  "Willow."

  "Beautiful name. Perfect for you." I feel my cheeks blush and I am sure I look like a tomato. He’s still holding my hand.

  "Thank you."

  "I'm Noah."

  Reality smashes back into me. I blink away the visions and inhale deeply. I look up into the sky and smile at the sunshine beating down on my face. After all day walking in the heat, I’m rewarded with exactly what I was looking for. Something of importance. The first time I met Noah was just the beginning. The beginning is the best place to start.

  With a renewed sense of hope, I hop onto a bus and ride it back to the apartment. I wave to random people in the lobby and I rush to the elevators. A quick shower and a small snack is all I have time before I need to head to work. I apply lotion to my sun-kissed face and rush back out the door.

  I immediately see Landon's wide shoulders at his usual table when I breeze through the door. His body looks so hard and strong. I wonder if he’d feel like a rock under my hands. I wave to Paige and grab my apron from the back. She’ll be teaching how to close the cafe today. I’ve never worked a night shift before so I need to learn the ropes of closing shop since it’s not quite like the morning and afternoon tasks I’m used to.

  "He's always watching you," Paige whispers to me as we clean out the pastry case.

  "Who?" I ask, glancing up to make eye contact with Landon. Paige gives me a look that says I didn't play off acting dumb as well as I thought I did.

  "You know who," she hisses. "He usually keeps to himself, except when it comes to you. Trust me, I know. He's in here every single day."

  "We're friends," I say with a shrug.

  "Bullshit. I think he likes you."

  My mouth drops open to argue, but she stands to grab a customer before I have a chance. My stomach is fluttering with excitement and my palms feel a little sweaty. Knowing he is watching me right now makes me nervous and aware of every move I make. Landon couldn't like me. He's j
ust interested in my messed up head. I'm a puzzle to him. A story to study and learn from.

  My rationalizing thoughts kind of bum me out. I concentrate on scrubbing at an invisible spot on the glass as I worry my lip. My thoughts as of late have wandered to him too often. Even as I was desperately trying to remember Noah and why I fell in love with him, I was thinking about Landon and how the violin was the best gift anyone could have possibly given me. I would simultaneously try to sort out my feelings for him, as well as my feelings for Noah.

  "I think it's clean," a deep voice says. Landon.

  "Hey," I say as I rise. "How are you?"

  "Good. You? You're all red," he says, his brows creasing with worry.

  "I was out walking all day. I guess I got too much sun."

  "You went alone?"

  "Yeah, why?"

  "You could have called. I would have joined you. You don't have to do it all on your own," he tells me quietly. His accent gets thick when his voice is low. My stomach muscles tense with the sound. He would have an amazing bedroom voice.

  "Thank you."

  "You're here late today? When are you off?" he asks, stepping aside so a customer can grab their order. I see Paige watching and trying to listen. She thinks she's being sneaky about it, but she's really not. There's nothing subtle about Paige.

  "I close. They think I should know how in case I ever need to." I really don't care what shift I get, as long as I have something to do. I only preferred the mornings because Landon is usually here and I get to work with Paige, who is quickly becoming my best friend.

  "Okay. I need to get going. Will you do me a favor? Take a cab home. Don't walk home in the dark."

  I nod and laugh lightly, enjoying his protective side. With Landon, I don't feel useless and codependent like I feel when Noah coddles me. I feel like I matter and my well-being is important. Mostly, I don't feel so lonely.

  "Yes, sir," I say with a salute. "I'll see you tomorrow."

  Landon waves and I watch as he walks out the door. Realizing I just spent too much time socializing, I turn to get to work. I almost slam right into a grinning Paige because she's hovering so close. Her arms are crossed over her chest as she widens her grin.

  "Just friends, my ass," she teases.

  "It's true," I argue, moving around her and hoping to lose her in the back. No such luck. There's nowhere to hide.

  "You should have called me," she mocks in a deep voice. "I wanted to walk with you and hold your hand and kiss you."

  I laugh and toss the wet rag at her stupid, smiling face. "What are you? Five?"

  "You're just too easy to get worked up," she says. "Come on, I'll show you how to prep for the morning crew."

  I follow Paige around for the rest of the night. The cafe gets pretty slow in the evening, other than a few people popping in for a quick fix. I'm promised that when school is back in session, the traffic will pick up. I learn how to stock the cases, clean the machines, and setup for when the place opens.

  After locking up the shop, we mop the floors and put the chairs up on the tables. Paige takes the trash out to the back and then we are done for the night. When I step outside, the night air is muggy after the hot day. I can still feel the sun’s heat coming off the sidewalk.

  "See you tomorrow," Paige calls as she heads to the bus stop across the street.

  "See ya," I call back.

  I walk about a block and start to consider just walking the rest of the way home. The night is too nice to sit inside. I look up to the clear sky and frown. Back home, the sky would be covered in stars. Even with overcast, the stars were bright enough to look up at. In the city, the lights pollute the sky and dim the stars above.

  I step around a group of people smoking outside of a nightclub. The loud music spills outside as I pass. A light breeze blows and tickles across the back of my neck. I shiver from the contrast on my face, still hot from the sunburn. The shiver runs down my spine and my hairs stand on end, feeling uneasy. I stop in my tracks, glancing around me.

  Everyone is going about their business, paying no attention to me. I feel eyes on me and a general want to flee hits me. Turning my head from side to side, I don't see anyone even looking at me, but that doesn't make me feel any better. I hurry forward when I see the bus stop only a few dozen feet ahead. Walking home is no longer an option. As I speed-walk, I keep looking behind me to see if someone is following.

  As I near the bus stop, I reach into my bag and palm my phone. Being out in public on a busy street should be relatively safe, and yet I feel anything but. My hands are trembling and I hurry my stride to meet the bus just as it pulls up. The bright lighting makes me exhale with relief.

  By the time I get off at my stop, I no longer feel as paranoid, but I'm desperate to get home. I cross the street and rush into the lobby. It isn't until I'm in my apartment with the doors locked that I truly breathe easy. For every step forward, I take one step back. Just when I gain more control by seeing a new glimpse into the past and I start to feel optimistic, I am knocked back down with the anxiety and paranoia.

  I'm not sure where Aaron picked up this newfound need to learn to cook. The apartment has a permanent stench of burnt food. This morning, his victim is waffles. I'm not even sure where he got the waffle iron, but it doesn't look like it will ever work again.

  "Granola bar?" I ask while grabbing the box and tossing one to him. I know he wants it.

  "Thanks. Sorry," he says as he tears open the wrapper. "I really thought that would be easy."

  "Breakfast is the most difficult of meals to master."

  "Really?"

  "No idea," I admit. "You gotta spray some air freshener and open a window. Willow is gonna come by today."

  "Is she? Why is that?" he practically sings. He morphs into a teenage girl ready to gossip whenever Willow becomes a topic of conversation.

  "Yes, she is. You're supposed to help us get into her Facebook account, remember?"

  "Oh, yeah. How's the research been going?" he asks over his shoulder. He trying to scrub the waffle maker, but it doesn't seem to be doing any good. I'm pretty sure any kitchen appliance shouldn't be fully immersed in water.

  Willow and I have been meeting when she gets off work each day. The coffee shop is neutral ground for both of us seeing as we are both there so much anyway. Her memory is slowly returning in little pieces. Nothing is ever enough to give her a clear picture of her life before, though. Her frustration is understandable.

  "She really has no idea what the password would be?"

  "None. She tried all she could think of. Same with the email address it's linked to."

  A knock comes at the door and I rush to beat Aaron to it. We end up slamming into each other before I yank open the door. Willow's eyes go wide when she sees us both fumbling in the doorway. Aaron might be younger, but we have been working out together since we were teens so he's just as bulky.

  "Hi," she greets us with an amused smile.

  "Hey. Come in." We step aside and she enters. "It's not as nice as your place, but this is home." I gesture around, pretty much completing the whole tour.

  "I like it," she says, eyes moving over everything in sight. She's always observing, trying to figure it all out. "Kinda perfect actually."

  She looks at ease in our place where the rent is probably cheaper than her duvet cover. Willow sits on our worn couch, curling her feet underneath her so she's comfortable and making sure her skirt covers enough. It needs to go to her ankles to cover enough that I won't stare. Her legs are pretty much on full display. Leaning over, she pulls the laptop out of her bag and sets it on the coffee table.

  "Good luck with this stupid thing," she grumbles. "I can't find a damn thing on it and I don't know any of my passwords."

  "I'll figure it out, darling." Aaron sits on the recliner and opens her laptop.

  Willow smiles and leans back into the couch. There's a lack of seating options, so I take the opposite side of the couch. Aaron clicks and types away, the sound
echoing in the silence.

  "Got it. Just had to get into your keystrokes," Aaron announces after about ten minutes. "Baretta92. Same with that other email account. Why that?"

  Willow shrugs. "I have no idea. What is it? A car?"

  "It's a gun," I tell her. "Means nothing to you?"

  "Nope, but not much makes sense to me anymore," she bites out. "Let me see."

  Aaron passes the computer over and she scoots closer to me on the couch. Our shoulders touch when she leans into me so I can see the screen. A Facebook profile is pulled up along with an email account filled with unread messages. The profile photo is Willow, smiling wide for the camera. Diamond earrings hang from her ears, her lips are full and glossed, and her hair is almost blonde.

  "You look pretty there," I say because she does. Her face is lit up with a happiness and excitement of which I have only seen few glimpses.

  Willow meets my eyes briefly and I love the pink tint in her cheeks. We scroll through her timeline. It starts about three years ago and documents some of her life. Shopping, vacations, finals, and parties. Willow had a lot of friends and tons of comments from them. Everyone is from the Atlanta area. After scrolling through the friends list, we don't find a single person from Montana.

  There are thousands of pictures. She clicks though the photo albums, occasionally pausing on a particular one a little longer. Her head tilts to the side as she tries to figure it all out. I wonder what it feels like to see yourself doing something you have no recollection of.

  "This was last New Year," she tells me. "Her name is Ashley, I think."

  It's a selfie, and in the photo, Willow's face is pressed against another girl's. They are grinning at the phone held above their heads. Willow is wearing a glittery jade dress that matches her eyes. Their faces are glowing from the drinks they have in hand. A sparkling diamond is on her left ring finger.