Memorized

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Memorized Page 11

by Alyne Roberts

My attention keeps getting drawn to Willow. I'm supposed to be studying her mind. Instead, I'm examining her lips and the way her tongue flicks over the top one. I'm watching the way her chest rises and falls with every deep breath. My mind is on the fluid movements of her body and the sound of her voice.

  When Willow disappears into the back, I wait for her to sit with me like usual. After a few more minutes, I hear the distinct sound of a violin. It's muffled and in the distance, but I know it's her. Paige is already looking at me when I stand. She nods her head toward the back of the cafe and winks.

  I ruffle her pretty hair as I pass her behind the counter. I quickly scan the back room. There are stacks of boxes, ovens blasting out heat, and trays of pastries everywhere. No Willow. The door to the back alley is propped open with an empty box and the music grows louder as I get closer. Careful not to scare her, I sneak out the open crack.

  Willow is alone in the back alley behind the building. It's dark and grimy, making her look more beautiful in contrast to the ugly around her. Her violin is propped on her shoulder and her eyes are closed as she plays. Getting her that violin was one of the best decisions I've ever made. She moves fluidly through the music.

  "Is this 'Take Me to Church'?" I ask when I recognize the song.

  Willow's eyes pop open now and she notices me for the first time. She nods the best she can, which means she pretty much uses her whole body. She takes one of my favorite songs, twists it, and slows it down. Stripped down to one instrument somehow made it sound even more powerful. She sways and moves with the melody.

  It's fascinating to watch, and for a few minutes, she's all I see. I don't see the past. I don't see a bunch of stuff I don't want to see. I don't see mistake or heartbreak. Not even stats and facts. I only see Willow. As the song comes to the powerful ending, her eyes still haven't left mine. The connection is live, like a wire coursing with electricity.

  "That was amazing," I tell her when she drops her hands from holding the violin up.

  "Thank you."

  "I remember the first time I heard that song," I say while I stalk closer to her. "It was April 8th, 2014. It was a Tuesday. It was raining." Willow takes a step backward and I take another forward. I continue, "I was walking through the student center to get to class. It was playing over the speakers."

  I now have Willow against the brick wall. I put my hand on her shoulder to feel how tense she is. Lightly running my hand down her arm, I reach her fingers and loosen the neck of the violin from her grip. I set it to the ground gently and do the same to her bow in the opposite hand.

  I lightly massage her palms and she gasps. I'm only inches from her body. Her lips are parted and her eyes are wide. I close the distance so my chest is flush against hers. I feel her everywhere we touch. She's soft, warm, and giving me a buzz.

  "What are you doing?" she asks.

  I don't answer. Instead, I run one hand up the inside of her arm. Goosebumps follow the two fingers I trail lightly over her skin. My hand curves over her shoulder just as her breathing quickens. I stare down at her eyes where the pupils are so large that the green has disappeared.

  "Landon," she whispers.

  "Willow," I tease back. My hand moves over her collarbone and wraps around the back of her neck.

  She's trapped in my hold. Pinned to the brick behind her, she hasn't made a move to break free. Her eyelids get heavy and her look is hooded. When I lick my lips, she watches the movement. I love the way she looks right now. She's in a trance, spellbound, and only looking at me. I lean forward, my stare narrowing on her pink lips.

  For the first time, I'm imagining a future. Always so busy replaying the past, I never look forward. I'm picturing my mouth covering hers. I'm imagining what she would taste like and the sound she would make when I flicked my tongue against hers. When I see her swallow hard, I see myself kissing down the soft skin of her throat. I let myself play out a scenario where we keep going. I hear her moans, see her squeezing her thighs together. She pants and arches her body into mine.

  "Landon. Don't," she breathes across my lips. "Please."

  My head is in daze. I can barely hear the words leaving my mouth over my pounding heartbeat. Landon's forehead is resting on mine. Our eyes are closed and our breaths mix together between mouths that are a millimeter apart. It would be too easy to tilt my head up and connect us. I would finally get the taste and feel that I've been thinking about obsessively.

  "Don't what?" he asks. His voice is low and raspy, almost melting me to the ground.

  Two words. A thousand answers.

  "What you're doing."

  Don't kiss me. Don't pull away. Don't make me say no to you. Don't make me hate myself. Don't make me fall for you. Don't stop touching me. Hundreds of explanations are coming to my mind.

  "What am I doing, Willow? Please, tell me what I'm doing to you right now."

  I can't answer that. I inhale deep and hold my breath. The hand on the back of my neck gently squeezes and I blow out the breath.

  "Don't kiss me. Please."

  "I don't believe you mean that."

  "I do," I choke out.

  Landon's eyes open. "I believe that you think you mean it. So I won't kiss you. Yet."

  A coldness hits my front when he quickly pulls away. I immediately miss his touch. When his hands were on me, I felt a tingle and energy. I could quickly become addicted to the way he made me feel just from his simple touch and hold. I felt safe locked against him. I lean against the wall, feeling cold.

  "I will kiss you, Willow. When I do, you will want it and you'll know it," Landon tells me, his voice low but firm.

  I swallow and slowly shake my head at him. I don't want to hear that. At my silence, Landon turns and goes back through the door, leaving me a mess in the alley. I'm trembling with nerves and excitement. I bend over and pick up my violin to pack it back up. This break was supposed to be an opportunity to calm myself down and think. It’s had the exact opposite effect instead.

  My hands are unsteady as I lock my case. I am sure my face is red without needing to look in a mirror. My skin is warm and I feel like an electrical charge is coursing through my body. Every memory of Noah has been hot, but never affecting me like something that almost happened with Landon.

  Paige is going to kill me. What was supposed to be a quick break has turned into a disappearing act. I slip back into the kitchen and grab a bottle of water before I need to go back behind the counter. I feel too buzzed to act normal. It's disturbing the effect that he has on me.

  When I come back out, Landon is back at his table and Paige is grinning at me.

  "Sorry," I apologize.

  "Don't worry about it," she says with a dramatic wave of her hand. "You wouldn't believe what just happened."

  Landon almost kissed me and I'm pretty sure that I wanted it even though I shouldn't, right?

  "Landon asked me to go to the benefit your boyfriend is hosting," she whispers loudly.

  My jaw unhinges and hits the floor. I stare at her, unblinking. "Huh?"

  "Yeah. He had a plus one and asked if I wanted to join him. It's going to be so fun."

  "Is it?" I ask. Can she convince me it will be a blast to watch her arrive on Landon's arm?

  "Of course! I get to hang out with you outside of this place," she says, evidently exhausted with my dumbness. Shock will do that to a person.

  "Of course," I agree weakly. She does have a point. I will have at least one friend there. Maybe Paige attending with Landon will have Noah rethinking his suspicion.

  I feel sick to my stomach as I mix caramel in to make a Horny Red-Head. I wish I would have thought of that one. I'm a terrible person. I have an amazing boyfriend who supports me in every way. Noah stuck by me for weeks while I was dead to the world. He held my hand while I stared at him in fear.

  Noah is my only connection to the past I'm missing. He's all I have. Without Noah, I'm alone, homeless, and clueless. I already started my life over once, twice if you count moving to Atl
anta in the first place. I can't give that up to start over again. I'm balancing on a dangerous line if I kiss Landon.

  "Here you go, sir," I announce as I hand the coffee to a customer.

  "Willow? Willow Thorne?" he asks.

  "Um, yes," I stutter. I'm drawing a blank here. I have no idea who he is.

  "How have you been?" he asks, leaning on the counter like he's eager to hear the answer.

  "I've been good," I say. My palms are sweating and the signs of a panic attack are creeping up on me.

  I don't know what to say or how to act. I feel exposed, like a deep and dark secret is on the verge of being revealed. I study the man in front of me, praying to come up with something to tell me who he is.

  "Good! We should get coffee sometime again," he says with an easy smile.

  "I just gave you coffee," I respond dumbly.

  Hidden in a secluded corner, he sits across from me while I clench my coffee cup. The cafe is upscale and busy enough that we go unnoticed. We need to remain unseen. His eyes are on me intently. He's urging me to go on, to keep talking.

  "Excuse me, miss?" The angry voice breaks through my haze. I look up into Landon's annoyed face. "This is cold and nasty."

  He thrusts his cup back at me and I want to toss it in his handsome face. Who the hell does he think he is demanding fresh, free coffee and kisses? I feel my chest rumble with a muted growl. I glance back at the nameless man.

  "You'll have to excuse me. We get rude customers every day," I explain. I grab Landon's cup and make him a new drink.

  In my anger, I'm slamming things and mumbling under my breath. Paige comes to help but flees when I smash the button on the grinder with all my strength. Landon can't keep interrupting my life. He barges in, demands to pick apart my brain, reads my journal, and then proceeds to try to kiss me, knowing I have a boyfriend.

  When I turn around, Landon is the only person at the counter. A quick scan of the cafe confirms my blast from my past bailed. I probably scared him off with my snarling and baring teeth.

  "What the hell was that?" I hiss at Landon when I slam his fresh cup in front of him.

  "You're welcome."

  I laugh. His arrogance has no bounds. "I'm not thanking you."

  "You should be because I just saved you from a very awkward situation," he says with a cocky smirk.

  "You think you saved me?"

  "Did you know who he was? A name? An explanation for where you've been for the past few months?"

  I grit my teeth and clench my fists. "No, but I did remember him."

  "Who was he?" he asks with his head tilting to the side.

  "Some guy I had coffee with somewhere for some reason." I place my hands on my hips and glare at him like that should be explanation enough. It's not and we both know it. It's just another blurry clue to add to the rest.

  Landon slides my journal over the counter and I swipe it away. Paige waves as I head to the back and scribble down all I can. I make it quick since I’ve already slacked off enough for one day. It's a wonder that I still have a job really. When I close the journal, I find Paige leaning in the doorway.

  "You okay?"

  "Sure," I say with a convincing smile.

  "I can't imagine what that's like," she whispers. Paige has never assaulted me with questions like I expected her to. I love her for it. She's the only person who treats me like I'm normal.

  "Like you wake up with a hangover and find out you blacked out while drunk, gave lap dances, puked everywhere, and acted like a fool."

  Paige grunts and smiles. "I hate when that happens."

  I finish the rest of my shift without too much excitement. I ignore Landon the best I can but I feel his stare on me all day. It's comforting and unnerving all at once. Landon leaves without saying goodbye. It's hurts a little but I remind myself I just pushed him away. Staying busy is the trick to keeping my mind from wandering. After cleaning above and beyond my regular duties, stocking the ingredients, and organizing the fridge, I finally head home on sore feet.

  All I want is a warm bath and a glass of wine. Today was full of too many surprises and too much excitement. Even in the daylight, I feel paranoid on the way home. I can't shake the feeling of being watched when I'm alone. I'm constantly looking around and behind me. Is that car following me? Didn't I see that guy a few blocks back? Why is that lady looking at me? Only when I'm behind my locked doors do I breathe deeply in relief.

  I toss my gym bag on the floor after my workout. I'm covered in sweat and every muscle hurts. The past week has consisted of more boxing than usual. Willow and I are operating like nothing has happened after the near kiss in the alley. She has answered all my questions and I've been collecting my data. The journal entries keep coming as her memory starts to fill in.

  Little pieces here and there come back to her. She's still unable to weave a complete picture of her past, and she's growing more and more restless. Every flashback is just a small piece to a bigger puzzle. Not a single memory of the attack has made an appearance. Meanwhile, I have been able to form a solid hypothesis from her progress.

  Based on what is still missing, I believe any event or detail linked to the attack is still locked away. Whatever happened to her is more than a random attack. Without any more information, neither of us can guess the connection. I have my own theories but nothing to back them up yet.

  "Hey, man," I greet Aaron as I head to shower.

  "Hey," he mumbles. He's bent over Willow's laptop like he was when I left hours ago.

  "Find out anything?" I ask. He's been obsessed with digging around in Willow's digital life. It's a shame that he had no desire to go to school and make a career out of his computer skills.

  Aaron sighs and leans back on the couch while he rubs his face roughly. "Nothing good. Found transcripts and grades. She wasn't doing too hot in school. Lots of chatting with friends. I can probably timeline her parties, lunches, and vacations."

  I come to stand behind him. He already has started to fill in a calendar with her plans. Even if we could fill in everything she's done in the last few years, would it help? I doubt she scheduled in a beating and trip to the hospital.

  "I did notice an interesting pattern, though," Aaron starts. "The last six months or so, Willow started to pull away from her friends. She spent less time with the girls and partied less, too."

  "Do you think it was because she was planning the wedding?" I ask when I notice the appointments to meet with dress designers and visit venues.

  "Most girls would want their girlfriends involved in that kind of stuff. I'm not sure what it was. Everything looked normal up until I noticed that."

  "She was on antidepressants," I reminded him. With depression, a person would withdraw from friends and family. They would lose motivation to socialize. But it might not mean anything. There isn't always a reason for one to become depressed. It's simply a chemical imbalance in the brain some times.

  Aaron nods like he agrees. "Why haven't any of these friends reached out to her?"

  "They probably know she won't know who they are." I rub my hand across my jaw, feeling the stubble. Most of her friends are connected to Noah as well. I would think he let people know when she was attacked. They could be keeping their distance so they won’t upset her. It's amazing not one of her many friends thought she might need someone to talk to, though.

  "Something isn't right," Aaron says. "Keep an eye on her."

  "I do. I gotta get ready."

  He doesn't need to know how closely I keep an eye on her. I watch her all day while she works. Willow has become my favorite distraction. The stubborn woman also insists on walking home alone. The city is full of people she doesn't know and wouldn't recognize. I'm ashamed to admit that I've been following her home as well. When I see she's inside her building safe, I can finally head home.

  I go through the motions of getting showered and cleaned up. When I'm performing mindless tasks, my brain gets hyper. Visions flash in front of my eyes, unable to be
turned off. Willow features in most of them as of late. While I'm shaving, I remember her body's reaction in the alley. I know she wanted me as badly as I did her. It's her fear keeping her from giving in.

  People fear the unknown. It's the lack of control and the element of surprise that holds us back when we don't know the outcome. Fear is an automatic response to danger. The emotion most closely related to fear is interest. Half of the brain wants to investigate and the other half wants to flee. Willow is scared of what will happen if I kiss her. I know the other half of her brain wants to know the outcome.

  I hear a knock at the door and muffled voices from the living room. I wipe the hair gel off my hands and walk over to my bed where the black tux is waiting. I'm dreading this event but can't seem to talk myself out of it. I know Dr. Mason will expect me there since this charade is for the program I've been in since my early teens. I also want to see Willow.

  I get dressed quickly and step out of my room. Paige and Aaron are talking in the kitchen. I wanted to pick Paige up tonight, but she insisted on meeting me here. She said it felt less like a date if we met up. She looks beautiful in a gold dress that comes down to her knees and sparkles weave around her body in a lazy and twisting trail. Her dark hair is pulled up and her makeup is bold but perfect.

  "You look amazing," I tell her as I approach.

  She smiles. "You do too. You ready for this thing?"

  "I guess so. Let’s get going," I say as I offer her my elbow.

  I wink at Aaron as we walk out. I'm aware that Willow thinks I invited Paige as my date and I'm okay with that. Paige and I both know that it's not. When I asked Paige to be my plus one, I explained that I thought we should be there for Willow. Being one of the only people who knows her condition, I thought Willow would be glad that Paige was by her side.

  "This should be interesting," Paige says once we are in the car.

  "I'm sure it will be," I agree as I pull into traffic and head downtown.

  We pull up to the venue where a large banner announces tonight's event. I hand the keys to the valet and Paige takes my hand so I can escort her inside. The lobby has photographs of the hospital and signs with information. The lighting is low and soft music plays. Everything is elegant and tasteful.

 

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