Remember to Forget, Revised and Expanded

by Ashley Royer

  Aiden jumps off his bed and sits beside me on the floor. I hate how I’m always crying now—I can’t seem to stop.

  “Do you wanna go see her?” Aiden asks quietly.

  I shake my head no.

  “What’s wrong then?” he asks worriedly.

  I point to myself over and over, but Aiden just looks at me with a confused expression.

  I reach for my phone and quickly type, even though my vision is blurred from all these tears. I pass him the phone, and he reads what I wrote.

  “Levi, it’s okay to feel that way,” Aiden tells me after a long pause.

  I shake my head no.

  He awkwardly puts his arm around me. “I understand. But I promise, it’s okay. It’s okay to feel that way,” he says again.

  What Aiden says makes me cry even more. I hate that I’m sitting here on an old beanbag chair, with Aiden’s arm around me, and tears streaming down my face.

  I hate that I’m feeling this way.

  I don’t like it. I don’t like any of this.

  I wish I could just remember to forget.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  DELILAH

  I wake up to my phone ringing loudly, and I sleepily reach for it with my eyes shut. I squint as I look at my phone to see Aiden’s name.

  “Hello?” I say groggily.

  “Where are you?” he asks.

  “I’m in bed?” I say.

  “Do you realize it’s a Monday? And we should’ve left for school five minutes ago?”

  I bolt upright in bed and look at the clock on my bedside table. Aiden’s right. I must have slept through my alarm. “Just leave without me,” I mumble, getting out of bed quickly. “I’ll see you at school.”

  “Wait, but I—”

  I hang up before Aiden can finish what he’s saying. Whatever it is, he can tell me at school.

  I get ready as fast as I can and text Aiden to cover for me if I’m late for first period. I somehow manage to get to school before the bell rings. Aiden is already at my locker when I get there.

  “Delilah, we need to talk,” Aiden says, leaning against the other lockers as I do my combination. He says it very seriously, which is unusual. I’m kind of nervous for what we have to talk about now. But knowing Aiden, it could just be about what the cafeteria is having for lunch today.

  “About what?” I ask him, putting some things in my bag.

  He looks around the crowded hallway. “In private.”

  “Okay?” I’m very confused about this, and why Aiden is being so weird this morning. I don’t get why we have to talk in private. I don’t see what there could be to talk about that’s so serious.

  Aiden waits for me to get all my things, and the second after I shut my locker, he starts walking through the halls. I quickly follow behind him.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask.

  “Yeah.”

  “Then what’s happening?”

  “We just need to talk.”

  Aiden is making such a big deal out of this, it’s worrying me. What if he has bad news? Millions of terrible scenarios race through my mind as we weave through the crowded halls.

  He brings me into one of the science labs, which is empty. He turns on the light, and we sit at one of the tables.

  “So what’s happening?” I ask him nervously. I bounce my leg anxiously on the stool.

  “Levi came over to my house yesterday,” he says.

  “And? Did something happen?” With Levi, it could be anything. I never know what to expect with him.

  Aiden nods. “He read your project.”

  I knew Levi had my project, so this shouldn’t be such a big surprise to me. But for some reason, it is. My heart starts racing a little after Aiden tells me.

  “What’d he think about it?” I ask quietly.

  “Well, he, uh, he cried,” Aiden says awkwardly.

  “He cried?” I honestly didn’t expect Levi to cry over it. There wasn’t anything that fantastic about it, it was just stuff he had told me and some things I’ve noticed about him.

  “Yeah, the last sentence really got to him, I guess.”

  “Wait—Aiden, what last sentence?”

  “You know, the one about you falling for him.”

  I feel my cheeks heat up, and my stomach flips. “I didn’t give him that version, Aiden. How did he get it?”

  “You emailed it to me? To proofread?”

  “This can’t be happening,” I say, putting my head in my hands.

  “What? Was there something wrong with it?”

  “Yes, there was something wrong with it!” I yell louder than I should. “That was the wrong version! That was the one I thought I deleted! I must have sent you the wrong one without realizing it. Did you really think I would turn that in for a school project? I’m not gonna confess my crush to a teacher! My real project didn’t have any of the lovey stuff. I only did that for myself, just to get it all out because I didn’t want to tell anyone!”

  I nervously bite my nails. No one was supposed to read that, especially Levi. I can’t believe I didn’t realize I sent Aiden the wrong one.

  “So what you’re saying is that you emailed me a project, which I showed Levi, which is different from the one you gave to Levi and turned in to your teacher, and now Levi knows that you liked him, which isn’t something you wanted?” Aiden says.

  “Yeah, sure, let’s go with that,” I say quickly.

  “Oh, well, this is awkward,” Aiden whispers after a long time.

  “You think? He knows I like him,” I mumble into my hands. “This is a mess.”

  I can only imagine what will happen now. Levi will ignore me again, and at this point I’ll probably never have him as a friend. He probably hates me now, if he didn’t already before. Levi doesn’t handle things very well; I doubt he’s handling the fact that I like him. He’s still getting over Delia. He definitely doesn’t want anyone, especially me, liking him.

  I hear the bell ring, and stand up, not wanting to talk about this anymore.

  “I’m going to class,” I say quietly.

  “Wait, Delilah, there’s more I have to tell you,” I hear Aiden say as I leave.

  “Just tell me later,” I say quickly, walking out the door.

  The school day lasts longer than usual, and all I think about is Levi. I’m so worried about how he reacted. Aiden and I didn’t talk about it at lunch because I didn’t want to. I think Aiden feels bad about this whole thing, but it’s not like it’s his fault. It’s my own fault for being stupid enough to send Aiden the wrong version.

  I messed everything up.

  Even at work, I can’t stop thinking about Levi.

  Then I think I see him walk in, even though I know he doesn’t have an appointment today. I do a double take, because I thought I was just imagining it. But he is in fact here.

  He shyly waves to me, which surprises me. I wave back, and he smiles a little. He crashes into a boy with purp
le hair, and I can’t help but laugh. He nervously bites his lip and walks over to me.

  He types something on his phone and passes it across the counter for me to read. He’s asking if he can see Candace.

  “I don’t think she’s with anyone right now, I’ll go check,” I tell him. As I expected, Candace is just sitting at her desk doing paperwork.

  “Hi, Delilah. What can I help you with?” she asks in her cheery tone.

  “Levi Harrison is here. He wants to know if he can see you.”

  “Sure, I don’t see why not,” she says.

  I get Levi, and he walks into the room. I wonder if he’s here to talk about my project.

  I doubt it. That would be extremely awkward if he was.

  Levi probably doesn’t even think about me like I think about him. He definitely doesn’t.

  While I’m lost in thought, the boy with purple hair comes up to the counter, anxiously tapping his hand against his leg.

  “Can you— Where’s the-the bathroom?” he says, stuttering.

  “Right down the hall,” I tell him, smiling.

  “Th-thank you,” he whispers, running in the direction of the bathroom.

  I recognize him from school; he’s new. I’ve definitely seen him before—it’d be hard to forget someone with hair that color. I don’t notice him much though, since he’s pretty quiet.

  He’s gone for a long time, and I wonder if he got lost. But he comes back, and is called in to his appointment. I find out his name is Mitchell.

  To keep my mind off Levi, I think of what Mitchell’s actual hair color might be.

  About forty-five minutes later, Levi comes out of Candace’s room. I notice that his eyes are red and his face is blotchy. He’s definitely been crying.

  “Levi, are you okay?” I whisper. There’s no one in the waiting room but us right now.

  He quickly shakes his head. He doesn’t look me in the eyes, like he always does when he’s nervous. He rubs his eyes, which makes them even redder than they already are.

  “Do you need anything?” I ask him, even though I’m not sure what he’d even need.

  He shakes his head and starts to leave. I debate making sure he’ll be all right, but I know he will. He’s Levi. He’ll be fine without me, like he’s made clear multiple times.

  For the rest of the night, Levi’s sad expression replays over and over in my mind. I can’t help but think he really might have needed me.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  LEVI

  For the past three days, I’ve barely done anything but sleep. When I’m awake, I’m just overcome with sadness and confusion. By sleeping, I don’t feel.

  I keep thinking about the past few days and all the stuff that’s happened. I feel like everything is slowly getting more confusing for me as time goes on. I feel so conflicted about what has happened in my life. I don’t know what to think about anything anymore.

  Everything is a mess.

  I check my phone for the time, and I look at the phone icon, which shows one new voice mail. Except it’s not new. It’s been there for eight months.

  I’ve never listened to it.

  The last time I saw Candace, she told me I should listen to it. She said it might make me feel better. I haven’t been able to press play. I’m scared of what it is.

  I think I’m scared of moving on too. I feel like if I listen to it, it will feel like I’m losing the last piece of Delia that I have.

  I don’t want to lose her.

  The voice mail is from the night of the incident.

  Delia didn’t actually die instantly. I just tell people that so I don’t have to think about the fact she was alive for a while after the accident.

  So I don’t have to feel so guilty.

  She called me before surgery.

  The time on the voice mail says 11:33 pm. She died at 5:04 am.

  Her contact name still has emojis after it. Her contact picture is still the same.

  It’s possibly the only thing in my life that hasn’t changed.

  One simple voice mail can hold a lot of meaning.

  I try not to think about the day of the accident too much, but now that I am, the whole day comes flooding back into my mind. I remember every detail vividly. Sometimes I think that if I don’t remember it, maybe it’s not true. Maybe it didn’t actually happen. But I know that’s impossible, and I can’t reverse time.

  It’s the one thing I wish I could forget the most, but I can’t.

  “You need to move on,” Caleb tells me.

  “I don’t want to,” I mumble.

  “Clearly, she’s moved on. She doesn’t seem fazed by the breakup at all.”

  “That makes me feel so much better,” I groan.

  “Well, it’s been two weeks . . .”

  “It’s been two weeks of an almost year-long relationship!”

  My phone vibrates, and it’s a text from Delia.

  I’m on my way to your house. I need to talk to you.

  “She’s on her way over!” I tell Caleb, jumping off the couch. “Do I look okay? I haven’t showered!”

  “You need to chill. It’s Delia. If she liked you last year, she’ll like you now.”

  “What do you think she wants to tell me? You don’t think she wants to get back together, do you?”

  Caleb shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe she just wants to tell you that you need to stop obsessing over her.”

  “I’m not obsessed.”

  “Yes, you are, actually. You’ve liked her since the day you first saw her.”

  A few minutes pass of me anxiously waiting, and Caleb continuously telling me not to get my hopes up. Delia doesn’t show up even though she lives close by. We figure she’s stuck in traffic. A half hour goes by. We hear sirens, lots of them.

  “Something bad must have happened,” Caleb says, going to look out the window. “It’s somewhere down there,” he says, pointing to his right.

  I start to get nervous. “That’s the way Delia would have come,” I say quietly.

  “It’s definitely not her, don’t worry. Whatever happened is probably keeping her from coming down the street.”

  “Right, that makes sense.” But something doesn’t feel right. Delia would have texted to tell me she’s stuck in traffic.

  Or, she would have when we were together. Now, I’m not so sure.

  Caleb goes home after an hour. I stay awake. I figure Delia decided not to come. What she had to tell me probably wasn’t that important. I fall asleep shortly after.

  I’m woken up by my mum shaking my shoulders gently.

  “Levi,” she whispers.

  “What time is it?” I murmur.

  “It’s midnight. Delia’s been in an accident.”

  It takes a few seconds for my mum’s words to sink in. At first, I think I heard her wrong. But then I remember the sirens.

  “What? Where? We need to go to the hospital, I have to see her,” I yell, getting out of bed.r />
  “She’s in surgery right now. We can go and wait, if you want.”

  “I want to. I need to see her,” I say.

  I run out of my room, not bothering to change out of my pajamas. I grab things that I know Delia would like, to make her happy when she sees me. Even though she probably doesn’t want to see me, I want to see her. All my anger and sadness over the breakup turns into nervousness in wondering what happened to her.

  The drive to the hospital feels like it takes forever. Every minute that passes feels like an hour. I nervously tap the window and watch the rain fall.

  When we get there, my mum goes up to the counter to ask where Delia is. I see Delia’s parents in the waiting room and run over to them.

  “Is she okay?” I ask the second I get there.

  “We don’t know,” her dad says. Both of them have been crying, and they look exhausted.

  “Where is she right now?” I ask.

  “She’s still in surgery. She has some head trauma and internal bleeding.”

  I’m shocked by the news; I definitely wasn’t expecting that. I thought maybe a few cuts and bruises, not something so major.

  “When will she be out?” I ask frantically.

  Her mum shrugs. “We didn’t even know she was out driving,” she chokes out.

  I’m hit with the realization that she snuck out to come see me. She was driving to see me. This is because of me.

  I don’t tell them that she was on her way to my house.

  I sit in one of the chairs, overcome with anxiety. Nobody talks much, we all just sit there. My mum tries to calm me down, but I can’t relax.

  Another hour goes by before a doctor comes out. Delia’s parents stand up abruptly.

  “Her surgery is over. There were some minor complications, but as far as we can tell she will heal well, and you have nothing to be concerned over. She is still coming out of anesthesia, but we anticipate she should be conscious soon,” the doctor tells us.