Remember Me Always

by Renee Collins

  I shake my head. “Mr. Lyman said you were from New York.”

  “I moved here with my dad two years ago.”

  My eyes narrow. “If you’ve lived here two years, why didn’t Lyman know you?”

  “Because I took classes online at first. I didn’t want to be subjected to a small-town education.” He smiles. “But then I had a reason to enroll here.”

  My cheeks heat, and I can’t hold his gaze. His words seem convincing enough. But how could it be possible? Mama would never do something like that to me. Right…?

  “I need proof.”

  Auden holds out the photo strip and shakes it. “What do you call this?”

  “I don’t know.” I need fresh air. I need to sit down. I need to be by myself to think. “I don’t remember that. It might as well be a picture of two complete strangers.”

  “Because they stole this memory from you” he says, fiercely, jabbing his finger at the picture of us kissing. “You have to feel that in your heart. Before you started your so-called therapy, you knew me—mind, body, and soul.”

  His words beat in my head, but still don’t sink in. It’s as if they’re pounding on closed and barred windows. I try to grasp at them, try to make sense of it all, but there is a layer of thick glass between us. It makes me dizzy.

  “I can’t do this,” I say, turning from him.

  “Don’t leave.” There’s so much pain in his voice it makes me stop for a moment. But I steel myself and keep going.

  I only make it a few feet, however, before I nearly collide with Ana.

  “There you are,” she says, exasperated. “Didn’t you hear us calling for you?”

  “I…you were?”

  “Uh, yeah. Lyman wants to see you run the balcony scene with Cam.”

  I blink at her. I feel as if I’ve been in an alternate universe for the last few minutes. Auditions and Cam and Mr. Lyman don’t seem to belong in reality anymore. But they are reality. Auden and his…claims are what don’t belong.

  “Right,” I say, struggling to appear composed. “Sorry. I was just…” My voice trails off, abandoning the lame excuse I might have concocted if I had the mental energy.

  Ana rolls her eyes. “Whatever. Just hurry.”

  I grab a script and try to get my head screwed on right as I walk out onto the stage. Cam watches me approach with a frown.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” I say with my well-used, false brightness, but it’s barely a flicker.

  Cam shoots a look offstage, then back at me. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

  “Yeah… Sorry.”

  There’s clearly more Cam wants to say, but he hesitates, and Mr. Lyman calls out for us to start. We run the scene, but it’s nowhere near as good as it could be. Cam and I are the senior stars of the drama program. We’re practically guaranteed the lead roles. But my game is off. Why did the chemistry come so naturally between Auden and me?

  Mr. Lyman seems to sense it as well. “Shelby, why don’t you stay, and we’ll do a run with a different Romeo…” He flips through his notes and then looks up. “Act three. Scene five.”

  Cam stares at him for a beat. He glances at me before leaving the stage. It’s a look of barely contained outrage only a jilted drama kid can conjure. A single laugh bubbles up in my throat, but I swallow it the moment Mr. Lyman tells Ana to find Auden.

  He walks out onto the stage. The way he takes in every inch of me in one look makes me feel like I’m inside out. I’m exposed before him, and it makes my skin burn.

  “From the top,” Mr. Lyman calls out. “Now remember, in this scene, Romeo has been banished. He and Juliet are saying goodbye, not knowing when they will be able to see each other again.”

  Chills prickle my skin. Of all the scenes, why did Mr. Lyman have to pick this one? One so eerily parallel to the story Auden just told me in the darkness backstage. I stare at the words on the page, struggling to stay in character. But Auden draws me out of thoughts and into the moment. I can’t help but fall into the emotion of the scene. It’s strange, but exhilarating.

  In the back of my mind though, I know this scene includes a kiss. As Auden is reciting one of Romeo’s lines, I scan down the page to the part. He wouldn’t…would he? My stomach clenches, but I can’t tell if it’s with trepidation or anticipation.

  Mr. Lyman reads the Nurse’s lines from the darkened audience. “Your lady mother is coming to your chamber: The day is broke; be wary, look about.”

  My voice tremors slightly as I read Juliet’s next line. “Then, window, let day in, and let life out.”

  Auden suddenly embraces me. My breath evaporates from my lungs as his arms surround me and my body presses to his.

  “Farewell,” Auden says, his gaze latched onto mine. “Farewell. One kiss, and I’ll descend.”

  Then he gently draws my face to his.

  Chapter 8

  “An actual kiss will not be necessary, Mr. Keplar,” Mr. Lyman calls, halting the moment. I can almost hear his smirk. “Though I applaud your commitment to the scene.”

  Ana coughs out a laugh from the darkness. Auden stops, but doesn’t let me go. His gaze is on my lips. Breathless, I step back, out of his grip.

  Mr. Lyman claps his hands once. “Actually, I think I’ve seen all I need to see. Thank you both. You were fantastic.”

  I take another step back. Auden still doesn’t move.

  “Well, that’s a wrap,” Mr. Lyman says. “Go ahead and let everyone know, Ms. Guerrero.”

  Ana sweeps out of the auditorium, and Mr. Lyman smiles up at us.

  “Thanks again for coming out and auditioning. It was…surprising. I think we’re going to do something really special with this.”

  I can feel Auden’s eyes on me.

  “I’ll have a cast list posted soon,” Mr. Lyman says. “Hopefully tomorrow.”

  I muster the best smile I can and move toward the steps. “Thanks, Mr. Lyman.”

  Grabbing my bag, I speed walk up the aisle of the auditorium and burst through the doors. Just get out of here. Get to your car. Breathe.

  Out in the hallway, the rest of the actors gather up their bags, chatting with each other, no doubt agonizing over a line they flubbed or a moment when their voice cracked. We drama kids are pretty notorious for being overanalyzers. There’s a reason the phrase “drama queen” exists.

  I weave my way past them. I need to get out of school, and I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before Auden turns up. I want to avoid Cam too. I don’t need any more complications right now.

  Outside, the crisp Colorado fall air fills my lungs, burning slightly in my nostrils. My eyes close involuntarily for a moment. I need answers, but I also long for peace of mind. It’s been forever since I’ve felt that. I almost forget what it’s like.

  “I’m sorry.” His low voice sounds behind me, sending a jolt of energy through my spine. The effect he has on me is very annoying. I walk for my car without turning back.

  “You keep apologizing, yet you keep pulling stunts like whatever that was in there.”

  “What do you mean?” Auden asks.

  I snap a glance over my shoulder. “The audition? Trying to kiss me?”

  “It’s in the script,” he insists, coming up beside me. “I was in character.”

  There’s a poorly hidden smile on his lips. I scoff and try to move faster, but he cuts me off, walking backwards in front of me.

  “I promise I won’t do it again. Until you want me to.”

  I roll my eyes. “Wow.”

  We’ve reached my car. I pull out my keys. “I should get home.”

  “Wait.” Auden presses himself in front of my car door.

  “Why do you keep blocking my path?”

  “Why do you keep running away from me?”

  “Like I hav
e to explain? I don’t know you—”

  “But you—”

  “I know. I did. Whatever. Even if that’s true, I don’t know you now. You’re just some…really tall guy with intense eyes following me around and telling me that we used to date.”

  He pulls out the photo strip again. “I’m not only telling you, I’m showing you.”

  I snap the pictures from his hand and look at them again. “If this is true, why has no one mentioned you? I mean, even if most people don’t know you because you weren’t going to Orchardview High, surely some people would know who you are.”

  “They do. But they’re respecting your mother’s wishes to pretend I never existed.”

  “That’s a little extreme.”

  “Shelby. Your mother has taken the extreme measure of literally erasing me from your brain. I think it’s safe to say she isn’t a fan.”

  “Why does she hate you so much?” I fold my arms. “What did you do?”

  He gives a humorless laugh. “It’s a long story.”

  “Try me.”

  “Think about it. I came here from the evil big city, and I’m a city boy in every way. I read Kerouac. I used to wear black clothes and hipster glasses. Do I look like the kind of person your mother wants you to be with?”

  There’s no doubt that Auden isn’t the kind of guy that Mama would pick for me. I don’t know much about him, but everything I’ve seen so far seems dissonant with the standard out here. Hearing that he’s originally from New York fits perfectly. He has that kind of intellectual, cosmopolitan swagger about him. And intellectual, cosmopolitan swagger doesn’t really fly in Orchardview, Colorado.

  “Okay, but that’s a big jump from disliking your personality to wanting you erased from my brain.”

  He sighs. “It’s more than that. You mother values her control over you. I tried to set you free. Your mother wants you to wither away here in Orchardview, just like she has. I encouraged you to dream of bigger ambitions and new places.”

  His words make a knot form in my stomach. It’s a truth so clear it hurts to look at. I change the subject instead.

  “Well, what about Grace? She hasn’t said anything about you. Does she hate you too?”

  Auden’s expression darkens. “I didn’t think so. Guess I was wrong.”

  “I don’t believe she’d lie to me.”

  “With how well known your stepfather is? Think about it, Shelby. If they’d asked your friends and the few people who’d know me in the community to play along with this deception, you know people would go along with it. Fact is, the people in this town are more loyal to those they’ve known their whole lives. It’s certainly been no burden for them to play along and act like I never existed.”

  I study the three pictures of us. And once again, my mind fights to comprehend what Auden is telling me. It just doesn’t make sense. It’s impossible. It’s like the best kind of horror movie. Realistic enough to be scary but in the end…still a movie. His is also a story invented for an audience.

  When I look up, Auden’s watching me. “What are you thinking?” he asks, quietly.

  “I need more proof.”

  He presses his lips together. “All right. Can I show you something?”

  “It depends. Does that something happen to be in the back of a windowless van?”

  He gives a short laugh. “I see I’ve earned your trust.” He shakes his head. “No, it’s a place.”

  “Oh, so you do want me to get into your car. No thanks.”

  “We can take yours. You drive. It’s not far. Give me fifteen minutes of your afternoon, and if you’re still not convinced, I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”

  I narrow my eyes, but I know it’s partly an act. I don’t really think he’s dangerous, though I’ve seen enough movies to know you can’t ever be sure. As much as I don’t want to admit it, I’m curious. This guy is weirdly compelling.

  Unpredictable.

  That’s the best word to describe him. And unpredictable people don’t belong in Orchardview. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to him.

  “All right,” I say, with a shrug. I unlock my car and climb in the driver’s seat. “I can’t imagine what you could possibly show me here in town that would convince me.”

  He smiles as he slides in and pulls on the passenger-side seat belt.

  The car starts with a sputter. Auden points forward. “Take a left out here. Head for Pine Street.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  I grimace but follow his directions. Old Orchardview Main Street rolls by, and we pass the gently art deco stone bank from the 1920s. A cafe. A bike store. An older couple strolls the street, hand in hand. I steal a sidelong glance at Auden, and curiosity roils inside of me. What’s going on behind those dark eyes of his? What’s he planning? Should I be afraid?

  “Make a left up there,” he says.

  I pull into a half-empty parking lot with a raised brow. “The movie theater?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are we watching a matinee?”

  “No, but what I want to show you is inside.” He unbuckles his seat belt with a little smile. “See? Public place. You have nothing to worry about.”

  “Plus, I used to work here, so I’ll be surrounded by people I know.”

  Auden stays silent, but he’s still smiling.

  We cross the parking lot in silence. The clouds have covered the sky, making the air cold and damp. The neon brightness of the theater’s lobby provides a warm welcome. Immediately, the buttery smell of popcorn hits me, bringing back a wave of memories. I got my first job in this theater. Working here helped fuel my love of movies, my dreams of acting.

  It’s been a while since I stepped through these doors. I had to stop working when my course load got too heavy. Or was it because of the spring musical? Suddenly, I can’t quite put my finger on the reason. It’s like there’s a fuzzy patch where the answer is stored in my mind. Like the information has been smudged out…

  Or erased…

  I snap a look to Auden, chills tingling my skin. Is this why he wanted to bring me here? He seems to read my thoughts, and his face brightens.

  “Do you remember?”

  “No—I mean, I remember working here. Of course. But…”

  He motions toward the theaters, quickening his pace. “Over here. Hurry.”

  “First, explain what you’re trying to prove.”

  But Auden doesn’t stop. My old boss, Karen, stands at the entry podium with a scrawny new kid. From the looks of it, she’s giving him a stern lecture on proper ticket-checking protocol. Karen’s a short, boxy woman with outdated hair and a no-nonsense manner. She always took her job, and the tiny sliver of power that comes with it, very seriously.

  As we approach, a rare smile brightens her face. “Shelby. Long time no see. How was Denver?”

  “Great.” I’ve spewed out the lie so many times it’s almost convincing.

  Karen nods and then nudges her head at Auden. “Your Mama okay with you two being here?”

  “We’re not watching a movie,” Auden says, filling my silence. “I left my camera case in Theater Five. Is it okay if we duck in for a minute?”

  Karen twists her lips to the side and checks her watch. “We’ve got one running in there right now.”

  “There’re only two people in that theater,” the scrawny new kid pipes in.

  Auden gives Karen a charming smile, and she grins, shaking her head. “This guy.” She smacks his arm in a chummy way that surprises me. “Go on, then.”

  Auden grins. “Thanks, K!” He turns to me and motions me on.

  “K?” I ask under my breath as we walk. “How do you know her?”

  “I know her because I worked here for two years.” Auden opens the door to Theater Five. The sound of violin
music rushes out with a burst of air.

  I open my mouth to contradict him, but the words evaporate on my lips.

  Auden walks into the theater. I follow. At this point, I can’t stop myself. Maybe this is how the moth feels when it catches sight of the bug zapper’s blue glow.

  A beautiful young woman weeps into a handkerchief on the huge screen. I remember seeing trailers for this film. It’s a historical romance set in colonial India. It looked pretty good.

  Auden sidesteps into the back row, and I follow him, running my hand along the tops of the red velvet seats. He comes to the center of the row and sits down. The light from the screen gleams on his eyes, making them sparkle. He watches me, his shoulders moving with tight breaths. Seeing him so nervous only makes my heart beat faster.

  But I’ve come this far. I’m not turning back. Swallowing against the tightness in my throat, I sit down next to Auden.

  “Okay,” I whisper, staring forward to give the appearance of indifference. “So, what do you want to show me?”

  “This. Right here.”

  “This movie?”

  “This row. In this theater.”

  “You said you had answers. I don’t feel like playing Twenty Questions,” I say.

  Auden puts a finger to his lips, reminding me that there are people trying to watch the movie. He leans forward—uncomfortably close—and speaks in a low voice. “This is where we first met, Shelby. Right in these seats.”

  He searches my eyes as if he could find the memory behind them, lodged somewhere in my brain that I can’t reach, and retrieve it. Make me see.

  But I see nothing.

  “There was a movie playing,” he says. “Just like this. It was my first day working here. Karen sent me in to check the theater and make sure no one had snuck in. And as it turned out, someone had. One of her own employees. You. I think you were supposed to be cleaning the bathrooms or something, but you were in the back row. Right here. Watching.”