“What do you have planned for today?” I ask, glancing around his living room, trying not to show my nervous anticipation at the prospect of being alone here with him. “Are we going to try and relive a memory?”
There’s a mischievous glint to his smile. “Yes. All of them.”
I raise an eyebrow, and he holds out his hand. My stomach flutters, but I let him lead me up the stairs to his bedroom.
“I can tell you’re nervous,” he says, glancing over his shoulder. “Don’t be. My intentions are strictly honorable.”
“Isn’t that what the bad guy in Pirates of the Caribbean says?”
Auden gives a look of mock confusion and then winks as he swings his door open. His room has been cleaned. As best as a teenage boy can clean, that is.
“As I mentioned, we spent a lot of time in this room. For obvious reasons, your house wasn’t our prime hangout.”
“This works,” I say, admiring his movie posters again. “Where was our usual spot? You sat on the bed, and I sat on this chair?”
Auden grins sheepishly and props his pillows against the backboard of his bed. He sits down and pats a spot beside him. “Actually, we both sat right here.”
I fold my arms. “And now you’re going to tell me I always wore my bra and underwear?”
“Another recovered memory!” Auden’s eyes widen in mock surprise.
I grab a shoe from the ground and playfully smack him. He holds up his hands to block the attack. “I’m kidding!”
When I strike again, he grabs my wrists and pulls me on top of him. I squeal, and he locks his arm around my waist, pinning me close.
“Rule number one of combat: know your enemy’s strength.”
We’re both laughing. I struggle to free myself. He is surprisingly strong, which is quite sexy, but he relents, rolling me to his side.
“Okay,” he says. “Believe it or not, I didn’t bring you here to wrestle on my bed.”
“Sure you didn’t,” I say with a smirk.
Auden bends over and fishes something out from under his bed. I recognize the box he sets on his lap immediately. It was the memory box he pulled out on our disastrous, fake first date.
“Now I know this didn’t go over well last time,” Auden says, preemptively. “But I think it’s important that you see some of it.”
I touch his arm. “I want to see it now, Auden. I want to see everything.”
He smiles and gives me a quick kiss on the cheek.
“We’ll go slow. One piece at a time. I’ll tell you the story behind each one, and we’ll see if we can’t trigger more memories.”
“Do you really think we’ll be able to? I mean…how do you bring back memories that have been erased?” I ask.
Auden considers this for a moment. “Maybe they’re not actually erased,” he says. “Maybe they’re just hidden. Maybe you just need the right trigger to help them break free?”
The thought warms my whole body with a sense of hope. “It’s worth a try.”
“Indeed.” He fishes out a small USB drive. “We’ll start with this.”
He places the drive in his computer, and his TV lights up. Crackly old music plays as a black and white title screen appears. Another classic? The title scrolls with a swell of violins.
Muse: A Modern Love Story in the French Style
Starring: Shelby Decatur
Directed by: Auden Keplar
I look to Auden in surprise, but he just smiles.
As promised, the film is told in the style of 1930s French cinema—artistic, melancholy, mostly free of dialogue. It’s all about me. In one shot, I’m sitting on my bed watching a movie. The screen zooms in on my face, slowly and tenderly capturing my awe as I watch. Another scene shows me running across an empty parking lot toward the camera.
The care that Auden took with each frame is a little overwhelming. The glowing light, the intimate yet artistic angles. The way the camera lingers on my face, adoring and celebrating me all at once. It’s like a love poem told in film. I couldn’t ask for a more beautiful gift.
Auden is with me in the final scene. We’re kissing on a blanket in a tall, grassy field. I’ve seen the pictures of us kissing, but this is something else. The sight of us entangled in one another’s arms makes my heart pound. In the final moments, we break apart and look at each other. The love we share crackles on the screen.
Auden holds out his pinkie finger, and I hook mine with his. Smiling, Auden brings it to his chest. Then the screen goes dark.
Fin.
Auden uses his remote to turn off the TV.
“Well?” He finally asks. “Did you like it?”
I nod. “What was the pinky swear?”
“It’s a little thing you and I used to do. A silent promise.”
“A promise to what?”
Auden links his pinkie with mine and holds it to his chest. “I bet you have a pretty good idea.”
I swallow hard.
He slowly runs his fingers through my hair, resting his hand on the back of my head. I close my eyes, awaiting the feel of his lips. He doesn’t disappoint.
Later, as we stand by my car in the Taco Town parking lot, I ask when we can see each other again. He doesn’t even hesitate.
“Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? I have rehearsal.”
“After that, then. I can’t go a day without seeing you.” He sets his thumb on my bottom lip. “Or without kissing this gorgeous mouth.”
I struggle to inhale, and he makes it worse by replacing his thumb with his lips. My eyes sink closed. The warmth of his kiss engulfs me.
When we break apart, I’m drunk on the feeling of it. “Tomorrow,” I say.
• • •
Sure enough, we see each other every afternoon. We sort through the memory box. Auden paints the story of our past, and I’m a captive audience. We talk about life. Sometimes we talk about the future. We run lines together from Romeo and Juliet. Especially the kissing scenes. I find myself falling for him more and more. It’s like gravity. I can’t fight it. I don’t even want to try.
Friday at school, I can’t stop checking the time on my phone. It feels silly to count down the minutes to the end of the day. But I can’t think of anything else. Only three more hours until I see him. After school. Right after play practice. I’ll drive straight to the Taco Town parking lot to meet him. Three more hours until we can try again to bring back more memories.
Grace isn’t at lunch, so I have no one to distract me. I’m pretty sure she’s off with Brad Corbin. Guess he didn’t let the little incident with Mike deter him. I’m glad. She needs this.
As I load up my backpack at the end of the day, my phone buzzes with a text from her. Don’t hate me for ditching out at lunch! I was with Brad. Sorry to be MIA lately!
The truth is that her budding relationship with Brad has worked out quite nicely for me. She’s so distracted and busy with him that she hasn’t noticed how distracted and busy I am with Auden.
Don’t stress. I type. I’m happy for you. Have fun!
Thanks, girl. Love you!
Love you too.
Smiling, I put my phone away and head to rehearsal. Most of the cast has already gathered on the stage, sitting in small groups, talking through the dramas of their day. Cam spots me and motions for me to sit by him. As I walk up to the stage, he examines me.
“Don’t you look fancy today?” he says.
I glance down at my outfit with a twinge of embarrassment. “I do not.”
In truth, I’d spent a fair amount of time putting together my outfit last night: A deep red peasant blouse with shimmering jewel beads woven in around the collar and skinny jeans. I pulled out my old jewelry box to find the chandelier earrings that matched perfectly.
Cam grins. “You dressed up for me, didn’t you?”<
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I sit down and shove him. “Always.”
He leans back on his palms. “Hey, what are you doing this weekend?”
I pause, probably too long, before answering. “I think Mama has some family thing planned.”
“A ‘family thing?’”
I can hear the air quotes in his voice as he asks it. I shrug and rummage through my backpack to try and look distracted. “You know how she is.”
“Too bad. There’s a group of us getting together.”
As if this is anything new? It’s been this way since middle school. The same group getting together to hang out at the same houses to do the same stuff they’ve always done. Compared to the prospect of an evening with Auden, I almost laugh out loud. Thankfully, I find my script in my bag and pull it out.
“So,” I say, in an attempt to move the conversation along. “What scene are we running today?”
Cam’s gaze lingers on me for a moment, but then he flips open his script as well. “Party scene, I think. And you know what that means?”
“What?” I ask, not really paying attention as I turn to the scene.
“First kiss.”
My hand freezes midturn of the script page. Cam waggles his eyebrows. “I hope you have minty gum on you because I had garlic bread pizza for lunch.”
As it happens, I made sure to have a full supply of mint gum in my bag. But it’s not for him.
“Looks like I’m in for an amazing experience,” I say, faking a gag. I stare at my script, a small knot forming in my stomach. It feels wrong to be kissing Cam after what I’ve shared with Auden, even if it is acting. I wish we were running any other scene.
Cam taps his script. “I need to take tips from this Romeo dude.”
“What do you mean?”
“One look and the chick is in love with him. Then they make out after exactly three minutes. And the next day, they are married and gettin’ it on. The guy has skills.”
I scoff. “Way to bring one of the most timeless love stories in the history of theater to your juvenile level.”
“Oh come on,” he laughs. “You don’t fall for this stuff, do you?”
“Maybe I do. You don’t think people can fall in love quickly?”
“No way. In fact, the thought of teenagers being in ‘love’ is a joke to begin with. It’s all hormones at this age. I read an article about it for health class. It said the undeveloped teenage brain isn’t capable of the maturity and depth required for real love.”
Blood rushes to my face. “You’re so full of it, Cam.”
He laughs. “Romeo and Juliet is hardly a timeless love story. It’s about two horny fourteen-year-olds who want to hump and then kill themselves when their parents say no.”
I’m gripped with the sudden urge to punch his smug face. “If you think the play is so stupid, then why did you audition for the lead?”
“How else would I get the chance to make out with you again?” He grins. “It’s all hormones, Seashell.”
Thankfully, Mr. Lyman breezes in before I can smack him.
“All right, people. Act one, scene five. Get in your places. Those of you not in this scene—backstage. And keep your chatter to a dull roar, please. Last week’s rehearsal was unacceptable. Why can’t you all be more like Jake and Amy and quietly make out when you’re not onstage?”
Amy’s face goes bright red.
Cam elbows me. “Hormones,” he whispers triumphantly.
• • •
I’ve never been more relieved for practice to be over. In a twist of luck, Mr. Lyman didn’t require Cam and me to actually kiss. We only touched foreheads, though even that felt too close. Normally it wouldn’t bother me, but our conversation left a sour taste in my mouth. It’s still there now.
As I push out the double doors to the auditorium, the crisp, wet fall air pushes against me. It’s rained, and silver clouds hang low in the sky, trapping the chill. The puddles mirror the gray sky above.
A tall figure steps out from the side wall of the school, and I spin with a startled gasp.
“Auden!” My surprise immediately flips into concern. I look around the parking lot. “People are still leaving rehearsal. They’ll see you.”
“Maybe I don’t care,” he says, taking my hand.
“Well, you should.”
He laces his fingers in mine. I give him an exasperated smile and pull him toward my car, which sits alone on the far corner. “It’s risky.”
“I couldn’t wait,” he says. “I’ve been sitting out here for the last hour. Waiting to see you.”
“You’re too bold,” I say, though it sends a thrill through me to know that he’s been thinking about me as much as I’ve been thinking about him. “We can’t do anything here.”
“Can’t we?”
He’s close. So close. He brushes hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. My hand tightens around the key fob. He brings his fingers beneath my chin. I straighten, guided by his touch. His dark, warm eyes burn into me as he puts his hands on my shoulders, then runs them down my arms. My skin tingles, and my mouth has gone dry.
I lift my face, longing to feel his lips on mine, when a car pulls into the empty space next to us. Auden’s arms tighten, pulling me against him.
It’s Grace.
Chapter 19
Grace slams her car into park and gets out, the engine still running. I’ve never seen that look on her face before. Not only shock but fury. And pain.
“What in the hell, Auden?”
“Grace. Let me explain.” The sharpness of desperation rings in his voice.
“No. No. I don’t want to hear it.” Her fierceness shocks me. “What are you doing here?”
“What are you doing here?” I ask, bristling at her tone.
She laughs, incredulous. “I came to pick you up after practice. To spend some time with you. I was feeling guilty. But I guess I didn’t need to since you were busy sneaking around behind my back anyway.”
I stare at her. The knee-jerk guilt of being caught has melted into anger. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. I’m not doing anything wrong.”
She scoffs, and I double down. “You are the one that should be explaining.”
“What are you talking about?” she snaps.
My jaw tightens. “How do you know Auden?”
Grace tenses, and that tells me everything I need to know.
“You know what happened. What really happened when I was in therapy. You’ve always known. And you’ve gone right along with it.”
“You don’t understand—”
“You’re right. I don’t. I don’t understand how you could let my mother erase a part of my freaking brain without my permission.”
Grace looks as if she’s going to reply, but bites back her words. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, okay?”
“Why didn’t you tell me I had a boyfriend?” I demand. “How could you let her do this?”
“There’s a lot to this story that you don’t know. And I’m sure Auden hasn’t told you either.”
Rage burns in my chest. “He’s the only one telling me anything! The doctor didn’t just stop my panic attacks, he took away part of my mind, Grace. Part of my life. Good parts. And you’re pretending it never happened.”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. “This is not about me. I’m not going to let this become about me. He’s the one who’s been hiding the whole story.” She points furiously at Auden. “Ask him, Shelby. Ask him to tell you to real truth.”
“I’m not hiding anything from her,” Auden snaps. “But I have the right to tell her in my own time.”
She laughs bitterly. “Whatever that means. Come on, Shelby. I’m taking you home right now.”
I back away. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”
; Grace comes toward me with determination. “I’m not leaving you with him.”
“She’s allowed to stay if she wants,” Auden says, moving between us.
Setting her jaw, Grace pulls out her phone. “Fine. Then I’m calling LouAnne.”
Auden’s eyes flash at Mama’s name, and we both cry out at the same time. “No!”
Grace scrolls to Mama’s number with a determined grit of her teeth. “If you don’t want her to know, I suggest you get out of here right now.”
“Don’t you dare bring Mama into this,” I say.
Auden grabs her arm. “Please don’t do this.”
Grace pulls herself free and, rage flashing in her eyes, jabs her phone. The call screen appears, and the soft sound of the first ring cuts through the air.
Auden pleads with her. “Grace, I was going to call you when the moment was right.”
The phone rings a second time.
“If I could talk with you,” Auden says, struggling to keep his voice calm. “I need you to understand—”
“I understand better than you know.”
A third ring.
“You don’t. I promise you don’t.”
“I’m not falling for it,” she says, her eyes welling up with tears. The sight of it shocks me. Suddenly, the ground feels unsteady beneath my feet.
“Tell me what’s going on right now,” I demand.
Mama’s voice comes through the speaker. “Hello?”
Auden’s whisper is choked with emotion. “Please.”
“Grace?” Mama’s voice buzzes. “Are you there?”
“I’ll go with you,” I say, in a sharp whisper. “Leave Mama out of this, and I’ll go with you.”
Grace wipes the tears from her eyes and lifts the phone to her ear. “Hey LouAnne. Sorry. I think I called you on accident.”
I can’t hear Mama’s reply. Grace forces a weak laugh and says goodbye. She hangs up and stares at the blank screen for a moment. Auden exhales a shaky breath.
Grace doesn’t look at him. “Let’s go, Shelby. Right now.”
I meet Auden’s eyes. He looks cornered. Hopeless. “I’ll call you in a little while,” I say, but it doesn’t seem to comfort him.
“Trust what you know,” he says softly.
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