Halfway through class, she peeked over at Nail Biter’s face one last time and then slid her pen over to the margin in her notebook and wrote: Long eyelashes. Light blue eyes. Angular features. Nail biter.
* * *
When class was over, she rushed out of the room before Nail Biter could talk to her again. She only had a few minutes to make it to her biology class. She found it and made it through without speaking to anyone. When that class finished, she slipped down the hallway and out the main doors. The clouds had cleared and the sky was a bright blue as she walked across campus and came to the quad filled with cherry trees. She had heard the trees were beautiful in the spring when all the blossoms opened into an explosion of pink. A quick search on her phone informed her they were Yoshino cherry trees.
Making a mental note of the name, she kept walking. It was helpful that she could remember some things. Getting into college would have been impossible otherwise. It was people she forgot most, which was why she had notebooks just for them—usually a new one every month or two. They were notebooks she had never shown a living soul, not even Tam, her ex-best friend who knew the full extent of her forgetfulness and the damage it could cause.
Avery’s stomach growled and she pulled out a map to find where she could get some lunch. She hadn’t eaten much breakfast, and now she was regretting it. Most everything was off campus, but when she checked her watch she realized she only had fifteen minutes to find food, order it, eat it, and get to class.
Finally remembering the food trucks she saw the week of orientation, she headed in that direction and stopped in front of the one with the shortest line. She stared at the menu, confused.
“Cream cheese?” she asked the guy when she finally got to the window with eight minutes left before her class began.
“Yeah, we got cream cheese,” the guy answered as he pulled at the elastic wrist of his clear plastic glove and looked at her like she was crazy.
“No, I mean, does that taste good? I’ve never heard of that on a hot dog.”
“Of course it tastes good—if you like cream cheese.”
“You have to try it,” a voice behind her said, and she turned sideways to see who it was. A pair of blue eyes met hers. Was this Nail Biter? She looked for his hands, but they were shoved into the pockets of his brown slacks. Great. Maybe it was him. Did he have dull blond hair like this guy? Or darker hair? She remembered the eyes, at least, and something about his features reminded her of squares—her mom’s squares she used to sketch angular faces. Yes, it had to be Nail Biter. She had seen someone else in the past week with a face like that, but she couldn’t remember who it was, or if it was all the same guy.
She opened her mouth to say she was sorry she had rushed out of class, but he spoke first.
“Everybody around here likes it.”
“Thanks,” she answered, and turned around to order. She wasn’t sure what else to say without launching into a conversation, which she didn’t have time for. Punctuality was something her parents had drilled into her since the day of her birth when she had arrived at precisely 12:00 a.m.
The guy at the window handed her the cream cheese and grilled onion hot dog and she moved out of the line.
“Hey,” Nail Biter said before she had a chance to rush off. “I’m Owen.”
She looked down at his outstretched hand. She could see his thumbnail. It was chewed.
“Avery,” she answered, accepting the handshake. Owen’s hand was warm and his grip steady. He gave his order to the guy at the window before turning back to her.
“Maybe I’ll see you in class,” he said with a quick wink. “Or next time you’re ordering a hot dog. You’ll be hooked. Promise.”
She gave him a warm smile and looked down at her watch. The face was cracked diagonally across the middle, but the hands ticked as faithfully as a heartbeat. Her dad had given it to her. As long as it kept working, it felt like a part of him living on. “Thanks. I gotta go. Class in two minutes.”
He nodded goodbye and she took off.
Owen. Owen. Owen. O. O. O. Remember the O.
“Hi, Avery!”
She looked up to see a girl with dark brown hair waving at her as she hurried by. Forcing a smile, Avery waved back. She had no idea who she was or where they’d met, and part of her was too tired to try to remember. She kept walking.
Owen. Owen.
If she hadn’t been so busy shoving the hot dog into her mouth, she would have stopped to write his name in her notebook. But he was right. The hot dog was amazing.
* * *
Chloe never talked about her job at home, but now that Avery was sitting next to her in the basement of the main library, she wouldn’t shut up about it. The smell of old books was heavy in the air. It was almost stifling, mixed with a tangy, glue-like stench and Chinese food. The Chinese was from Chloe’s lunch. She slurped a noodle as she grabbed a book out of the huge stack on the wide worktable.
“Attention to detail is everything,” Chloe said in between bites as she focused on the book in front of her. “Book repair is an art.”
Avery wondered if Chloe should be eating around these fragile books, but she kept her mouth shut. “I’m really glad for the job,” she answered, smiling. “Thanks again.”
Chloe opened the book, revealing sheaves of loose, yellowed pages and a broken spine. “Heaven should be here any minute. She’ll teach you everything you need to know. Might take a few weeks, but you’ll learn it all.”
“Heaven?”
Chloe took a huge mouthful of rice and mumbled, “Oh, yes, you’ll love her. She adores it down here. Favorite place in the world. I’ve never seen anyone repair books like she does. Hopefully she’ll teach you everything she knows so when she graduates next year I’ll still have you. I don’t have time for this stuff and hardly anyone else wants to do it.”
Looking around, Avery wondered what kind of person would find this place better than anywhere else. Upstairs was incredible. The reading room was a grand space with a vaulted ceiling and countless rows of study tables, but down here it was practically a tomb—dank, dark, and musty. Metal shelves spanned the length of the room, filled with books needing repair. Even the walls were yellow, like old paper. Avery would have to put some plants and sun lamps down here or she’d go absolutely bonkers.
Chloe started explaining the basics of book binding repair and Avery tried to keep up. Taking notes was impossible. Chloe was showing her stuff about headbands and natural twine, none of it hair-related, when a thin girl dressed all in black walked into the room.
“Finally got me some help in here, huh, Chloe?” she asked as she set down a big black bag made out of what looked like zippers sewn together. Her skin was a pretty sort of pale, like angel food cake, and her dreadlocks were dyed a deep fire-engine red. They hung all the way to her hips. Avery was sure she wouldn’t forget her anytime soon.
“I’m Avery,” she said, reaching out a hand. Heaven stared down at it like it was something foreign, and Avery finally lowered it.
“Chloe’s told me all about you,” she said in a kind voice. A smile spread across her lips as she walked around the table and sat next to Avery … then scooted several inches away. Avery noticed her long legs were covered in black Victorian lace stockings. “How are you liking classes?”
“They’re all right so far,” Avery answered as Heaven arranged things on the table in front of them. It was cluttered with everything from cups stuffed with paintbrushes and rulers to stacks of pre-cut waxed paper, balls of twine, scissors, and who knows what else. Avery figured she’d learn what everything was for eventually.
“How many credits are you taking?” Heaven asked.
“She took my advice and is keeping it slow this first quarter,” Chloe cut in. “I can’t tell you how many freshmen I’ve seen drop out because they overdo it the first year.” She clicked her chopsticks and picked up a piece of lemon chicken. “So don’t give her a hard time.”
Heaven dropped a ball
of twine and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Me? Never.”
“Thirteen credits,” Avery said, answering Heaven’s question. “I’m not too overwhelmed … so far.”
“It’ll get overwhelming at some point,” Heaven replied dryly.
Chloe closed the lid on her Chinese and got up, scooting around the edge of the table toward the door.
“Have fun, you two.” She pointed a finger at Avery. “Your shift ends at six, so if you catch the 6:05 on Fifteenth we can eat as soon as you’re home.”
Avery glanced at Heaven, her face growing hot. “I thought I might walk home, so don’t wait for me. I can heat up my dinner in the microwave if I need to.”
Chloe’s eyes narrowed as she opened the door. “Whatever works for you, Avery. Have fun.”
Guilt hit Avery in the gut. Chloe was doing so much for her—letting her live in her house, feeding her, giving her a job. The least she could do was act more grateful.
Heaven leaned down and grabbed her zipper-bag. She dug inside and produced two packages of peanuts, the kind flight attendants hand out on airplanes. She tossed one to Avery, who caught it before it hit her in the forehead.
“You can’t work on books without a bag of those,” Heaven said seriously as she slipped on a pair of reading glasses. Now she looked even more sophisticated, and Avery smiled. For the first time in years she hadn’t immediately looked at someone’s hands when she’d first met them.
3
When Avery got home, the table was set for dinner.
“Smells good,” she said as she dropped her bag in the hallway, something her mom would kill her for doing, and sat down at the table.
Chloe turned around from the stove, her hands shoved into a pair of hot pink oven mitts. “You’re home on time! I thought you were going to walk.”
Avery shrugged. “Decided to take the bus.”
She didn’t add that she’d almost stepped onto the wrong one.
“Well, great. Everything’s ready. Hope you’re hungry.”
Avery’s stomach growled in response, and once Chloe had everything on the table they both dug in.
“So,” Chloe said through a mouthful of mashed potatoes, “how’d you like Heaven? Did she overdose you on peanuts yet?”
“Yeah, four packages. Where does she get all those?”
“No idea.”
Avery watched Chloe as she ate. Even though she and her sister weren’t identical, Chloe’s face was similar in some ways, with wide-set eyes, thick eyebrows, and a strong, almost masculine chin. Chloe was a pretty, all-natural woman who didn’t bother with makeup or hair products, but she wasn’t so extreme as to be labeled “granola.” Avery had never thought much about her mom’s relationship with Chloe, but now that she was living with her, she kept wondering how close they really were. Could two such completely different people truly get along?
“I miss Mom,” Avery said, breaking the silence. “I knew I would miss her, but this is like … well, it feels like a big hole.”
Chloe stopped chewing and raised her eyes to Avery’s. “I’m sorry to hear that. Have you called her?”
“Yeah, a few times. She says she’s fine.”
“And do you tell her you’re fine too?”
Avery’s fingers tightened around her fork. “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Then you’re both trying to hide the obvious,” Chloe said. “That’s something she and I used to do growing up. Oh, wait … we still do that.” She rolled her eyes and scooped up a huge forkful of potatoes. “We have old baggage we haven’t talked about for years.”
A heavy silence took over the room. Avery shifted in her chair as Chloe’s words sank in. “I didn’t know there was stuff like that in the family.”
Chloe smirked. “We hide it pretty well, don’t we?”
Avery just stared. When she had stayed here in June, there hadn’t been a huge amount of tension between her mom and Chloe, but maybe it had been going on for so long it was like an old bruise nobody reacted to anymore. There was more silence before Avery finally gathered the courage to speak again.
“So … can you tell me what it is? Does it have to do with that man in all your pictures?”
Chloe gulped down her mouthful of potatoes. It was so loud Avery almost laughed. “Yes, it does. Guess I should have seen that coming, huh?”
Avery smiled and nodded toward the hallway. “He is everywhere. Why is he a secret?” She realized she was probably prying way too deep for Chloe’s comfort. Then again, why would Chloe display someone all over her walls if she wasn’t willing to talk about him?
“He happened before your mom met your dad,” she explained as she pushed her plate away and sipped at her lemonade. “His name was William, and he put every other man in our lives to shame. We fought over him and I ended up winning his heart.”
She didn’t say it with any amount of pride.
“Then Mom met Dad?” Avery asked.
“A year later, yes, right about the time William and I became engaged. Susan married your dad before William died, and suddenly I wasn’t the bad guy anymore. She felt guilty when it happened.” Her eyes grew distant.
“How did he die?”
“He was in a car accident. He was in a coma for six months.” Her jaw clenched. “Your mom married your dad right in the middle of all that—before we even knew if Will was going to live or not. He died the month she found out she was pregnant with you.”
The unspoken words were pretty clear to Avery. Her mother hadn’t been there when Chloe needed her most, and Chloe hadn’t forgiven her yet, almost twenty years later. Even worse, Avery was a constant reminder of that pain. It made her wonder why Chloe had ever agreed to let her live here.
Avery wasn’t sure what to say, so she picked up her fork and knife and started separating a piece of chicken from the bone. It was greasy and slid back and forth. Her stomach churned.
“I’m sorry, Chloe,” she finally managed to say. “I didn’t know about any of this. Mom never—”
“No, she wouldn’t talk about it, of course. Why should she? At least now she’s alone too, just like me.” Her eyes went distant. “Be glad you don’t have a sister. I think they only bring heartache. Maybe that’s why she only had you. Siblings are more of a curse than a blessing. Be grateful.”
Stab. Thanks, Chloe.
Avery had no idea how to respond. She had always thought her mom didn’t have any more kids because she couldn’t have them. She had never really pried into anything like that.
Chloe looked up, her eyes filled with tears. She balled up her napkin and set it on the table. “I’ll be out back if you need me.”
Avery watched her slip out the door to the back yard. She wanted to be angry with Chloe, but mostly she felt sorry for her. She looked down at her plate. Her mother had married right when her own twin sister’s fiancé was in a coma. How could she have done that? Maybe they all thought he’d pull through. She’d heard of comas lasting for years, after all. Avery wanted to call her mom and ask about the whole thing, but instead she gathered all the dishes and took them to the sink.
She spent a good half hour cleaning up and then stood in the hallway so she could stare at Chloe’s pictures in the fading light. The sun had gone down and she had to squint to see the faces. Walter (or was it William?) was handsome with a short beard and sparkling eyes. Most of the pictures were black and white even though they were taken in the nineties. A camera was strapped around Walter/William’s neck in one of the only colored pictures.
So, her mother was once in love with this man …
That was the oddest thing Avery had envisioned in a long time.
* * *
It was sunny Friday morning and then pouring rain in the afternoon. Avery had left her umbrella somewhere, and as she walked to her second class for the day she wished she owned two.
Hair plastered to her face, rain dripping off her nose, she tromped up the stairwell in a building that smelled like old tuna sandwiches. Even thoug
h she had been to biology every weekday for the past week and a half, she had forgotten yet again where it was. She knew it was on the second floor, but that was as far as her memory went.
Stopping, she leaned against the wall and dug through her bag for her little stack of Post-its. They were right were she expected, and as she continued up the stairs, shuffling through the notes, she cursed Chloe under her breath.
The other night, when Chloe had told her about … Walter? William? Something starting with W. Anyway, it was as if Avery had given her permission to rant to her about everything else she hated about her sister. Now Avery’s head swam with Chloe’s constant chatter, stories of how Susan was always the most popular, most outgoing, most organized, most accomplished. Susan had always had to outdo Chloe, so when W came along, Chloe played dirty until she won him—and look where that got her. But seriously … was that the stuff Avery wanted crammed in her head while she was trying to get into the swing of college and her new life? She couldn’t focus on her aunt’s past family dramas or she would forget something crucial about school and normal day-to-day living.
It was so important to keep everything under control. Calm. Organized. Quiet.
Bam!
Something hit Avery’s nose, her shoulder, her knee, and she was flying through the air. Landing hard on her tailbone, she slid down two stairs before she could grab the railing to stop herself.
“Oh, shit! I’m sorry!”
It was a familiar voice, and she stared up at none other than Nail Biter … or at least she thought it was him. O … his name had an O in it. Did it start with an O or was that the sound in the middle? Come on. She had to remember. She hadn’t seen him for a few days since English class on Monday. She had either not noticed him in class just a few minutes ago, or he hadn’t been there. She guessed he hadn’t been there. She was not that unobservant.
“It’s okay,” she answered as he looked down at her with a horrified expression. She must have run right into him, or he ran into her. O, O, O … damn it, what was his name?
If I Forget You Page 2