“Let’s head over there,” Kent said, nodding toward the room where the music originated.
“Sure, just a sec.”
She reached into her back pocket to text Jordan, only to see that he’d already texted her earlier.
I miss you so much. I’m at a stupid poker party my dad dragged me to. I’ll be home Monday morning. Want to talk tonight around eleven?
Grinning, she texted back that she was at a party too, and made a mental note to tell Kent she’d like to leave by ten thirty. Jordan answered right away.
Don’t mistake anyone for me and start making out with them.
Chuckling, she took a few sips of her drink and texted back: Oh, stop teasing me. You know I wouldn’t do that.
Did you dress up?
I’m wearing a black T-shirt. Do not be impressed.
The drink in her hand felt lighter, and she realized she’d already drunk most of it. Her head felt fuzzy. She spun around to find somewhere to put the glass.
“There you are,” Kent said, approaching her. “I thought you said you’d follow me into the other room.”
“Oh, I meant to.” She looked around, confused. “I was texting Jordan.”
Kent’s smile fell. “Jordan? You mean Jordan Meadows? Your neighbor?”
“Yeah.” She squinted. “He’s your friend, right?”
“Yes, he is.” He looked down at her drink. “You want some more?”
“Yeah, sure.” She handed him the glass and turned back to her phone to check for a reply to her last text.
I hope you have fun! Miss you lots. Talk to you tonight.
Looking forward to it.
And what the heck? She might as well type it: I love you.
She slipped her phone into her back pocket and let out a long, happy sigh. Maybe he would think it was too much for a text. She hadn’t told him she loved him yet, not in person. But it was the truth and she wanted him to know it … unless he didn’t reply to the text. Then what? She pulled her phone back out.
I love you too, Avery.
The music sounded louder in her head, but she didn’t mind. At that moment, she didn’t mind much of anything.
21
When Avery opened her eyes, the sun was streaming through her blinds. It was warm across her bed, and she pushed back her covers to find she was wearing her T-shirt and panties instead of pajamas. That was odd.
Rolling onto her side, she looked at her dad’s picture and took a deep breath. Her head was pounding like a sledgehammer on an anvil and she couldn’t string together more than two thoughts at a time. She groaned and wrapped an arm around her middle. She was going to puke.
Stumbling out of bed, she raced to the bathroom and retched into the toilet. Random scenes from the party flashed through her mind. The Reno cocktail. The tart flavor. Laughing with Kent in the middle of a strange crowd. She’d been happy for some reason, but everything was a blur. How had she gotten home? Tam? No. They’d argued. Kent must have brought her home.
Dropping to her knees, she bent over the toilet again, her stomach roiling. More came up. Her head felt like it was going to split. Tears rolled down her face. She remembered sitting in Kent’s Jeep. She’d asked him point-blank if he’d put alcohol in her drink and he told her he had. It was a clear memory, but only a snippet. He’d helped her inside the house, but there was nothing after that, just an empty space inside her head, like so many other memories fizzling out to nothing. This one, however, seemed darker than normal, as if it had never existed at all.
Wiping away some fresh tears, she stumbled to her feet and back to bed. When she woke again a few hours later, she checked her phone to find a message from Jordan.
Have fun last night? I’m assuming you did since you didn’t answer my call. I won the pot in a poker game, so I’m thinking maybe we should go to a fancy restaurant when I get back. What do you say?
She stared at the words, her mind whirling. Poker game? She scrolled through previous texts and bits and pieces of last night came back to her. She’d told him that she loved him … and then what?
She put down her phone and rubbed her forehead. Something bad had happened, but she didn’t want to go there in her head. She couldn’t. When she opened her eyes again, she noticed something on the floor near the foot of her bed—a small square package. Her stomach plummeted. That couldn’t be what she thought it was. Scrambling off the bed, she scooped up the package. It was red with white lettering and ripped down the center. Empty.
Disgusted, she tossed it back onto the floor. A condom wrapper. In her room. How could she possibly forget about something like this? Had she slept with Kent? Why would she do that? Kent was only a friend now. She couldn’t possibly have slept with him and forgotten about it. Or maybe she had …
Her knees went weak, and she nearly collapsed to the floor before grabbing hold of the edge of her bed. What had she done? This was something she could never erase, even if she couldn’t remember what had happened. It was an odd sensation, one that made her skin crawl. She stared down at her arms, dread clutching her insides as she imagined Kent touching her. Everywhere.
Feeling the sudden need for a shower, she ran into the bathroom and stepped under the stream of hot water. She tried to dig into the black memory again, but with no luck. When she ran a bar of soap over her body, she winced as something stung—a scratch on her left thigh. Jagged, as if she’d scraped a zipper across her skin. It was bright pink and raw.
Grabbing her hair in her hands, she squeezed the sides of her head and gritted her teeth. Remember. Remember. Remember.
She could remember everything about her father. She could remember plant names. She could remember all the details of being with Jordan. Why not this? Memories didn’t just drift away into nothing. They were there, she was sure of it. She just had to find them. She thought about the journals she’d thrown away.
“He’ll think I’m a total skank,” she told the tiled wall. “I can’t tell Jordan about this …”
Could she?
Once she was out of the shower, she wrapped a towel around herself and picked up the condom wrapper again. A shudder ran down her spine as the possibilities of what could have happened ran circles around her. If it had been opened, wouldn’t the actual used condom be lying around somewhere? She looked through the trashcan, which was mostly empty. It wasn’t in there. She searched her floor by the bed then ripped off all her blankets and sheets, shaking them out one by one. Nothing. Maybe the wrapper had stuck to her shoe at the party and she’d tracked it inside. Maybe it didn’t belong to anyone she knew at all.
Relief flooded her, but it didn’t last long. She knew she wouldn’t rest again until she figured this out.
* * *
“Are you all right?” Chloe asked from the dining table when Avery made her way into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Her stomach still didn’t feel up to much more than that.
“Yeah, I’ve got a killer headache. I need coffee.”
Chloe adjusted the reading glasses on her face and folded up the newspaper she’d been reading. “Don’t take this the wrong way, honey, but you look like you have a hangover.”
It was far more than a hangover. Avery clenched her teeth and opened the bag of coffee beans by the coffee maker. After taking a deep breath of the rich, warm aroma of the beans, she said, “Yeah, I thought I was drinking virgin cocktails last night, but some of them must’ve been the real thing. I’ve never … well, I’ve never gotten drunk before, so I’m not used to this.”
“The coffee should help,” Chloe answered. “Anything you want to talk about?”
“No, it’s fine. I won’t be drinking again anytime soon.” Avery let out a weak laugh and rolled her eyes at herself. She had to keep acting like nothing was wrong or Chloe would get suspicious.
Avery measured some coffee beans into the grinder and snapped on the lid. She pressed the lever, letting the chunky whir of blades against beans drown out everything else even though the noise made her heada
che fifteen times worse.
She stopped grinding and lifted the lid. The smell was even richer now—dark, like the black memory in her head. She grabbed a filter and put it into the coffee maker.
“Are you sure?” Chloe pressed. “You seem … oh, never mind.” She waved her hand in the air and turned back to her newspaper.
Her hand trembling, Avery cringed as she measured the coffee grinds into the filter. Chloe was far too observant. How was she going to get around this? Then she remembered Tam. “Just a fight with an old school friend I ran into,” she said as dramatically as she could. “She’s really a piece of work.”
It was then that she saw a glass container out of the corner of her eye. It was a dry mix of ginger tea. Avery knew the taste of it on her tongue even though she didn’t remember ever making a cup of it. It tasted a lot like lemons and the ginger was pleasantly sharp going down.
“You’re so beautiful.”
The words echoed in her mind, drifting up from the black memory, taunting her. Jordan had called her beautiful, but the voice she was remembering now wasn’t his.
“That sounds daunting,” Chloe laughed. “What happened?”
“Oh, it’s over now,” she answered, hoping to stop Chloe from pumping her for more information. “Seriously, I think my headache will get worse if I talk about it.” She squeezed her eyes shut.
“It’s not anything to do with Jordan?” Chloe persisted.
Avery’s voice cracked as she replied, “This has nothing to do with Jordan.”
“Oh?”
“It’s ancient history.” Her head pounded as she turned around to face Chloe. “Can we talk about this later? Please? I want coffee. That’s all I can handle right now.”
Chloe gave her a sympathetic smile over the top of her paper. “All right.”
As Avery filled up the carafe with water, she wondered how she could face Jordan now, even if he did understand her memory problem. Who in their right mind would let something like this slide? Maybe if she called Kent and simply asked him what had happened, she’d have more to work with.
Once her coffee was ready, she skipped the nutmeg and carried her mug to her room. Her hands shook as she pulled out her phone and scrolled down to Kent in her contacts list. He might laugh at her. Or he might understand.
His phone rang and rang and rang, finally clicking over to his voicemail. She left a brief message asking him what had happened last night and saying she’d found something of his in her room, then hung up and sent him a text.
I really need to talk to you. Call me?
Next, she sent Jordan a text, telling him she was excited to see him on Monday, even though she was sick to her stomach over it. She had to get through the rest of today and Sunday. Both loomed ahead of her like a stormy sea. She knew Chloe’s suspicions would only worsen.
Looking up at her dad’s picture, Avery took in a deep breath. She needed a safe place and someone who wouldn’t judge her or pry. She needed somewhere she could sort things out in her head. She thought of the hot dog food truck, of golden leaves falling to the ground, a pair of caring blue eyes.
22
“You really don’t mind me staying here?” Avery asked as she walked down the hall of Owen’s rented house. The air smelled like burnt toast and the carpet was in desperate need of a vacuum.
“Are you kidding? Girls stay here all the time,” he laughed. “The guys won’t mind, I promise. They can behave themselves, and if they don’t, I’ll kill them for you.”
She smirked as he held open a bedroom door. “This is my space. I can sleep on the couch in the living room for as long as you’re here.”
“I can’t take your whole room.”
“Sure you can. You won’t have any privacy otherwise, trust me. It’s only until Jordan gets back, right?”
“Yeah, Monday.”
“Then I’ll be fine.” He leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms. He seemed quite pleased to be helping her out.
“How’s the dating coming along?” she asked as she set her bag on the floor next to his dresser. She’d packed quickly, knowing if Chloe found out she was leaving she’d try to get her to stay and talk about what was bothering her. She had waited until Chloe left for the store, and then she’d stuck a note on the front door saying she’d be back Monday night. The bus ride to Owen’s street only took five minutes, so she wasn’t even far away.
“I’ve got one tonight,” Owen answered, smiling as he looked around his room. She could tell he was looking at it through a different pair of eyes now, wondering what she was going to think.
“Oh? What are you going to do?”
“Dinner and a movie. Are you sure you’ll be okay here by yourself?”
“I’ll be fine, I promise.”
“There’s a Greek place down the road if you get hungry. I can’t guarantee there’s anything in the fridge.” He groaned to himself and glanced down the hallway. “Actually, don’t even go into the kitchen if you know what’s good for you. It’s pretty bad.”
“I can only imagine.” A house full of college guys was an adventure in and of itself, she realized. But it was better than Chloe’s nagging. It was incredibly nice of Owen to have answered her phone call and invite her over the second she said she was feeling lonely, stranded, and desperate to stay somewhere other than home.
“I should be back by eleven. If you need anything, I’ve got this.” He lifted his phone and smiled. “I’ve got to get going. My cab should be here any minute. Can’t really take my date out on the back of my bike.”
“You’re really sweet, Owen. Thanks.” She rushed forward and hugged him, her heart pounding in her chest. It wasn’t that she had romantic feelings for him. In fact, in the past few weeks as they’d studied together she’d become less attracted to him and more enamored of his friendship than anything else. The fact that he actually cared about her and respected her space and decisions was mind-blowing.
He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed once. “You’re welcome. You sure you’ll be fine?”
“Absolutely. I’ll get some homework done.”
He pulled away and nudged her shoulder. “Don’t study too hard. It’s Saturday. See you later.”
When he was gone, Avery shut his bedroom door and poked around some of the stuff in his room. He was certainly into marine biology, just as he’d said. Posters covered his walls: pictures of the ocean, the periodic table, diagrammed fish. His little bookshelf was filled with school textbooks and no fiction. She didn’t see a fish tank, which made her laugh. She turned to his bed. It was really the only comfortable place to sit. Settling there made her nervous for a moment, but it passed. She checked her phone and listened to a message from Chloe.
“Hi, Avery. I got your note on the door. Thanks for telling me where you’ll be this time. Please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you. Be safe, okay?”
Avery looked at her phone, her heart sinking. Why did she feel like she was always hurting people no matter what she did? She set her phone on Owen’s brown quilt and started tracing the squares with her finger. There was something about that ginger tea jar that wouldn’t stop nagging at her. She’d had a cup of it last night, she was sure of it now. She couldn’t remember making it, but maybe Kent had?
She kept tracing the squares on the quilt, digging deeper into the black void of her memory. Like feathers floating in the air, fragments of images bounced up and down, taunting her. She reached for them, grabbing and catching nothing. Then one came into full focus and she gasped. She was riding in Kent’s Jeep. He’d put the heater on, and she felt so tired. Good, but tired, as if someone had taken twenty pounds off her body and set her on a light, fluffy pillow to go to sleep. If she turned too fast she felt queasy, but other than that nothing felt bad. If anything, she felt happy.
The porch light was on when Kent pulled into the driveway. Then she was on the front steps and Kent was pulling a note off the door. Avery snatched it from his fingers and focuse
d hard on the words.
I went out with some friends. I’ll be back around one. XOXO
“Went out with friends?” she asked nobody in particular. “Chloe doesn’t have friends.”
“I’m sure she has friends,” Kent chuckled, slipping the key from her hand and putting it into the lock. “She’s a grown woman, isn’t she?”
Then she was in the kitchen watching Kent from the kitchen table, thinking about him on the ice rink, sweat dripping down his brow. Mostly, she thought about how sad he had looked when he’d talked about his mom.
“Here, drink this. You’ll feel better,” he said, setting a cup of tea in front of her. The sharp scent of ginger and lemon surrounded her.
“Thanks, Kent. This is nice of you.”
“No problem.”
She sipped the hot drink, savoring the spiciness and warmth as it went down her throat. It felt soothing. Kent started talking about English class and then he laughed. She laughed too, even though she had no idea what was so funny.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, reaching out to touch her cheek. She didn’t try to stop him. His hand felt good there. It felt comforting, even though she wasn’t sure why she needed to be comforted. Then out of nowhere she felt her pillow beneath her head. Kent was somewhere close by, his breath on her face, his hands tugging at something on her hips.
“What … what’s happening?” she mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut as the dizziness kept coming in waves.
“Shhh, relax.”
She felt cold all of a sudden. More tugging. Something sharp scratched her thigh, but then Kent’s lips were close to her ear. Hands pushed on her legs, forcing them apart. Pain. She tried to twist on her side, but couldn’t move.
“Kent, I …”
“Shhhh …”
His voice floated around her like dandelion tufts in the wind. She reached out to touch one, but the room spun again. Something heavy pinned down her shoulders. Pain once more, deep in her abdomen, between her legs, then a low, deep groan in her ear. Tears slid down her cheeks. Something was terribly wrong. She knew what was happening, but it didn’t make any sense. Kent wouldn’t hurt her like this. He was her friend. The bed seemed to tilt on its side and she grabbed her blankets, afraid of rolling onto the floor. Crying out, she felt damp skin. A wrist. Fingers. Kent squeezed her hand.
If I Forget You Page 19