If I Forget You

by Michelle D. Argyle

  “Go to sleep, Avery. You won’t even remember this by morning.”

  * * *

  The worst thing about memories was time. Some of Avery’s fondest memories were so warped and tainted she often wasn’t sure how truly accurate they were. They were worn-out boxes inside her head, opened over and over and over, while others remained closed. Locked.

  When it came to the memory of what had happened last night, Avery wanted to lock it up and forget about it, but she knew it was impossible. It was becoming a box she opened up repeatedly in a desperate attempt to make sense of it. She wished Kent had been right about her forgetting it, but he’d underestimated her crazy brain and the way it stored information.

  By 10:30 she was a wreck, bursting into tears then calming herself down only to remember what had happened all over again. How could she have been so stupid? So naïve? Or had Kent just been especially good at fooling her?

  She stood in the middle of Owen’s room, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as the sounds of his housemates reverberated outside the bedroom. She rushed forward and locked the door, her hands damp with sweat. There was laughing and a football game on TV. Somebody walked down the hall, passing the door. Each time she heard a noise, she took another step backward, finally ending up at the far wall, her body trembling as she sank to the floor and pressed her face to her knees. She kept her crying as quiet as possible, but the tears wouldn’t stop. It had all been her fault. She’d been stupid to go to that party in the first place.

  Hours seemed to pass as she cowered against the wall until somewhere past her muffled sobs she heard a soft rap on the door.

  “Ave? You okay in there? I’m home.”

  Owen. She couldn’t face him now. She couldn’t face anyone. Her face turned hot as she stumbled to her feet and glanced out the window, wishing she could leave. Her crying must have been louder than she’d thought.

  “I-I’m fine,” she called out as steadily as she could. “I hope you had a good time.”

  There was a long pause. “You don’t sound fine. Can you open the door? I won’t come inside if you don’t want.”

  She tensed as the memory of Kent pinning her down on the bed slammed into her like a freight train. “I … I …”

  “Avery, please.”

  Slowly, each step heavy, she walked across the room and put her hand on the door lock. She clicked it to the right then twisted the knob, inching the door open until a thin sliver of space was between her and Owen. She could make out his nose and chin.

  “Can I get you anything?” he asked. “The guys said they heard you crying in here. They said it’s been going on for hours.”

  Great. The walls were probably as thin as paper. “I can’t talk about it,” she whispered as she ran a finger along the edge of the door.

  “Do you have your phone? Do you need to call Jordan?”

  Jordan. She hadn’t even thought about calling him. She imagined telling him her disjointed memory. If she did tell him, she knew it couldn’t be over the phone. But he wouldn’t want to hear about it. Who would?

  Taking a deep breath, she let go of the door and stepped backward. “Owen, I …”

  He opened the door, his face ashen as he looked at her. “You don’t have to explain anything,” he said gently, not making any move toward her. “I’ll be here, okay? If you need anything, I’ll be right here.”

  With that, he backed away until the door clicked shut. She rushed forward to lock it again. For a long moment she felt the same as when she’d sipped that ginger tea—as if the world was spinning out of control. Her mind was fuzzy and blank. When she turned to look out the window, reflections of the streetlights glistened on the road as rain drizzled from the sky. She shut her eyes and felt nothing.

  * * *

  Avery had no idea what time it was when she woke up on Sunday. A blanket of dark clouds hid the sun. Rain pattered against Owen’s window, sliding down the panes in crooked, transparent lines. Owen’s bed smelled like bacon for some reason, or maybe that was coming from the kitchen. Her stomach growled, probably because she hadn’t eaten since Friday evening. Groaning, she rolled over and tried to push away the memories of the party and Kent. She would get past this and move on. It was possible. It wasn’t any worse than her father dying, and she’d finally learned how to deal with that.

  When she made it to her feet, she rushed for the door so she could find the bathroom. She’d had to pee since last night, but she had been too frightened to leave the bedroom.

  She unlocked the door and pushed it open, only to trip over something as soon as she stepped forward. She caught herself on the doorframe and looked down, confused. A grunt, and then the heavy thing on the floor moved.

  “Owen?” she gasped as he rolled over to get out of the way. “What are you doing? You slept in the hallway?”

  He leaned on an elbow, rubbing his right eye as he looked up at her. “Yeah,” he answered through a yawn. “I told you I’d be right here.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Does it look like I’m kidding?”

  At least he’d found a sleeping bag. Avery stared down at him, not sure if she should laugh or cry. “Well, thanks,” she said. “I mean, seriously … that was really nice of you.”

  “Not a problem. You want some breakfast? I guess the guys are attempting to cook bacon this morning. We’re lucky they didn’t party last night so they’re not all hung over. Honestly, I think they’re finally getting tired of it.”

  She laughed. “Breakfast sounds great, but I’ve got to find your bathroom first. Sorry.”

  “Oh, right. It’s around the corner.”

  “Thanks.”

  When she’d finished in the bathroom and made sure she didn’t look too much like a zombie, she found the kitchen and realized Owen hadn’t been exaggerating yesterday. The sink was piled high with dirty dishes and the floor was splattered with something resembling dried spaghetti sauce covered in toast crumbs. The table seemed clean enough.

  Three guys, all in boxer shorts, looked up as she entered. They didn’t seem to mind a girl wandering into their kitchen, but they seemed surprised to see her, the girl they’d heard crying all night long. Owen was at the table with a bowl of cereal, his spoon halfway to his mouth as he looked up at her.

  “Hey,” the guy at the stove said, nodding to her. “You want some bacon and eggs? I’m cooking for everybody.”

  “Yeah, thanks.” She tried not to look at his naked chest and abs as she walked to the table and slid into the chair next to Owen. She was starting to wish she was back at home with Chloe.

  “We don’t have to stick around here all day,” Owen said through a mouthful of cereal. “Tell me where you want to go and we’ll go.”

  “Aren’t you going to introduce us?” another guy asked as he poured himself a bowl of cereal and sat across from Owen.

  “Oh, right.” Owen smiled weakly. “Avery, this is Spencer, and over at the stove is our Master Chef, David, and next to him is Levi, who attempts to help him by cracking eggs into a bowl. Notice how much he has to concentrate.”

  “Shut up, man,” Levi grumbled. “You’re gonna be eating these eggs. Want me to spit in yours?”

  Owen rolled his eyes and took another bite of cereal. “I already told them who you are,” he explained to Avery, “so they know we’re not together.”

  “Stay as long as you want,” David said over his shoulder. He gave her an apologetic look. “I promise we don’t bite … unless you want us to.”

  “Thanks,” she answered. A part of her wanted to say she wouldn’t be spending another night, but she knew she probably would. Facing Chloe still sounded worse than hiding out in Owen’s room again.

  After she and Owen ate mediocre eggs and bacon, Avery changed her clothes and they rode the bus downtown to Pike Place.

  “Jordan wanted to bring me here,” she said as they walked through the crowded shops. Everything was colorful and loud, and she let herself absorb as much o
f it as possible, hoping it would sweep away other things inside her head.

  “Do I get to meet this Jordan guy?” Owen asked as they stopped to watch a caricature artist draw a little girl.

  “Of course,” she answered. “How was your date last night?”

  “It was great, actually. I have you to thank for that, by the way.”

  “Me?” She turned to look at him, stopping in the middle of the walkway as people brushed past them. “Why?”

  He gave her a crooked smile. “You gave me the courage to start asking other girls out. You talked to me and didn’t think I was some weird guy latching on to you. At least, I don’t think you thought that.”

  “Of course not. I thought you were different, but I liked it.” Her smile fell. “I’m sorry if I hurt you, Owen.”

  “Hurt me? No, you never hurt me.” He nudged her to keep walking. “Sometimes things work out and sometimes they don’t. I think it’s how we react to it that matters most.”

  She wanted to turn to him right then and tell him what Kent had done, how he’d taken what he wanted even though he had no right, but she was too frightened to say anything. Maybe how she reacted was what mattered most, but what if fear kept her from doing what she knew she should do? What if her own memories betrayed her? She was a danger to herself, and she was glad Owen had found the courage to look for what he wanted elsewhere. For her, she would have to hold on to the one solid thing she still had, and that was Jordan. Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough. He’d texted her that his flight would land at two in the afternoon. He’d head straight home and she’d be there waiting for him, even though it meant missing work.

  “Thanks,” she said as they continued through the market.

  He pushed his hands into his jacket pockets and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. “For what?”

  “For being a real friend. I’ve had some bad experiences with friends lately, but you seem different. At least, I hope you are.”

  He tilted his head. “I’ll never ask anything of you, Avery. Not unless you want me to.”

  She smiled and looked down at the boarded floor, smooth and shiny from wear. “That’s why you’re different,” she said with a sigh.

  23

  Avery waited impatiently on Jordan’s front steps, tuning her ears to any sound that might resemble the familiar rumble of his bike. She’d ridden the bus from campus thirty minutes earlier, hoping he’d be back by the time she arrived. No such luck.

  When she heard the motorcycle, she stood on her tiptoes and spotted him down the road. Her heart pounded in her throat. If she’d had any doubt she was in love with him, it flew away in that moment. She’d never wanted to see someone so badly in her entire life. He parked his bike and took off his helmet, grinning as he walked across the lawn and she ran into his arms.

  “I missed you,” she gasped as he hugged her tightly, and he kissed her in response. He tasted so good. His presence seemed to wipe away the pain she’d felt in the past few days.

  “Let’s go inside,” he finally said. “I’ll get my bags later.”

  She glanced at his luggage tied to the back of his bike. “We can take them in now. What if it rains?”

  “They’ll be fine. Come on.”

  They wasted no time climbing the stairs to his room, but as she sat on his bed and watched him take off his jeans and T-shirt, a sick sort of dread crept into her heart. She pushed it away, blinking as he raised his eyebrows at her.

  “Not in the mood all of a sudden?” he laughed, noticing she was still fully clothed.

  She could do this. Nothing had changed between them. Slowly, she pulled off her shirt and started unbuttoning her jeans. Jordan watched every movement. The dread came back again, and suddenly she was sweating. A gasp left her throat as Jordan climbed onto the bed and helped her take off her pants. He rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him, kissing her neck and shoulders as he skimmed his hands down the curves of her hips. She nearly choked on her own breaths, but he didn’t seem to notice.

  “I won a lot of money in the poker game I told you about,” he said, reaching around to unclasp her bra. He fumbled with the hooks then gave up and slid his hands lower. “I thought we could go spend it tonight.” He paused for a moment. “Wait, are you missing work to see me right now?”

  She nodded, studying his face. He was clean-shaven, his features so square and crisp and clean. Something seemed different. Nothing about him had changed, but she felt as if she was looking at him through a new pair of eyes.

  “It’s not a big deal,” she explained, pushing back the dread again. “I went to my classes, so I was still productive.”

  “Oh, good.” He leaned up to kiss her again, burying his fingers in her hair. “It feels so good to touch you,” he whispered, trying for her bra again. This time he managed to unclasp it and slip it off her body before moving on to her underwear.

  Her breath caught in her throat as the memory of Kent came at her full force once again. The pain in her abdomen. The scratch on her thigh. “Jordan, there’s something I …”

  “Hold on,” he said through heavy breaths, and leaned around her to pull open a drawer on the table by his bed. He pulled out a little square wrapper. Black with white lettering. Not red and white. Avery squeezed her eyes shut, bile rising up her throat.

  Go away. Don’t let it get it to you. Kent is nothing. It’s over.

  Jordan ripped it open with his teeth. He looked into her eyes and grinned, completely oblivious. “I missed you so much.” He raised the wrapper and wiggled his eyebrows. “Help me out with this?”

  She stared at it, the bile in her throat stinging as tears sprang to her eyes. It all came back. Every single part of the memory all at the same time, and before she could stop it, she leaned over the side of the bed and threw up. So much for romance.

  “Avery?” Jordan shifted out from under her and took her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Are you sick? What’s the matter?”

  He didn’t even look at the mess she’d made, which was now soaking into the carpet. She couldn’t tear her eyes away, knowing she had to tell Jordan everything. He cared about her more than anyone not part of her family had ever cared about her. He could help her.

  “The party,” she gasped. “Tam and I fought and the whole night was a disaster. I ended up drinking and I …” Her voice wheezed as she tried to get out the rest of the story, as disjointed as it probably sounded, but her tears were too much. She broke down and buried her face in Jordan’s shoulder.

  “Tell me everything, Avery. It’s okay. I’m here.”

  She took in a shuddering breath. “Someone hurt me,” she whispered. “I didn’t remember any of the details until later, but I think I was raped.”

  Jordan’s arms tensed around her. Avery knew he was fighting back a stream of cuss words. “You’re … you’re in shock,” he said between carefully measured breaths. “Let’s go over everything together. We’ll call the police, maybe even take you to the hospital, okay?” He muttered something about not being there for her, and some other things she couldn’t make out.

  “I shouldn’t have gotten drunk,” she whispered. “I’m pretty sure that’s why—”

  “This is not your fault,” Jordan snapped. “Don’t even go there, Avery. Please tell me everything and we’ll take it from there.”

  She focused on his arms around her, how safe she felt at that moment. Nothing could harm her as long as he was here. “Kent gave me a ride home,” she began slowly. “I didn’t expect him to be at the party, but when me and Tam got in our fight, I ran into him. He was the one buying my drinks, but maybe he put more than alcohol in them, because it was after he came into my aunt’s house and I drank the cup of tea he made me that—”

  “I’ve heard enough.” Jordan pushed away from her and got dressed before she could even process what was happening.

  “Are you mad at me?” she asked, pulling the blankets a
round her as goose bumps popped up across her body.

  He grabbed his jacket from the closet and pushed his arms through the sleeves. “No, I’m not mad at you. It’s Kent. I’m gonna kill him.”

  “But, Jordan …”

  His jaw tensed and his eyes blazed with anger. He pointed a finger at her. “Nobody hurts you like this, Avery. Nobody. I will take care of this. Go home to your aunt and I’ll be back as soon as I can. Call me if you need me.”

  Before she could even respond, he yanked up the jacket zipper, grabbed his motorcycle helmet from his dresser, and left.

  Avery stared at the open doorway, her mind reeling. When she turned to look at the fish tank, tears slid down her cheeks. The fish were in a world of their own, the light glittering off their shiny scales. She felt like that for a moment, as if she was surrounded by water and glass and she’d never escape.

  * * *

  After cleaning up Jordan’s carpet, Avery paced his room. Now that he had left, she wondered if she’d done the right thing in telling him what had happened. What if he did something stupid? He’d been so angry when he’d left. She shut her eyes and tried not to imagine him beating the shit out of Kent just for her. Then again, Jordan had a point. If Kent had done this to her, he would do it to other women. Hell, he probably already had. It wasn’t that she wanted to get back at him. All she really wanted was to make it all go away, forget it had happened. No matter what anyone said, she still felt responsible. She had made choices, after all, and she should accept where they’d led her.