by Cindi Madsen
“What if not dealing with any of that, and just being with you, is what makes me happy?”
“Okay.”
Spencer’s eyebrows shot up. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“If only it were that easy.” He tugged on her hand, pulling her toward Mr. Barker’s classroom. They walked in and took their seats, and Mr. Barker started his lecture. About ten minutes in, he let them work on their group assignment.
Spencer scooted his desk next to hers. “All I can think about now is my dad. It’s not that I don’t want to forgive him, but it’s hard to forget all the hurt he’s caused our family.”
Liv propped her elbow on her desk, her cheek on her fist. “Look, it’s easy for me to tell you to forget about the past, because I don’t really have one. I think the changes you’ve made in your life are admirable.” She smiled at him. “And you know I’m crazy about you.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever be good enough for you.”
“It’s because of you, because of things like the list, that I’ve decided it doesn’t matter if I ever get my memories back. I’d be a different person if I never met you.”
“I was a different person before I met you.”
Her stomach did a little flip, and she wished she wasn’t sitting in math class, surrounded by other students.
“How’s it coming?” Mr. Barker asked from behind them.
Liv glanced down at her blank paper, trying to come up with a response.
“We got stopped on a couple problems,” Spencer said. “But we’re going to get it all figured out.”
…
It wasn’t until she and Spencer had driven to the middle of nowhere that she started to rethink her decision. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked as she rounded the hood of Spencer’s car.
He held the driver’s side door open. “The worst you can do is take out some cactuses, and I’m sure no one would care if a few went missing.”
She settled into the driver’s seat but didn’t touch the steering wheel until Spencer got back in and buckled his seat belt. On the ride out, he’d gone over the basics. It sounded simple enough, but sitting behind the wheel was different than hearing about it. Her stomach knotted and her pulse quickened.
“Push in the clutch…” Spencer waited for her to do it. “Okay, put it into first gear.”
Liv maneuvered the gearshift. “There?”
“Yep. Now slowly ease off the clutch and give it some gas.”
The first three times, the car stalled out. On the fourth try, she was able to keep the engine running. After a half mile or so of barely moving, she decided to try second gear. Only the gearshift wasn’t cooperating. It made a horrible grinding noise as she tried to force it into place. “It’s not going.”
Spencer put his hand over hers and helped her glide it into place.
She let out the clutch and drove farther down the deserted back road. “This is pretty fun.”
Drops of rain hit the windshield. At first it was just a few, then more and more splattered against the glass. In a dreamlike trance, she watched the water roll down.
Rain pelted her windshield. Everything was so blurry. Liv wiped the tears from her cheeks, then scooted forward, straining to see through the rain. Her wipers never got that one stripe in her line of sight. She turned the knob so they would go faster, but instead of the wipers speeding up, everything went dark.
Headlights cut through the black. They were coming at her. Coming fast.
She slammed on the brakes, hard as she could.
The car shuddered to a stop. Her breaths came out in ragged gasps.
“Whoa,” Spencer said. “What happened?”
Nothing but desert was in front of her. The rain wasn’t even heavy enough to need the wipers. But that car coming for her…
It seemed so real.
Before she could stop them, tears filled her eyes.
Spencer put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s not a big deal. Getting the clutch down is tricky.”
“It’s not that. The rain…and the car was coming…” Sitting in the seat felt suffocating, and she had to get out. She undid her seat belt, threw open the door, and stepped away from the car.
Drops of rain landed on her head and arms. She tipped her head to the sky and closed her eyes. Over and over, she saw the headlights coming for her.
She felt a hand on her back. She opened her eyes and looked at Spencer.
“What happened?” he asked.
“Driving and the rain, it triggered something. I think it was a memory. Of right before my car accident.” She shook her head. “Just when I decide to stop worrying about my lost memories, one slams into me.”
“Well, maybe that’s a good sign. Maybe you’ll get more and more back.”
That thought no longer comforted her; in fact, it terrified her. Because something felt very, very wrong. Because if that memory had been real—if she’d crashed into another car and not a tree—it meant Mom and Dad had lied to her.
And if they had lied…
34
Every nerve in her body was on alert. She was dizzy and nauseous; a sharp pain shot across her head.
We moved halfway across the nation; they were all about a fresh start; they’re always weird when I ask about the past. Everything she’d overheard Mom and Dad say, the voices and visions. She’d suspected it all along, but now there was no denying that something awful had happened. An awful so huge that they’d fled from their old life.
“You look like you’re going to pass out.” Spencer’s arm came around her waist.
Her knees felt like they were going to give way.
Spencer’s grip tightened. “There’s too much cactus to sit you down here. Let’s get back to the car.”
What could be so horrible that my parents would do anything to keep it from me?
Spencer eased her onto the hood of his car and sat next to her. “You’re starting to scare me. I’m not really sure what to do right now.”
“Sorry.” She leaned her head on his shoulder and he put his arm around her. “I’m okay. I just need a minute. I’m…” Well, she wasn’t exactly sure what she was. “Overwhelmed.”
“Is it like in the movies, where you suddenly remember everything?”
“No, nothing like that. I don’t know if that would be good or bad.”
For a moment, they sat in silence. Spencer pointed across the horizon. “You see the rainbow?”
Red, yellow, blue, and violet striped through the gray sky. “I guess we can cross two things off the list. Seeing my first rainbow and driving.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t say you know how to drive just yet.”
“Thanks for that,” she said, elbowing him.
“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” Using the arm around her shoulders, he pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. “Come on. We’ll go for ice cream. Ice cream makes everything better.”
She wished ice cream could erase the memory of the car coming at her. She knew it wouldn’t, but when Spencer slid off the hood and extended his hand, she took it.
…
Getting ice cream had made her feel better for a little while. What was even more effective was sitting in Spencer’s car, kissing him until her lips tingled and she was short of breath.
But as soon as she started up the sidewalk to her house, everything felt wrong again. From the outside, it looked like the perfect house with the perfect family living there. She remembered when she was always on the inside looking out. Now that she was on the outside, she could see everything about to crack.
What’s going to be left when it does?
The sense of wrongness increased the second she walked inside. This was supposed to be her safe place; right now, it felt like she was standing on a ledge and might slip at any moment.
Mom stepped out of the kitchen. “I was about to call you. Dinner’s almost ready.”
The progress they’d made yeste
rday, the heart-to-heart—all of it felt false now. She couldn’t look at Mom, didn’t want to be around her. “I’m not hungry. Spencer and I had ice cream.”
“I don’t like you ruining your appetite with junk.”
Well, I don’t like that you and Dad lie to me.
She couldn’t say that out loud, though. What if she’d gotten the image from a movie or something and just didn’t realize it?
That sounds like something Mom would say to explain it all away.
But she knows the brain better than I do. Who am I to question a brilliant neurologist?
At this point, she was actually hoping it was a false memory. There had to be a way to be sure. Only she no longer trusted the two people who could tell her the truth.
She looked at Mom, who had a worried look on her face as she gave her the once-over. What are you not telling me?
“Olivia, did you hear what I said?”
Clenching her jaw to fight the fiery anger building up in her, Liv put her hand on her stomach. “You know, you’re right. I shouldn’t have had that ice cream. I’m going to go to my room and lie down for a little bit.”
Before the accusations flew from her mouth or Mom could say anything else, she rushed upstairs. Her mind spun for a way to find out more on her own. She paused outside the office door, glanced over her shoulder, then ducked inside.
Liv pulled open drawers, riffling through papers, trying to find anything that might lead her to the truth. Home documents, receipts—a bunch of files that didn’t give her any answers. She shoved them back and saw a flat black box.
It thumped against the side of the drawer as she lifted it out by the handle.
On top of the box was silver, a lock on the left and a keypad on the right, with a large knob in the middle. She twisted the knob. Nothing. She pulled, tugged, and tried to use a letter opener. But the lock remained set.
After banging her fist against it a couple times—that didn’t work, either—she stared at it, trying to figure out how she could get inside. She jerked up her head when she heard a knock, not on the office door, but down the hall.
“Livie?” Dad knocked again. It would only take him a couple of seconds to find out she wasn’t in her room.
Heart racing, she shoved the box back in the drawer. She heard Dad’s approaching footsteps and tried to slam the drawer, but the box was sticking up, the corner catching.
“Livie, are you in there?” The doorknob twisted.
Liv forced down the box and kicked the drawer closed as the door swung open. She shot out of her seat, sure guilt was written all over her face. For a moment, she and Dad regarded each other, a strange silence between them.
“I was using the computer.” She pointed at it, like he wouldn’t know what she was talking about, then added, “For school.”
Dad shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. “Mom wanted me to try to get you to come down for dinner.”
“Like I told Mom, I’m not hungry.” Her heart squeezed as she looked at Dad. He’d always been her rock, the guy she knew she could count on. But now…she didn’t know anything anymore. “Besides, I’ve got lots of homework I need to get done.”
She started out the door, but he stepped into her path. “Everything okay?”
Tears crawled up her throat. No, it wasn’t. “I just had a long day. Good night, Dad.”
“Good night.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Love you.”
Liv kept her lips clamped, unable to say it back. Not now. She wasn’t sure if she’d yell or cry. She pushed past him, went into her room, and lay back on the bed.
The illusion that had been passing for her life was fading now, faster and faster with her suspicions confirmed about her parents lying to her.
Now all she had to do was uncover the truth.
And hope there was something left of her when she was done.
…
Liv asked the couple seated in the booth if they needed anything else. When they said they didn’t, she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, placed the bill on the table, and smiled. “Have a good night, then.”
She walked past the frosted glass divider with the etched catfish, lily pads, and cherry blossoms, and stopped in front of the golden, chubby Buddha statue. The silver charms on her bracelet clanked against the statue as she rubbed his belly. In theory, rubbing Buddha’s belly was good luck; in reality, she hadn’t noticed much change in her life, but she kept doing it anyway. She needed all the luck she could get.
She dropped her hand and headed to the red booth in the corner, where Huan was waiting for her.
She sat down and glanced at her watch.
Five more minutes and I’m out of here.
“So, what were we on?” Liv asked.
Huan brushed his straight black hair out of his eyes. “You need eight in a row to win.”
She set the end of the chopstick on the table. She smacked the end of it and caught it in the air. “You’re going down.”
She repeated the flip-and-catch six more times. She set up for the eighth attempt. The attempt that would make her tonight’s champion.
Huan’s gaze drifted to the door. “Your boyfriend’s here. He doesn’t look very happy.”
Liv looked to the door and saw Jace. She held up a finger, then turned her attention back to the chopstick. Focusing on it, she smacked the end. It flipped in the air but went too low. She tried to catch it anyway, but she wasn’t fast enough. It bounced off the table to the floor. “Dang it!”
“Nice try,” Huan said. “We’ll have a rematch tomorrow.”
“You’re on.” She picked up the chopstick and tossed it on the table, then hurried to the back. She punched out, told Mrs. Táo good night, and walked up front to where Jace was waiting.
His brows were furrowed, his jaw set. “Why are you always flirting with him?”
“Not this again. Like I’ve told you a million times, Huan and I just pass the time together. You making a big deal about it is starting to get old.”
“Walking in and seeing you two together is starting to get old.”
Knowing this was an argument that could go on for hours, she asked, “Can we get going already? We’re late enough as it is.”
She pulled her hood up, hoping it’d keep her dry from the rain coming down outside.
Jace grabbed her hand and headed out of Táo’s Restaurant, taking large strides she could hardly keep up with. A bolt of lightning tore through the sky, followed by a loud clap of thunder.
When they reached the parking lot, Jace turned to her. “My truck’s low on gas.”
Liv dug her keys out of her pocket. “We can take my car, then.”
He grabbed two cases of beer out of his truck and transferred them to the back of her white 1988 Pontiac Grand Am. He took the keys from her, and they got into the car.
She twisted toward him, leaning her back on the car door. “So how was practice?”
“Rainy.”
Looks like he’s in a mood again. At least once we get to the party, Courtney will be there.
The rain got heavier, coming down in thick sheets, and by the time Jace pulled up to Martin’s, water ran down the edge of the roads, and there were puddles everywhere.
Jace handed her a case of beer and carried the other one inside. The party was already in full swing. Music blared; empty beer bottles were everywhere. She spotted Courtney in the corner.
“You made it!” Courtney stood up, stumbled over, and threw her arms around her. “I’m so wasted.”
Liv turned her head away from her friend’s alcohol-saturated breath. “I noticed.”
“I probably should slow down.” Courtney thrust the cup toward her. “Here, it’s cran and vodka. You can have the rest.”
After downing the contents of Courtney’s cup, Liv grabbed a beer and settled on the couch. Tonight’s dinner rush had exhausted her. Working at Táo’s was part of her plan to get out of this town and away from Mom. It was also the only way she could afford
to buy clothes she wouldn’t be embarrassed of wearing in public.
As she sat, drinking her beer, people wandered in and out of the room. By the time she finished it, her head felt pleasantly fuzzy. She hadn’t seen Jace in a while, and decided she should go try to make up with him. Half the time she liked that he got jealous, and half the time she hated it. But she loved him, and he was always there for her, especially when she needed to vent about Mom.
He wasn’t in the next room, or the kitchen.
“Have you seen Jace?” she asked Martin.
“I think he’s in the basement playing pool.”
She walked downstairs, turned the corner, and stared at Jace and Courtney. Kissing.
Courtney saw her first. She pulled away, eyes wide.
Liv spun away, charged up the stairs, and headed out of the house. The rain soaked through her sweatshirt in a matter of seconds. She got all the way to her car before realizing Jace still had her keys.
“Wait!” Jace yelled, coming out of the house. He ran across the yard to her. “It’s not what you think.”
“I saw you kissing her. It’s exactly what I think.”
“It didn’t mean anything, though. I was telling her I was mad at you, that I was sick of seeing you with Huan, and she came on to me.”
“It didn’t look like you were pushing her away.”
“It was just a drunken mistake. I don’t care about her; I care about you.”
Tears ran down her cheeks, mixing in with the rain. “You and Courtney were the only people I thought I could count on, and you both betrayed me.” She undid the clasp on her bracelet. “Take your stupid love bracelet,” she said, throwing it at him, “and never talk to me again.”
“Don’t be like that. You know I love you.”
He reached for her and she stepped back. “Just give me my keys.”
“You’ve had too much to drink.”
“Between catching you and Courtney and the pouring rain, I’m all sobered up.” She held out her hand. “Now, give them to me.”
Grumbling, he dug the keys out of his pocket. “Fine. Go, then!”
“I will!” Liv snatched them out of his hand and got into her car. Heading home wasn’t an option. Mom would be drunk and some random guy would be there. She started the engine. She tugged on her seat belt but it kept catching, so she gave up on it. She accelerated out of the driveway and headed toward the outskirts of town, with no set destination in mind.