Forgotten Lyrics: A Watersong Story

by Amanda Hocking

  “It’s not true what they’re saying about him,” Daniel said, lifting his head so his forlorn hazel eyes met hers. “In the paper, after the accident, they called John a drunk and said he partied all the time. And it’s not true.”

  “Okay,” Lydia said, because she wasn’t sure how else to respond. The John she knew in high school had been a partier, and the police report in the paper said he’d been drinking the night of the accident, but she wasn’t about to contradict Daniel. Not now.

  “I mean, he was drunk that night.” Daniel leaned back in the booth and rubbed his temple. “And he was drunk more often than he should’ve been. But that’s not all he was, and that’s not who he used to be.”

  “Who was he?” Lydia asked gently, encouraging Daniel to let out some of the things he was clearly keeping bottled up inside.

  “He was funny, and he was really generous, and he just wanted everyone to be happy.” His jaw was set, and Lydia thought Daniel was trying not to cry. “My old man left a couple years ago, but before he did, he used to drink all the time. He used to beat on my mom, but when he started coming after me, John would stand up to him. John would take it so I didn’t have to.

  “My dad was a mean drunk, but John wasn’t like that.” Daniel shook his head. “John was just trying to have fun. He just drank to escape when things got hard, and I know that it wasn’t the right way to do things. And I told John.”

  He wiped at his eye and leaned forward on the table. “I told him he shouldn’t drink so much. That night, when we went out to the boat, I told him not to, but he didn’t listen. And he was my older brother. What was I supposed to do?”

  Daniel looked at Lydia then with tears standing in his eyes. The anguish in his face was overwhelming. He so desperately needed the answers to his questions, to find some absolution for his brother’s mistakes, and for himself for being unable to save John.

  “You did everything you could.” Lydia reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “You did everything right. Your brother was a good guy, but he made a mistake that night, and that’s not your fault. And one mistake doesn’t make him a bad person.”

  “Sorry.” Daniel sniffled, then pulled his hand back, looking embarrassed by his display of emotion. “I just wish I remembered what happened better that night. So much of it is missing.”

  “Maybe I can help,” Lydia said. “What do you remember?”

  She made the offer before she thought about it, but now that she had, she wondered if it was such a good idea. She wanted to help him, but parts of the night felt like a blur to her, too. The only thing she remembered with real clarity was being at the hospital with him. She didn’t even know why she’d woken up in the middle of the night anymore.

  “I remember getting on the boat and then being out on the water. I was talking to Mackenzie,” Daniel said. “Then…the next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital with my mom and her telling me what happened.

  “I’ve pieced together a couple things from talking to Mackenzie—she was one of the girls on the boat that night,” Daniel explained. “She and her friend swam back to shore, while I stayed out looking for John, but I don’t remember any of that. The boat must’ve hit me, but I don’t know how or when.

  “And I guess I never found John, so I swam back to shore somehow.” He shook his head. “But that doesn’t feel right to me. I never would’ve left, not until I found John. I would’ve drowned out there before I gave up.”

  “Maybe someone helped you,” Lydia suggested, and something about that idea made her head tingle, as if deep down she knew she’d gotten it right. “We found you on the side of the road, but who’s to say another person hadn’t taken you that far, then run to get help? They probably just never came forward.”

  “Maybe,” Daniel said, and that seemed to satisfy him a bit.

  “I know things are hard now, and they don’t seem to make sense,” Lydia said. “What you’ve been through was really terrible, but you were really brave that night. Mackenzie told me how you saved her and helped her friend Zoë. And how old are you?”

  “Fifteen,” Daniel said.

  “You’re only fifteen,” Lydia said, genuinely impressed. “It hurts now, but it won’t always hurt. And you’re strong enough to make it through the pain.”

  “Yeah?” Daniel asked, and there was a hopeful glint in his eye, a little spark that proved he hadn’t given up yet.

  “Definitely.” Lydia smiled at him. “I’m really glad that I met you that night, and I’m even happier that I saw you today. You’re a really good guy, Daniel.”

  “You’re leaving?” Daniel asked as she got up. “Aren’t you gonna get some food?”

  “No, I was actually on my way to the library to visit a friend of mine who works there.” Lydia pointed to it. “Then I saw you, so I thought I’d stop in.”

  “I can buy you lunch,” Daniel said. “It’s the least I could do after you saved my life.”

  “I would, but I just ate. Maybe another time,” she said.

  “Sure,” Daniel said. Lydia had turned to walk away when he asked, “Hey…did I say anything that night?”

  She paused at the end of the booth and turned back to him. “No, not really. Why?”

  “I just feel like something’s missing, like something important happened, or…I don’t know how to explain it.”

  “Something did happen, and you can’t remember it,” Lydia pointed out.

  “No, I know, but it’s more than that. I get that I can’t remember stuff because of the head trauma, but this feels like something different.” He waited a beat before adding, “Almost…mystical.”

  Lydia tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

  “The best way I can describe is it’s like…it’s like I have a song stuck in my head, but I can’t remember the words,” Daniel tried to explain. “There’s like a fog blocking out the lyrics. They used to be right on the tip of my tongue, but the more time that passes since the accident, the more I forget them.”

  “You did sing something that night,” Lydia said, remembering the hospital room and Daniel’s half lyrics.

  “I did?” he asked hopefully.

  “Yeah. When you were in the hospital bed, after they’d fixed you up, I was checking on you, and you kept singing…” She stopped, trying to remember. “It was…something about tired, or…” She furrowed her brow in frustration. “Now I can’t remember. I’m sorry.”

  He tried to cover up his disappointment. “It’s okay. It was a while ago.”

  “Yeah, it was,” Lydia said, but she didn’t think that was it. This felt like something different. Like a shadow had been cast over the memory, hiding it from her. “Well, I am sorry.”

  “Don’t be. You already helped enough,” he said.

  “Anyway, take care of yourself.” She smiled at him, then walked away. She’d made it a booth down before she changed her mind and turned back to him. “Be careful. My grandma has always said that Capri attracts all kinds of trouble. And I wouldn’t want any trouble to get after you.”

  “I will be careful,” he assured her. “And you be careful, too.”

  Epilogue: June of This Year

  “Aggie, just come back and talk to us,” Thea insisted from behind her, but Aggie refused to turn around and face her sister.

  The rocks poked sharply into her feet, but Aggie didn’t mind. Most of Anthemusa Bay was surrounded by soft beaches or docks, but at the south end, the coast was lined with cypress trees and jagged rocks up to the cove at the mouth of the bay.

  Her sisters Thea and Penn had taken her out tonight “to talk,” leaving their other sister, Lexi, behind. Penn kept trying to talk her into going out to the cove, but Aggie refused to go any farther. She liked the way the rocks felt underneath her feet as she stood at the edge of the bay, with the water just lapping up to her ankles, making her skin flutter and tingle.

  If this was how things had to be, then this was where she wanted it to happen.

&nbs
p; Above her, the moon shone brightly, with only a thin black crescent missing from it. The night felt still, almost eerily so, and Aggie tried to relish the moment, cherishing the tranquillity of the water around her, the stars above her, even the scent of the ocean and the trees.

  Out in the bay, between where she stood and the cove, she could see the jagged rocks jutting out from the water, marked off by lighted buoys. It was here in this bay she’d swum five years ago, rescuing a boy she was afraid would get her caught.

  In fact, none of her sisters had ever found out about her clandestine trip to Capri. She hadn’t met many people, and those she had, she’d tried to make forget her. Still, when the sirens had moved here at Penn’s insistence a few weeks ago, she’d made sure to go by the name Arista, so she couldn’t trigger any memories.

  She’d done all these things to keep herself safe, to keep her small treasons hidden. But in the end, it didn’t matter. Penn never found out about her clandestine visit, and here they were anyway.

  “Aggie,” Penn called to her, and her voice was too sweet, too lyrical.

  Every word Penn had spoken to her in the past few months had been dripping with venom. That was how Aggie knew tonight was the night. Penn hadn’t been this nice to her since…well, since before Aggie could even remember anymore.

  “I didn’t want to come here, Penn,” Aggie said finally.

  “You’ve come this far,” Penn said. “Why not go a little farther?”

  Aggie heard the splash of water as Penn walked by, going out deeper until the gentle waves were rolling past her. Then Penn turned to face her, and despite all Penn’s attempts to look sweet and innocent, Aggie could still the wicked glint in her sister’s dark eyes. The moon shimmered on Penn’s long raven hair, reminding Aggie of the way the light reflected on the waves.

  “Let’s go for a swim,” Penn said in the same sweet way she had earlier.

  “Come on, Aggie,” Thea chimed in, but her huskier tones weren’t able to fully cover up her unease.

  Thea walked out into the edge of the water and stood next to Aggie. She tried to give Aggie a reassuring smile, but it faltered just slightly. Besides that, Aggie knew her well enough that she could see the intention in her sister’s eyes.

  “I expected this from Penn,” Aggie said, casting a cold gaze on Thea. “But from you? You’ve betrayed me, Thea.”

  “I—I…” Thea stammered. “This isn’t my fault.”

  “Nothing ever is,” Aggie replied.

  “I told you that you needed to stop it and try to get along with her, but you didn’t. You just kept provoking her!” Thea insisted.

  “It’s true,” Penn said, and any trace of sweetness had disappeared, although she could never completely lose the velvet edge to her words. “You’ve been a real bitch, Aggie.”

  Aggie snapped her head to the side, turning her glare to Penn. “Why? Because I didn’t want to destroy everything around me just because I can? Because I decided I didn’t have to live like that anymore?”

  “You will live however I tell you to live, and you’ll like it,” Penn said, a smile twisting up the corners of her full lips.

  “You are such a bitch,” Aggie groaned. “And I am so sick of doing things just because that’s the way you say they should be.”

  “And I am so sick of you!” Penn shouted, and her dark eyes shifted into yellow-green, changing their shape slightly. “I’m so sick of all your whining and complaining and all your stupid crap! You are so holier than thou it’s disgusting. You’ve forgotten your place.”

  “My place? I am your older sister, Peisinoe!” Aggie shouted, refusing to be deterred. She’d bitten her tongue so many times before, she was surprised she hadn’t bitten it right off, and she wouldn’t do it anymore. “Or have you forgotten? Have you forgotten everything we were?”

  “Peisinoe?” Penn laughed darkly at her old name and began walking through the water toward her, her long strides leaving a rippling wake.

  “Arista. Adria. Aglaope.” Penn listed names that Aggie had once gone by. “Aggie, my dear naïve sister. Who gives a crap who we were lifetimes ago? Do you remember who we are?”

  Penn stopped right in front of her. She was so close that, to onlookers, it might appear that they were about to kiss, but Penn’s smile was far too vicious for that and her teeth were much too sharp.

  “I am not you.” Aggie raised her chin defiantly. “I am not like you, and I never will be. I’m only sorry it took me so long to realize how much of a monster you truly are.”

  “Penn, maybe we shouldn’t do this,” Thea said, trying to interrupt. “The moon is almost full.”

  “Thea, either help me or shut up and stay out of my way,” Penn snarled.

  Penn’s yellow-green eyes were far more animal than human, but they were more soulless than any creature on earth. As Aggie stared into them, refusing to look away or even blink, she knew that Thea was standing beside her, and she hoped that for once—just one time—Thea would do the right thing and stand with her.

  But then she heard the sound of the water splashing, and her heart sank. Thea had retreated back onto the land, leaving Aggie alone with Penn, and she knew she wasn’t coming out of this alive.

  “If you’re gonna kill me, then just kill me,” Aggie said. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life staring into your dead eyes.”

  “As you wish.” Penn smiled wider, revealing more teeth than a beautiful girl like her should have. “But I want you to know that I’m going to enjoy this.”

  “I know,” Aggie said. “And I want you to know that I’ll see you in hell.”

  Penn laughed, a dark cackling sound, and that was the last thing Aggie ever head. She didn’t want to see her sister coming at her, so she looked up, staring toward the heavens, when Penn attacked her, ripping her life from her.

  Aggie fell back into the waves, her blood mixing with the ocean she’d loved so deeply, and her eyes were open, staring up to the moon above. As the life drained from her, she sank beneath the surface and the water filled her empty lungs. For the first time since she was human, Aggie felt at peace.

  Also by Amanda Hocking

  Switched

  Torn

  Ascend

  Wake

  About the Author

  Photo Credit: Mariah Paaverud with Chimera Photography LLC

  AMANDA HOCKING is the author of the New York Times bestselling Trylle trilogy and six additional self-published novels. She made international headlines by selling more than a million copies of her self-published books, primarily in e-book format. She lives in Minnesota, where she’s at work on the next book in the Watersong series.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this story are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  FORGOTTEN LYRICS. Copyright © 2012 by Amanda Hocking. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.

  www.stmartins.com

  Cover design by Lisa Marie Pompilio

  Cover photograph by Zak Kendal/Getty Images

  ISBN: 978-1-250-03197-6