Life After Life

•C h a p t e r T h r e e•

I tossed Avery's car keys onto my desk and plopped down onto my bed, letting out a deep sigh. Avery's car was parked on my driveway and she would take my motorcycle after class.

My mom was off at brunch, or maybe shopping for the newest collection of purses with her friends. And of course, my dad was at work. My brother... well, I didn't know where he was. The house was quiet — thankfully as it was our maid's day off.

Being in my room had always comforted me. It was my own space, where no one could be in here without my permission. I had chosen shades of beige and brown for the walls and furniture, and there was a walk in closet on one end of my room and a desk on the next.

My desk had always been a ruckus. My sheet music scattered over the surface of the desk, there were pencil shavings and eraser bits littered all around. The desk was my mom's bane of existence. My cello sat next to it.

I peeled myself off the bed, sitting straight up. There had to be a logical explanation as to how I could remember so much from two centuries ago, and I needed to know what it was.

Part of me wanted to ask Avery what she thought about all of this, but she would just believe that I was bluffing. I knew I would think that.

Maybe the best thing to do was just to forget about it. Maybe the man from school was just a person who looked exactly like Noah, and sounded exactly like Noah.

Except, he also knew who I was.

I shook off all the thoughts in my head. Yeah, if I didn't think about it, then it didn't exist. Perfect.

Out of habit I picked up my cello from next to the desk. No one was home, which meant my brother wouldn't be complaining about the music.

I let my fingers take it away as they played the notes and curled around the bow that strummed the chords. I played the first piece that came to mind, and the next, and the next, until my fingertips turned red.

I sprung up, turning around when a loud, high-pitched honk sounded from outside my window. I took a quick glance at the clock by my bedside to see that it was already noon. The honk sounded again, this time longer and more aggressive.

"Calm down, I'm coming," I muttered under my breath as I took a few quick strides to the window to see Avery on the driveway, leaning next to my motorcycle. Her classes must've ended already.

A light smile spread over my lips. My motorcycle was my pride and joy. It was a copper sport touring motorcycle that I spent hours picking out at the dealership — while I ignored my mom's snide comments about how unladylike it was to be riding on one.

I rummaged around my desk for Avery's keys but they must have been buried somewhere under the mounds of my sheet music. Finally, my hands closed around something metal. The keys. A wave of relief swept over me. I thought I'd lost them.

"You took too long so I came in," Avery walked into my room and fell onto my bed.

"It was like a minute," I rolled my eyes, sitting next to her. "You're so lucky, your classes actually end at twelve?"

"No, my professor didn't show up to my last class," she said absentmindedly as she scrolled through Instagram on her phone. She groaned, "No cute guys in my classes."

"I swear, you're only in school to meet guys," I rolled my eyes and she giggled, shrugging. "Anyways, thanks for bringing my motorcycle back."

"You should've just ridden it home," Avery replied, rolling her eyes.

"Well no, what if Hunter gets mad again?" I reasoned, I laying down next to her, eyeing the random photos of her followers.