The Amnesia Twins

Chapter Fifteen: Lemonade, Wine, and Apple Cider

"The quadratic formula, Vi," Aiden said. "What is it?"

Violet racked her brain. "I'm sorry, but I really don't remember."

Aiden sighed. "Ever since you wacked your head you've been terrible at math. You used to be able to solve a complex equation in your head after you just looked at it. Now--"

Mina busted open Aiden's door. "OH. MY GOD. VI! Is it true?"

"Is what true?" Aiden asked?"

Mina squealed. "Why did you tell me?!"

"I was going to." Violet rubbed the back of her neck and wore an apologetic grin.

"Tell her what?"

"Greg and I are official now."

"WOO!" Mina screamed and danced.

"You've only been dating for two weeks," Aiden groaned.

Violet leaned back and gazed at the ceiling. "When you know, you know. Anyway, he's coming over for dinner tonight."

"Can't wait," Mina winked.

"I'm not going," Aiden said.

"You're going." Mrs. Lovato walked in. "I will not have my son disrespect a Pritchett. Even if you aren't technically my son, Aiden. This is going to be great for our family, and you'll attend. You'll do more than just attend. You'll be friendly, inviting, and polite. Entiendes?"

Aiden leaned back in his chair in defeat. "Entiendo."

"Good. Now go help your father in the kitchen."

Aiden did as told, and Mrs. Lovato left the room. It was just Violet and Mina.

"Oh my God, Vi. I can't believe you're with Greg," Mina said. "What's it like?" She took a sip of some lemonade on the desk.

Violet smiled. "He's so sweet, Mina. And he's so thoughtful and gorgeous. He's almost as gorgeous as Aiden."

Mina did a spit take all over Aiden's floor. "What?"

Violet gasped at the lemonade splatter on the wooden floor in horror. She grabbed a towel and cleaned it up. "Gee, Mina. Be more careful next time."

"You mean next time you compare your boyfriend to our brother?"

"Gosh, I didn't mean it like that. Aiden's handsome, and I mean that in an objective way."
"Okay then?" Mina shook it off. "Speaking of Aiden, how are you guys?"

Violet exhaled. "Not good. He always keeps telling me 'before you were like this', 'before you were like that'. I can't win with him. He misses the old me too much."

"Well, you need to tell him what's what."

"What do you mean?"

"Tell him that this is who you are now. Take it or leave it."

"I couldn't do that . . ."

"Yes you could. How do you feel every time he tells you those things?"

"I feel awful, but I don't blame him."

"But he shouldn't blame you either though. Was it your fault a drunk driver hurled himself at you? Is it your fault you aren't a math genius? Is it your fault that you were someone else before you got head trauma? You did your best. You played nice. The time to play nice is over. If you want respect, you have to fight for it. The world doesn't punish the bad, or punish the good. It punishes the ones that don't fight for a better fate."