I'D HOPED THAT the attention would shift from my arrival, but the moment we enter the classroom, all heads immediately turn in our direction, the whispers beginning instantaneously and spreading like wildfire. I steel myself, lifting my chin as I follow Zoe, keeping my eyes on the back of her head to keep them from wandering.
She takes a seat near the front of the room and I come to an abrupt halt when I realize there are no open seats next to her. She looks up at me apologetically, tipping her eyebrows upward.
"We have a seating chart," she explains, turning away from the front. "Yours is back there."
I follow where she's pointing with my eyes; an open seat near the back of the room. Giving her a stiff smile, I nod. "Thanks."
Reluctantly, I make my way to the seat, sighing as I slide into my designated spot. The boy beside me gives me a strange look I can't decipher, his jarring blue eyes digging into mine, and before I can process the intensity of his stare, the teacher enters the room and he looks away.
Feeling mildly frazzled, I set down my notebook and my copy of Hamlet on my desk. I focus my gaze on the teacher as he calls out a greeting to the class. He's a young man, most likely in his early thirties, and he's wearing trendy clothes paired with large, black-rimmed glasses.
"Good morning," he says, perching himself on the edge of his desk. "I won't waste too much time, let's get started by picking up where we last read."
The words send everyone into a slow frenzy, flipping through their books to find the right page, and I scramble for mine, a frown creasing my face as I follow the crowd in vain. I continue on like this for a while, long after everyone else has found the page and the teacher begins to read aloud.
I freeze when I feel eyes on the side of my face, my eyes darting up from the page. I slowly turn to my left, met with the same intense pair of blue eyes staring at me calculatingly. Somehow, the way he looks at me is in an entirely different league than the multitude of stares I've already received this morning.
When I don't break eye contact, he raises a thick eyebrow. "194," he says quietly, then returns his gaze to his book.
I nod gratefully, turning back to the book and flipping to the correct page, quickly matching what I'm seeing with what I'm hearing. It makes me feel a little more relaxed to be on the same page as everyone else, but I still feel unsettled by the gaze of the boy next to me, like an itch that won't go away, and it makes me squirm in my seat slightly.
I skim the words on the page, feeling unfocused, as I try to follow along.
Have you forgot me?
Lifting my eyes from the book, I look to my left tentatively, feeling distracted. He's not staring anymore, but with the way I'm feeling, he might as well be. I watch him worriedly for a while, until he notices and looks up. I don't look away, and his face is unreadable.
"Do you know me?" I finally ask in a whisper.
His mouth twitches. "Everyone knows you."
I purse my lips, displeased. "That's not what I meant."
"I know."
That's all I seem to be able to get out of him, as he drops his eyes to the book, ignoring me for the remainder of the class. But even when he's not looking at me, I can tell he's paying attention to me, and that's enough to keep my mind occupied, and to send Shakespeare's words flying way over my head. I fumble my way through the class, feeling unnerved, and when the bell finally rings, it feels like I can breathe easier.
The boy beside me is quick to exit the classroom, leaving before I can question him further. Sighing, I collect my things together and stand from my seat. Zoe is standing next to her desk, facing me with a bit of a smile on her face, before flipping her blonde locks over her shoulder. I return it briefly, making my way toward her.
We start to head for the door, before a voice stops me.
"Alina, do you mind staying behind a minute?"
I turn to face the teacher, watching me with an apologetic smile.
Zoe and I exchange a look before I meet his eyes again, nodding. "Not a problem."
"I'll find you at lunch," she promises, before leaving the classroom in a cloud of perfume.
He waits until the remainder of the students file out of the room, and I shift uncomfortably. Once the last student eventually exits, he closes the door quietly. He sighs, before looking at me sympathetically, taking up his perch on the edge of his desk.
"I'm sorry," he says, "I wasn't made aware of the fact you were coming back to school today. How are you doing? With everything?"
His question feels sincere, as does the concern in his hazel eyes, but the subject matter is the last thing I want to talk about right now. "I'm managing," I remark, choosing to keep it simple.
"That's all you can do," he says, nodding. "I want you to know you're more than welcome to spend some time here after school from now on and get caught up in your classes. I don't want you to be confused, and I assure you, all the other teachers will feel the same way."
"Thanks, Mr..." I trail off, uncertainly.
"Warren," he finishes helpfully.
I give him a smile. "Thanks, Mr. Warren."
He returns the smile momentarily, before frowning. "There are things we need to discuss regarding your grades, and track record with assignments... but we'll save that for when you're feeling a little more up to speed."
My eyebrows furrow, unsure what he means by the cryptic words. "Okay," I reply, not knowing what else to say.
"It's good to see you back in school, Alina," he says. "I know everyone was worried about you."
I spread my lips into a tiny smile, the best that I can manage, tucking some hair behind my ear.
"You should check in at the office to let them know you're here." He sees the look on my face, quickly adding, "It's right next to the entrance."
"Thank you," I mumble, clutching my books to my chest and quickly vacating the room.
After checking in at the office and getting my class schedule, I somehow manage to navigate to my next two classes, though I still feel lost and out of place in each one.
By the time lunch rolls around and I make it back to my locker, I'm already drained.
I open it with a flourish, after looking at the little piece of paper Zoe gave me with the combination scrawled across it. After I've shoved my books into the thing and closed it again, the girl herself reappears, as promised.
"Hey," I greet.
"What'd Mr. Warren want?" she asks in response, pretending to examine her nails.
"Nothing, really. He just wanted to welcome me back, and make sure I was okay." And allude to me being a bad student, but that's something to think about later.
She grunts, before setting her blue-eyed gaze on me, dropping her hand. "That's boring. Ready for lunch?"
Nodding, I follow her down the hallway, heading to the cafeteria. We don't make it very far before I notice the boy from English class among the throngs of people, dropping his books off at his locker. He seems to sense I'm looking at him, meeting my eyes briefly, before glancing at my companion. He looks at me once more, lifting an eyebrow, then turns away, heading in the opposite direction.
Before I can think about it, I'm reaching for Zoe's arm, trying to catch her attention before he disappears.
"Who is that?" I ask as she looks at me, jerking my chin in his direction.
She follows my eyes, making a noise of disgust. "Mason Byrne," she says bitterly. "Ignore him, everyone else does."
I watch as he vanishes around a corner, considering. I turn to look at Zoe as she narrows her eyes, face unreadable.
She recovers, her face clearing as she nods. "Let's go," she suggests, latching onto my wrist and pulling me with her to the cafeteria.
We make our way through the lunch line at a snail's pace. Nerves begin to dance in my stomach at the prospect of seeing the boys again. After what happened by the lockers this morning, I'm not sure that I want to. As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I spot Dylan sitting at a table with James, and suddenly I wish that the line would move slower.
But his face still lights up as Zoe and I approach, and he gives me a big grin as I take the seat across from him.
"Gentlemen," Zoe greets, gracefully sitting down at the table and setting down her tray.
James grins at me as well, leaning forward and resting his muscled arms on the table. "How's Allie surviving so far?"
Zoe gives him a withering look as she opens the container of dressing for her salad. "I'm fine, thanks for asking."
He raises a dark eyebrow. "Did you just get diagnosed with amnesia?" he asks, then continues on when she says nothing. "Didn't think so."
I can't help but smile at that, plucking a french fry from my plate. "I'm surviving," I reply, popping it into my mouth.
"Well, we're glad to have you back," Dylan says warmly.
"Especially me," James says, winking, earning a shove from the other boy.
He gives James an appraising look. "You know, it's remarkable how we're still friends, considering how you constantly hit on my girlfriend."
The word girlfriend makes me lose my appetite a little.
James shrugs, grinning again. "Nothing wrong with a little harmless flirting." He looks at me. "Right, Allie?"
"Speak for yourself," I quip, quirking a brow. Between Parker, Dylan, James, and God knows who else, I think it's wise to stay as far away from flirting as possible. "You confused the hell out of me this morning."
"Sorry, Al," James laughs. "That was out of line."
My eyes flicker to Dylan as I'm sure all of our minds wander to what happened after my encounter with James. He gives me a sympathetic small smile, and I don't know whether it's in reference to what I did, or to what his best friend did. The table falls silent, and I take the time to notice that most of the tables in the cafeteria are full, apart from ours. It piques my curiosity as I look around the room, seeing people cast surreptitious glances in our direction every now and then.
"Why doesn't anyone else sit with us?" I ask, figuring my condition gives me more than enough right to ask as many questions I want, no matter how prying they are.
Zoe quirks an eyebrow, her lips turning upward at some private joke. "We're exclusive," she remarks.
Her explanation does little to quell my question, and I turn to Dylan for a better one. He looks mildly uncomfortable, shrugging a shoulder and rubbing the back of his neck. "A little too exclusive," he elaborates. "So much so that I don't think people even want to be included anymore."
James takes a bite of his sandwich, looking amused. "I overheard Kim Shields call us 'the wolf pack' this morning in Algebra."
My face contorts into a frown. "What are we, some kind of cult?"
"Calm down, Allie," Zoe says condescendingly. "Who cares, anyway?" She turns to James. "Last week, I told Kim I liked her blouse, and you should've seen the look on her face. I've never seen someone want to be a wolf so badly."
I think of Mason's words in English class. Everyone knows you. The words were bitter, as if that was a bad thing. Maybe it is.
They continue with their lunchtime banter, but my mind leaves the table. I'm losing all hope that I'll ever learn something about my old self that I'll like.
The rest of lunch goes by in a blur, and soon we're collecting our trays and dumping the contents in the trash. Before we leave the cafeteria and go our separate ways, I decide to ask Dylan to stay behind.
"Dylan, wait," I call, fidgeting with my fingers.
He stops instantly at the sound of my voice, and we step out of the flow of traffic leaving the room.
"What is it?" he asks, looking at me intently.
I feel my eyebrows pulling together subconsciously, and I take a deep breath. "I'm really sorry about this morning." His expression changes slightly, looking a little more guarded. "I shouldn't have shoved you away like that."
His shoulders relax, and I let out a breath. "Allie, it's okay. You don't have to apologize. I was being too forward," he admits.
I give him a small smile. "I want to make this work," I say, though I'm not sure if that's true. "But I'm going to need some time. Get my head on straight, stuff like that."
"I understand," he says, nodding, though he looks sad.
My heart sinks a little. "So it's okay if we take things slow?" I ask, wanting to make myself clear. I feel vaguely as though I'm holding his heart in the palm of my hand, and with each word my grip is getting tighter.
"Of course," he emphasizes, and his hand twitches at his side, as if he was going to touch me, but then thought better of it. "I'm willing to wait."
My smile spreads, and I breathe a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Dylan."
He pauses a minute before adding, "Just don't make me wait forever."
✘✘✘
The end of the school day can't come fast enough, but when it does, I'm hit with the realization that I still have to come back here tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that.
The sun is bright, and I squint, trying to spot Audrey's car. I was offered a ride from Dylan, but I politely refused, reassuring him that my sister would be coming to get me. I was grateful for the excuse, since I've spent all my energy hanging out with them today, and don't know if I can handle being with them a minute longer, Dylan especially.
I had thought we were reaching common ground, but judging by the last thing he said to me in the cafeteria, we're still on different channels. I came to the conclusion that he's okay with the amnesia and my hesitancy—for now—so long as I eventually do regain my memory, or, alternatively, fall in love with him again. I'm uncertain of the likelihood of either of those things happening, but I don't have the heart to tell him that. Not yet, anyway.
I'm perched on a bench outside the school, surrounded by the sounds of laughter and chatter. I watch each person that passes, studying them. I know that everyone has secrets; all of these people do. But why are mine so awful?
When I spot what I assume to be Audrey's car pulling up to the curb, it takes everything in me not to run to it and jump inside before it even comes to a complete stop. I control the urge, standing from the bench and adjusting the strap of my backpack. I walk toward the car, and as I approach, I see the window rolling down.
I come to an abrupt halt a few feet away from the vehicle when I see who's inside.
Parker.
He's donned in a black baseball cap and a red flannel, looking more attractive than I care to admit. He turns to look at me, grimacing apologetically.
"Hey," he says simply.
"What are you doing here?" I question, my voice not as strong as I'd like it to be.
"I'm picking you up," he explains, though the answer was already obvious. "Audrey got called in to cover a shift at work last minute."
I close my eyes, breathing deeply and gritting my teeth.
"Hey, it wasn't my idea," he says defensively, "but I'm the only one around."
We're locked in a staring contest for several moments, before the car waiting behind Audrey's honks, jolting us back to reality. I flinch slightly, letting down my guard. Parker looks over his shoulder before looking back at me again. His face is defeated, and I can tell he really is only here because Audrey asked him to, not because of any ulterior motives.
"Look," he begins, "You can either get in the car, or walk home, but you've got to make a decision quickly."
I briefly consider walking home, but decide to be the bigger person, sighing and getting into the car without a word. He waits until I'm buckled to pull away from the curb, and the car is silent.
My heart is hammering in my chest, and I wish he would turn on the radio. I don't like the idea of being alone with him again. He doesn't speak, doesn't even look at me, until we've vacated the school parking lot. It feels like the air is filled with words he wants to say.
After a pause, he says, "She also asked me to show you around town."
"No."
"You're welcome to figure things out on your own, but I thought I'd show you one of your favourite places," he says, his voice getting soft. "It might help."
I look at him out of the corner of my eye, trying to gauge his intentions, but he keeps his eyes on the road, and I can't read his face. I consider the proposition, chewing on my lip. The idea makes enough sense, and I can't deny I'm curious to learn more about myself, hoping that this time it'll be something good.
After a pause, I make up my mind. "Fine," I say begrudgingly, sighing and placing my elbow on the edge of the window, leaning my head in my hand. "Lead the way."
He nods once, looking satisfied. "You got it."