Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
“It’s only been an hour.”
“Well, the comfort of home for the win.”
We chuckle, and Cameron begins biting at her nails.
“What’s wrong?”
She frowns. “I’m nervous for you.”
“Don’t be. I feel fine.”
“You’re still having panic attacks, Ari. How are we supposed to go to class, not knowing if you’re okay on the way to your own?”
“You can’t babysit me all the time, Cameron.”
“I know, but… what are we going to say to people in our building? Should we make like a photo diagram like they did in The Parent Trap, so you can pretend you know them? I mean, is that even allowed? Would the school be okay with you as a second semester student when you don’t remember the first? What if you fail? Get kicked out?”
“Whoa.” I laugh lightly, sitting up, and she follows. “Chill, okay. Seriously. It’s going to be fine. I’m—” Over her shoulder, I spot a calendar tacked to the wall.
“Ari?” She shifts on the bed, looking where I am. “Oh my god,” she gasps, jumping up and tears it from the wall. She tugs it into her chest and then I’m standing on the bed.
“Cameron.”
“Ari…” She shakes her head.
I jump off, my blood pressure rising. “Give it to me.”
Tears pool in her eyes and she closes them before handing it over.
Spinning away, I hold it out in front of me, and my limbs begin to shake.
My eyes are pulled to the bold blue letters, cased in with pink, purple, and yellow hearts over the date of January 19th, but it’s the words written in the small square box that sends a pulsing pain through my entire body.
Gala with Noah.
My breaths come in short, deep pants. Every ounce of air expelling with each puff and not nearly enough circulating back.
I grow lightheaded, fall to the floor and pull the cheetah print calendar closer.
My stomach lurches, and I groan. I look to Cameron.
“What the fuck is this?”
“Ari,” she cries.
“Cameron,” I snap, shaking the thing. “What the hell is this?”
Her shoulders fall, and with hesitant steps, she walks toward my closet.
She peeks at me, and then pushes the doors open, her chin falling to her chest.
Hanging there in the middle, and facing forward, as if I wanted to see it clear as day every time I stepped into this room, is a gown.
A sleek, side-shoulder mermaid-style gown.
It’s shiny and silky and a brilliantly beautiful… blue.
My hand comes up to cover my mouth, and I cry, burying my face.
Cameron falls before me, wrapping me in a hug. “I’m so sorry, but you asked us to promise not to say a word. We were just trying to follow your lead.”
“How could he… why didn’t… ” I growl, rip the sheet from the rest of the calendar, and jump to my feet. I’m out the door as fast as my feet will carry me.
“Ari, wait!” Cameron quickly follows.
I break out in a run, opting for the stairs, and soon, her shouts echo above me.
“Ari!”
But I’m already flying out of the exit.
The January air has a chill, but the sun is out and bright and warming by the minute.
I keep running.
Through the parking lot, around the coffee shop and across campus. I run until I’m standing three feet from Noah’s truck, Mason’s not far from it.
I charge forward just as Mason’s flying from the front door, his phone locked to his ear.
He spots me instantly and lowers his cell, tension written all over him. “Ari…”
I push him in the chest, and his hands lift.
“How could you let me become this girl?!”
“That’s not fair.”
“I told him I was going with Chase to that stupid dance, and he stared at me with this…” My ribs tighten. “Oh, god, this just brokenness and I didn’t get it and I thought he was just… sad and now I know it’s because of me. It was him, wasn’t it? He’s… he was…”
“Ari, you have to calm down.”
“I don’t want to calm down! I want to remember!” I cry. “I want my life back!”
My brother’s eyes water and he tugs me to him, holding me against his chest as our dad would do if he were here.
“I know you do, sister. I know.” He hesitates a moment, and then he looks down at me.
“I’m going in there, Mason. I need to talk to him.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I’m not sure of anything, so what could it hurt?”
“Him.”
I turn to find Cameron, her hands on her hips, breathing shallow.
She walks to us, a somberness on her face. “It could hurt him, and he’s been nothing but hurt since the day you were hit by that truck, which was on this street by the way. Right here, in front of this house.”
“Cameron,” Mason snaps, but she pushes on.
“It was right after their last game of the season, a loss in the playoffs. You came here to find him, but Chase found you first.”