Immediately, I’d realized. The very moment I saw him, I was aware that nothing had changed. And his hesitant expression at the sight of me sitting there waiting, hurt more than anything.
In place of the warm and welcoming smile that I’d so desperately hoped for was the familiar frown that told me everything I needed to know.
Even though his grandmother had tried to gently prod him in an attempt to bring some memories back, he had shaken his head in dismay.
And not wanting to upset him further, I had left the room. He was clearly uncomfortable with me being there and I could see that my own visibly distraught reaction was only making things worse.
His doctor told me that it was essential to take things slowly. One day at a time he said.
“Apart from his broken arm and the memory loss, he seems to be recovering very well. So I see no reason why he can’t return to school next week. Perhaps that will also help to stimulate his memories. That could be just the trigger he needs.”
And so I had to cling to the hope that on his return to school, everything would go back to normal. His face would light up every time he saw me and rather than the stare of a stranger, he would move quickly towards me with that beautiful smile that I loved so much.
That was what I had to focus on. And fighting away the concern that I’d be one of the few people at school who he did not remember, I concentrated on Millie’s words, repeating them once more in my head, “You get what you focus on!”
And so, I spent the hours that followed, attempting to visualize in my mind, the image I wanted to see in real life.
This was constantly interrupted however, by the persistent sound of the downstairs phone which continued to ring. To begin with, Matt had climbed the stairs to my door, quietly opening it to see if I was awake and able to take the call, which was obviously from someone ringing for an update. But I pretended to be asleep and waited impatiently for him to close the door again. Although grateful that so many people cared, I was in no mood to talk and decided to let Matt tell them the details. After all, there wasn’t too much to report, was there?
Ky didn’t remember me. It was as simple as that.
From my bedroom, I could hear Matt’s muffled voice on the phone downstairs and was able to make out the identity of each caller and the basics of his conversation. Each time the dialogue was pretty much the same. Except for when Dad rang. That phone call was much longer than the rest and I could hear Matt’s convincing tone, reassuring Dad that he’d keep an eye on me.
“I’ll be okay,” I thought to myself. “I just need to be patient.”
That was what the doctor had said before I left the hospital, his voice gentle but firm as he patted me sympathetically on the shoulder.
And then I’d made my way via the long corridors of the hospital and down the stairs to wait for Matt to arrive, all the while, desperately trying to fend off the fear that clung tightly to the pit of my stomach. I could still feel it there, several hours later, as I tossed and turned in my bed. That nauseating sick feeling of dread.
Yes, his memory may come back. And yes, that was what I needed to focus on.
But what if it never returned? What if he was never able to recall our time together?
What would happen then?
Unwelcome news…
When Ky returned to school the following week, I watched from afar, too nervous and anxious to approach him. I hadn’t been back to the hospital at all since my previous visit. After all, what was the point? My presence only seemed to agitate him, and the whole scenario was just too upsetting for me to even contemplate. So I took his grandmother’s advice and decided to give him some space; hoping of course that he might call or text me. But that never happened. I didn’t hear a word.
During that time though, I did some research. Lots of it. And instead of studying for my upcoming exams, I spent hours searching the Internet for some insight into Ky’s condition.
Initially, I’d begun to feel slightly more at ease. The more I searched, the more I felt convinced that his memory loss would only be temporary. Apparently amnesia was very common for people with head injuries and while some forgot only a few minutes of their experiences prior to an accident, others lost a much bigger chunk. However, as each person’s recovery took place, the memories tended to return.
I tried to convince myself that this would be the case with Ky. But when the days passed by and there was still no word of any progress, I began to feel doubtful.
This feeling was worsened when his grandmother called to give me an update; one that did nothing to improve my outlook. Unfortunately the news was not good as there had been no improvement whatsoever. And that was when I really started to worry.
“I’ve mentioned your name a few times, Julia and talked about some of the things that you’ve done together. But Ky has no recollection at all.”
I stood listening to her gentle voice on the other end of the phone, but all I could do was utter a deep sigh, the disappointment in my voice was raw.
“Don’t worry, darling,” she continued. “I’m sure that once he’s back at school, all the pieces of the puzzle will begin to fit together.”
It was after that phone call that I decided to do another internet search, desperate to look for something I could do to help. It was time to become proactive. Surely there was something that could be done to help bring the memories back. But rather than finding a cure, I managed to locate an article that described something else entirely and it was information that I wished I hadn’t found at all.
The article was a doctor’s account of various patients he had treated, each of whom had suffered from a condition known as retrograde amnesia, which is the official term for Ky’s type of memory loss. The article had gone on to explain that the less severe a head injury was, the better the chance of a full recovery.
However, in one particular incident where a man was hit by a speeding car and suffered a very traumatic blow to the head, an accident that sounded very similar to Ky’s, the man lost all memory of the previous 12 months of his life. Several years later, it still hadn’t returned.
That was when I began to feel ill. 12 months! A full 12 months of memories that had been wiped, never to be remembered again.
The hands of fear clutched tightly at my stomach once more. And it was with dread that I made my way to school the following day, where as soon as I hopped off the bus, I spotted Ky’s blue car parked adjacent to the bus stop, in its usual place in the school carpark.
The scene felt surreal; it was as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred and that everything would go on as before.
But that was a pipe dream.
Because something very extraordinary had happened and how on earth could everything go on as it once had?
The worst part was though, I had absolutely no idea of what I could do to fix it.
The way we were…
Science class. My first lesson of the day and the one class that Ky and I shared.
Anxiously, I made my way through the open doorway and searched for a seat at the back of the room, half hoping that he wouldn’t notice me when he walked in but also hoping on the other hand, that he would.
Unfortunately though, Millie hadn’t arrived at school yet. She had texted me earlier to say that she was going to be late and probably wouldn’t arrive until morning break. I couldn’t believe my luck! If ever I needed her beside me, it was definitely right then.
Placing my backpack on the seat beside me, to prevent anyone from trying to claim it, I pretended to be looking inside it for something I’d misplaced. Although it was quite clear that my books and pens were all sitting on the bench top in front of me, I needed an excuse to occupy the chair so that it was available for Ky, just in case he chose to sit there. As anxious as I was, that was what I was really hoping for.
The lesson that day included a variety of experiments that we had to do in groups and Mr. Blandford already had the necessary equipment set up in preparation for us to use. Sev
eral kids had arranged themselves in readiness while others were still trying to get organized. In an attempt to avoid eye contact with anyone, I continued to focus on the contents of my bag when unexpectedly, I heard a male voice calling my name.
Looking towards the sound that had come from the front of the room, my heart momentarily skipped a beat. That was until I realized it wasn’t Ky who was calling out to me at all, but a boy named Jasper who was beckoning me to join him and the others at his table. It appeared that they were one person short and it was either me who they could ask or a very unpopular boy called Oliver.
Realizing that I had no other choice but to join them, I made my way towards the front and pulled up a stool alongside Jasper. Then, just as Mr. Blandford began to explain the procedure we were to follow, Ky walked into the room.
With my heart pounding wildly I glanced away, too nervous and embarrassed to even look at him. It seemed to be the most awkward moment of my life and I could not believe that it was happening. My so-called “boyfriend” had entered the class and I completely avoided making any sort of eye contact whatsoever.
What was wrong with me? Was that how I was going to handle the whole situation, by looking away every time he happened to be nearby? They were the thoughts racing through my head as I tried to focus on what the teacher was saying, but I found it impossible to concentrate.
Meanwhile, Ky had been directed by Mr. Blandford to take a seat at the table near ours so he could join Oliver and a couple of others who had also just arrived. Without trying to be obvious, I took a quick glance in his direction but he seemed focused on the teacher and what he was saying. It appeared quite clear that he hadn’t even noticed me.
From where I was seated though, I was able to keep an eye on him while pretending to listen to Mr. Blandford as he explained the instructions. That was, until I saw everyone in my group leave their seats in order to gather around the equipment that had been placed at the opposite end of our table.
Apparently, we’d just been given permission to begin the experiment which involved testing the chemical reaction of various liquids when combined together. We also needed to heat some of the mixtures using a Bunsen burner and take note of the results. The issue for me however, was that I had no idea of the procedure as I had not listened to a word Mr. Blandford had just said.
Then, to make matters worse, the others in my group decided to assign me as the note taker which I found frustrating because that job required concentration, something I was really struggling with right then. Instead, all I wanted to do was focus on Ky.
Soon realizing that this was just not going to work, I picked up my notebook in defeat and moved myself to a position where I could easily view what the others were doing. Then, taking notes as requested, I gradually became more involved in the activity and apart from the odd glance in Ky’s direction, was able to do a reasonable job. At least I hoped so, as everyone was relying on the fact that I’d jotted down the findings accurately. Without accurate notes, it would be very difficult to complete the follow-up report due later in the week.
When finally the lesson ended and I was able to make my way out the classroom door and into the corridor, I glanced quickly around in the hope that Ky might still be nearby. However, everyone seemed to be taking the opportunity for a quick chat in the hallway before our next class, and the area had become quite crowded. Just as I was about to move away, I heard his distinctive voice amidst the loud chatter. But when I followed the sound that I’d recognized so easily, much to my surprise, I found him deep in conversation with Jackie Armstrong.
The reason I found this unusual was that prior to his accident, Ky would often roll his eyes at Jackie and her group of friends, clearly not impressed by their attention seeking behavior. Jackie in particular was renowned for being a serious flirt and had a reputation for chasing and then dumping every good looking guy she came across. Apparently, Ky had been on her target list at one stage but back then, he had not been in the least bit interested.
From what I could see though, this was not the case anymore as he seemed completely taken in by the coy expression that was glued to her face while she laughed and fussed over whatever he was saying. Perhaps it was my imagination running wild and I’d misread the situation, but I was not at all comfortable with watching the two of them together.
With pangs of jealousy clawing relentlessly inside me, I turned abruptly in the opposite direction and headed towards my next class, the sick feeling in my stomach becoming worse with every step.
Later that morning, when the bell finally rang for morning recess, I headed outside to my usual lunch spot where I had arranged to meet Millie. Over the past week, she had been choosing to spend at least one break with my group of friends each day. This way she was able to hang out with me as well as her own friends, which seemed to suit everyone. And for this I was very grateful.
That morning however, I still hadn’t had a chance to talk to Ky. But the moment I sat down in the lunch area alongside Millie, everything suddenly changed.
“OMG!” she whispered frantically. “Look who’s heading this way.”
The second I followed her gaze and realized that Ky was walking towards us, I could feel my stomach drop. It seemed that for me, an anxiety attack had become the usual scenario whenever I saw him, or whenever his name was mentioned. And that particular instance was no exception.
Quickly averting my eyes, I forced myself to focus on the sandwich in my lap; the thought of him in my sights causing my head to spin and a flood of sweat to break out on my hands and forehead.
“OMG! OMG! OMG!” I muttered the words quietly under my breath, all the while keeping my eyes downcast as I listened to his approaching footsteps crunching noisily on the gravel path and getting louder with every step. Then just as I thought he was going to walk straight past, I heard Millie speak.
“Hi Ky. How are you?”
Her voice was loud and clear and there was no way for him to walk by without acknowledging us. I wasn’t sure exactly what he had intended, but he had no choice except to stop and talk.
Looking up, I could feel the flush of red on my face which I was sure deepened into an even brighter shade when Millie suggested that he sit down and join us. Shuffling along slightly to make room, she patted the seat next to her, indicating that he should sit there. It was the only vacant spot and I watched in disbelief as she babbled on. Obviously it was an attempt to ease the awkwardness of the moment, but I was in awe of the way she was able to chatter on as if absolutely nothing was wrong and everything was as it should be.
I couldn’t help but notice Ky’s look of discomfort, probably due to the fact that I was there. But with Millie’s incessant chatter, he appeared to relax somewhat. Her outgoing and friendly nature soon had him joining in the conversation and the tension in his face appeared to gradually melt away.
All the while, however, I sat listening in but saying very little. And Ky pretty much avoided all eye contact with me. The whole time, he just focused on Millie’s conversation and although she tried to include me, I’d become shy and introverted, unable to find the words I needed or wanted to say.
His memory loss was not mentioned. Millie avoided the topic and so did he. It seemed to be an unspoken taboo and although I was desperate to at least refer to it, the words remained unspoken. Deep down though, I already knew the answer. And while I did not want to admit it, beyond all doubt, I knew.
When I looked into his eyes, there was no sign of any connection between us. None whatsoever. And when the bell rang a short time later, he stood quickly, taking the opportunity to excuse himself and head back to class.
Looking at Millie in despair, I tried desperately to prevent the tears from falling. If I started crying, I was sure I would not be able to stop.
Ky seemed fully recovered. Apart from his broken arm, everything else about him appeared to be completely normal. Everything that was, except his relationship with me.
Would his memory ever return? Wo
uld we ever go back to being the way we were such a short time ago? Would he ever again smile that wonderful smile while looking at me?
Too many questions.
Questions that I was petrified of learning the answers to.
Feelings…
As the days progressed, nothing seemed to change. I went to classes each day, hung out with Millie and the others during breaks, and watched Ky from a distance…always from a distance.
There were several times that we passed each other in the corridors, heading to and from classes, but the atmosphere between us was awkward. There were even a few occasions where I watched him purposely turn to talk to one of his friends in order to avoid me.
How could it be so hard to have a simple conversation? The whole situation was just too strange to even comprehend. One thing I did notice though was that he seemed to be getting a lot of attention from other girls. Whether that was always the case, I had no idea. Only having met him a few months earlier, I didn’t know what went on beforehand as he had never really said very much about past girlfriends.
The attention from other girls was something I should not have been surprised about as he was so good looking. After all, his looks were what had attracted me in the first place. Those gorgeous features that lit up whenever he smiled were simply too special to ignore. It really was no wonder that so many girls were interested in him.
Funnily enough though, all this attention did not appear to faze him. And it certainly did not seem to be going to his head. Although he obviously took an interest in a few girls in particular, something that I was finding difficult to come to terms with, I could see that he was often unaware that so much female attention was being directed towards him. And that simple fact just made me love him even more.
Although he was clearly disinterested in my existence right then, I still had deep feelings for him. And all I could do was push through each day and live in hope that his memory would return. There was nothing I could do except hope and pray for things to go back to the way they once were.
Julia Jones - The Teenage Years: Boxed Set - Books 2, 3 and 4 Page 20
