by Emily Camp
“If you don’t leave …” I hated how my words cracked as I spoke.
Then something flashed in my mind. Red … no maroon, the dress I’d been wearing it was blurred. I closed my eyes to catch more of the vision, but it vanished as quickly as it came. The fear that it brought with it stayed.
Trey’s hands fell on my arms and that was when I screamed.
He flinched away from me, his stormy eyes wide. “You think I did this to you?”
I pulled my knees to my chest to create a barrier between us. I’m sure if he wanted to hurt me that wouldn’t make a difference, but it made me feel safer.
My door swung open not a moment too soon. I had expected to see Benji, since he was the one down the hall, but it was my dad. He looked at Trey then at me pressed against the wall. He didn’t have an expression I could read. He wasn’t angry that a half-naked boy was in my bed, or that I’d just screamed?
“I think you should go now, son,” he said.
Trey didn’t speak for what seemed like forever. He just stared at me as if my dad wasn’t even there.
“Sawyer, why don’t you wait out here while he gets dressed and gathers his things,” my dad said. I scrambled off my bed, straight for my dad. He closed the door behind us. “You all right?” He asked, not looking me in the eye.
“Yeah.” Now I was, though my heart was beating a million miles a minute.
Mr. Whiskers meowed as he rubbed against my dad’s leg. “Stupid cat.” He grumbled. It was the first time I’d heard him complain about anything to do with Benji or Janice. Then he scratched his chin and said, “I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”
What? He was leaving me? Just like that. No hug? No telling me it was going to be alright? Did I wake up in alternate universe too? Not just the future.
Mr. Whiskers walked to Benji’s door, looked up at me and meowed again.
When Trey opened my door, I jumped. His lips were in a thin line and he looked down at me. I saw a flash of something. It was his face, only instead of the messy wet hair he had right now, it was slicked back. And instead of wearing the royal blue football shirt that stretched across his biceps, he was in a tuxedo. In the memory my heart raced. The face he made was the exact one he was giving me right now. I blinked and the flashback was gone.
“I’m sorry.” He ran a hand over his damp hair, then acted like he was going to reach for me before he let his hand fall to his side. Mr. Whiskers meowed, Trey looked that way, but didn’t acknowledge the cat, “Can we talk?”
I didn’t answer him, instead I stood with my arms crossed and stared ahead.
Trey sighed, nodded, and then trudged down the hall. Was I supposed to feel something as I watched him walk away? I probably was, but how was I supposed to feel when I couldn’t remember a thing. I couldn’t remember loving him or even why I did.
Benji’s door finally opened and Mr. Whiskers sauntered in. I was glad for that, because the cat was getting on my nerves.
As soon as I heard Trey say bye to my dad and the front door shut I went back to my room. I curled up in my bed. The smell of Trey lingered. Though I didn’t remember being with him, there was a huge hole in my heart, that made me feel alone.
I lifted my phone. I don’t know why I wanted to torture myself, but I typed Henry’s name to search under the 900-plus friends I had. How did I even know that many people? It was as I’d feared. Out of all those friends, Henry wasn’t one of them. How could I have that many friends and not have my best friend?
I did a full site search for him. There were nine different Henry Nash’s, but only one from Ellsworth, Ohio. His profile was a sketch of some weird looking black symbol. My heart hammered as I clicked on his picture hoping that any trace of him would make me feel better. Then my heart plummeted. Nothing but a message stating ‘this profile is private’ came up. I couldn’t even look at him.
I slid out of bed and went to my closet. I felt around the shelf above my head until I found the shoe box. Jackpot. It was still there. Nothing could describe the relief I felt when I found something that was the same as before. I pulled the dusty box down and hurried to my bed. I sat, pulling my feet up under me. I sneezed before I opened it, the dust floating in the air.
It was full of Polaroids. I’d gotten the camera for my thirteenth birthday and went through so much film all the time. Henry complained about me always having it in his face. I figured I’d taken his pictures down when we quit being friends and put them in here. But as I riffled through the pictures, he wasn’t in here. Just more selfies and a few random pictures like a pair of sunglasses on a beach towel at the pool, a tube of lip gloss on my dresser, my feet clad in Converse. Not only was there no Henry, but there wasn’t any of Trey and my new friends. They were all on the wall. The only evidence that I’d been in this box the last three years was the absence of Henry.
Wait … I tossed the pictures on my bed and ran back to my closet. My yearbooks were lined up on the shelf, 9th, 10th and 11th grades were all here. I grabbed the stack, this time I didn’t bother going back to my bed. I sat on the floor in front of my closet.
I picked up 9th grade first, because that was the year I remembered. The Henry I remembered would be in there. I found class of 2020. I scanned the names on the side of the pictures, A, B, C, D until I got to M, Sawyer Montgomery. After all the names starting with Mc, I had to look at myself. This was the girl I expected to see when I looked in the mirror. The girl that I remembered. Frizzy hair, braces, and round cheeks.
Then his picture was right beside me as he always was, Henry Nash. But he wasn’t. Instead, his face was scribbled out with black marker. I opened my sophomore year book, the same thing. Only my picture was a cross between the girl I remembered and the girl in the mirror. Her hair sleek-straight, braces less noticeable and face a little slimmer. Again, Henry’s picture was scribbled out. In this one, Trey’s picture, which was just a couple pictures down from Henry, had a big red heart around it. His teeth were straight and bright, and his hair was just long enough that it was tussled on top but didn’t look shaggy.
When I got to my junior yearbook, my hair was silky, but this time in big curls and lighter than before. My braces were gone. I looked at myself in the mirror, under the bruising and dark eyes, I couldn’t deny that the new me wasn’t pretty. I just wish the new me wasn’t a stranger.
Henry’s picture was once again, blotted out with marker. There was a little ‘I’ and a heart above Trey’s picture. In this one he was in his football jersey. Other than the vandalism, the yearbook held no clues as to what happened to me and Henry. As I was closing the book a small rectangular card fell out. It had a stamp with the local flower shop on it. I picked it up and turned it over.
We’ve had our ups and downs, but you’ve been the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Happy two-years, Love you forever, Trey.
I turned it over again, but of course there was nothing there that hadn’t been there before. Two years? This was last year then. I’d been with Trey pretty much all of high school which was all that I couldn’t remember. When my phone rang, I jumped and the yearbook toppled to the floor.
I looked around my room as if someone was watching me, which was impossible. Then I picked up my phone. Nadia’s face lit up my screen her eyes were crossed and her tongue sticking out. It made me smile to think we weren’t always so serious. That if I had a friend like this then there was still a trace of the goofy fourteen-year-old I used to be.
“Hello?” I said.
“Hey, what’s up?”
I stared at my jumbled past sitting in front of me. “Nothing.”
“Trey called me.”
“Oh?” I picked up the yearbook.
“I said I didn’t want to get in the middle of it, but he’s really upset and you know me, I can’t stand to see a boy cry.”
I opened my mouth to remind her I didn’t know her, but then closed it. “I made him cry?”
“He’s hopeless. It’s romantic.”
“Um.” I opened the yearbook to his picture again. It wasn’t his fault I couldn’t remember.
“Look, you don’t have to tell me, but I’m here if you want to talk. You two have been together forever, it’s like you’re already married. If we had a senior personality, ‘most likely to be together forever’ you two would win, no contest.”
“Did you ever see us fight?”
She didn’t speak right away. Which I thought was odd considering she’d barely taken a breath since I picked up. “What couple doesn’t fight?” Her voice was a little bit quieter.
“Did I tell you why?”
“Um let me see, he constantly hums the Monday Night Football theme song, he talks about whatever sport is in season obsessively. He gets fixated all week over what team they’re playing on Friday night and makes you watch film with him. He doesn’t like sushi. He crunches loudly when he’s eating chips and you’re trying to read, oh and he leaves the toilet seat up. I think that caused a break up once. And there are times when he promises he’ll be there and doesn’t show up for hours and you have this thing about your house being creepy.”
“I sound horrible.”
“Guys are annoying?” though this time she didn’t sound as confident. Did she agree with me?
“Did he ever … hit me?”
“No, not that I know of. I already told the cops this.”
“The cops?”
“You were missing for three days. All of us were questioned.”
“All of us?”
“You know, Trey, me, Drew, Ryan, Brendan, Ambrosia. All your friends.”
All my friends? What about Henry?
Chapter 9
“I have to go. I’m meeting Trey at the library.” I said looking down at my phone.
“Trey, Trey, Trey.” Henry said in a squeaky tone, rolling his eyes as he stared at the television screen, a video game controller cradled in his hands.
“I don’t sound like that.” I stood up and put my phone in my back pocket. “How’s your project going anyway?”
Henry snorted. “Sure don’t have to work on it as much as you do. I bet you’re loving this, you get to work with Trey and I’m stuck with cheesy Chester.”
I felt guilty because I was paired with Trey, and didn’t mind. Henry and I usually did projects together when we chose our own partners, but the thing was, Henry usually made me do all the work. I shouldn’t feel guilty and he shouldn’t be making me feel this way.
“I can’t control who I’ve been paired with anymore than you can.” I said.
He turned back to his game and didn’t say another word.
“Bye.” I said, with no response. When I got to the bottom of the stairs to leave the basement I turned to him. “I don’t know what your problem is.” I hated that I wasn’t able to keep my voice from cracking.
His eyes were icy when he turned toward me. I just wanted to hang out like we always did, but today he was being a complete jerk. “Who was your date to homecoming when Trey didn’t even know you existed?”
That was like a punch to my gut. “Are you jealous?”
His knee bounced.
“You’re my best friend, but … I … we’re friends.”
He nodded. “You’re going to be late.”
I ran up the stairs, my heart in my stomach. I didn’t know what was going on with us. I didn’t want things to change. I wanted to be able to laugh together, hangout in the treehouse, and play games. Why did this have to change just because of my partner on the project? Did I swoon over Trey? Sure, but I doubted anything would happen beyond our project.
I was relieved though, when I reached the library doors and saw the message, I’m sorry, from Henry.
Chapter 10
When I woke up above the sheets, my journal was cracked open on my bed, a polaroid picture stuck to my cheek. Sunlight streamed in my window. I glanced at my phone. Crap. I was late for school. I gathered everything and stuffed it under my bed. I tossed my hair up in a messy bun and threw on some leggings and a hoodie. When I did a quick-mirror check, I noticed the football logo on the front. Then the hood had Oliver on it and the number 2, his jersey number. I didn’t have time to look for something else right now.
I barreled down the stairs and headed to the kitchen.
“Good morning.” Janice lifted her white coffee mug with one hand while holding a tablet that she didn’t look away from with the other. She was in a pinstriped pencil skirt and a button-down shirt with her hair in a precise bun.
“I know I’m late for school.”
“Your father called you off.” She sat the mug down and looked at me accusingly.
I opened the fridge for a water when she finally stood, her heels clicked on the tile floor until she was right beside me. I hesitated before looking at her. She had dark brown eyes that looked like they were judging my soul when she glared at me. Her shoulders were straight and her back like a board. She reminded me of one of those mean-librarian tropes in movies. I resisted the urge to say, ‘Can I help you?’ which I had no clue where the urge had come from.
“Yeah?” I tilted my head.
“If I find out you’re faking this whole …” she waved her perfectly manicured hand in the air, her nails deep red. “Anyway,” She stood up straight and tugged on the hem of her blouse as if she’d just done something to wrinkle her shirt. “Heather called your father last night.”
Heather? My mom? I didn’t ask Janice what my mom had wanted. I didn’t want to seem too eager. The thing was, even though my mom was a deadbeat I always held out hope that this time it would be different.
“She wanted to know how you were doing with everything.”
I kept my face impassive as if I was playing a game of poker.
Janice rinsed her mug. “Would you please call her, so your father doesn’t have to talk to her?”
So my dad didn’t have to talk to her? They shared a child together. Who else would my mom call to check on me?
“Please don’t make a big mess while you’re home today.” Janice looked me up and down and crinkled her nose. “Maybe do some laundry while you’re at it.”
I went back upstairs without another word.
My mind went back to the journal. Had Janice been the one to write in it? There was no denying she had access to it. She could have done it anytime I was in the hospital. I paced my room, my fingernail in my mouth. I really needed to quit chewing them. I had nixed the habit when I was thirteen because I wanted my nails to be pretty like other girls.
I thought about everything else Janice had said trying to pin down a clue that she was it, she was the one. When I remembered my mom, she’d told me to call her. I scrolled through my contacts I knew it was a long shot, but there it was saved as Heather. My heart pounded as I pressed dial. It rang several times and just as I was about to give up, someone answered.
“Hello?” It was a scratchy male voice. Knowing my mom’s track record this number probably belonged to someone else, but I tried anyway.
“I think I have the wrong number. I’m looking for Heather?”
“She’s here. Hold on a second,” he said.
There was a lot of background noise. Almost like there was a party going on, only there were little voices too, like there were a lot of kids. I didn’t think my mom was a kid person, at least that’s why I thought she left. But maybe it was just her own kid she didn’t want.
Then there was her voice, warm, friendly, and inviting. “Hello?” That was the thing about my mom, she was charismatic and could win over anyone. She had a way of making people feel special by just looking at them. It was probably how she won my dad over every time she came back even for a day. But to me, she was my mom and she didn’t even have to try to win me back.
“Mom?” my voice caught in my throat. I didn’t know how long it had been since I had spoken to her, but it seemed like forever and hearing her voice, I wanted her here with me. I wanted her to sing to me and tell me everything was going to be okay because
I knew she truly believed it was.
“Sawyer?”
“I heard you called dad?”
“Oh, I didn’t want to bother you. I know you have a lot going with losing your memories and with your boyfriend, Trent.”
“Trey?”
“Right, yeah. Hold on for a second.” The sound of the phone shuffling filled my ear, then my mom’s muffled voice, “Mommy will be there in a minute, Clover.”
Then she was back. “I’m sorry, your brother can be demanding sometimes.”
“Brother?”
She laughed, “Did you forget your baby brother?”
“I forgot everything that happened the last three years.” Did my dad not tell her this?
“Clover’s two.”
I wasn’t sure if I was more bothered by the fact that I was jealous she had a child she didn’t abandon or the fact that his name was Clover.
“Can I have one more second? It’s my daughter,” my mom said. Her voice further away this time. Then she sighed and said, “I’m sorry, I have to go. We aren’t supposed to have phone calls during the day.”
“What? Where are you?”
“The commune. If you want to call back after seven I can talk more then.”
Commune?
“But I really have to go. I’m sorry,” she said as voices came closer then the phone was dead.
How could my mother, who never committed to anything be living in a commune? It didn’t make sense. I held my phone and stared at it in disbelief.
One morning, after we’d spent the day before hiking, just the three of us, I woke up to hear my dad and her fighting. I was ten and really believed her when she hugged me and told me I was the best thing that ever happened to her. She’d been home for about a week. I got to show her off as she picked me up from school like all the other moms. Usually, it was Henry’s mom that picked me up. We’d go to his house and his grandma would bake us cookies. When we were done with the cookies we would run outback to the treehouse, the one I scraped my leg on, until my dad picked me up. But that week had been different. That week, my mom picked me up and we went downtown and shopped or we went to the movies or the arcade. We did something fun and exciting every single night.
