•••

You know that feeling you get when you obviously want to believe that someone's lying to you, but deep down there's an impending fear that the person is actually telling the truth?  

That was exactly how I felt when Valerie kept on saying that we'd been the best of friends, and I just stared at her wide eyed as if she'd just sprouted two heads.

"Since when?" I asked in a choked voice.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Two years, roughly." Her gaze upon me turned serious once she saw my disbelief. "Wait, you-you don't remember?"

Before I could even reply, I heard a smack. Turning to face Dylan, I saw that he'd facepalmed himself. "You gotta be kidding me."

I wasn't sure if he was directing those words at me, but then my certainty about his utterance became clear when he continued talking.

"Val, stop blonding again," he fixed his gaze upon me. "Three years, right?"

I fidgeted with my fingers, suddenly feeling awkward at their silence and their bated breaths as they awaited my response.

"Yeah," I nodded. "The doctor said it's only temporary, though."

"It better be," said Dylan, and I couldn't help but take note of his tone and the look in his eye. He sounded annoyed and there was a flash of an emotion that crossed his eye. I couldn't quite decipher what it was for it disappeared too fast before I could catch its meaning.

His expression changed to a playful one. "I'm Dylan, by the way."

I had already gathered that but I just nodded and mumbled an "OK".

Jac came towards me and sat beside me on the bed. He took my hands in his and I felt my heart rate pick up.

"Baby," he said, giving me an intense look that made my cheeks heat up. "Do you remember me?"

I nodded mutely, not trusting my mouth in case I said something stupid or started swooning like an over the top fan girl.

A sigh of relief escaped Jac's lips. "Thank heavens." He leaned in closer and oh my fúck we were so close again.

"Sorry to burst your bubble."

I snapped my head towards Dylan who'd spoken up.

"She might remember you, but I don't think she remembers . . . this." Dylan made a gesture of pointing a finger towards the two of us, back and forth.

Jac stared at me. He wore an alarmed look. "Wait. You do know that we're in a relationship, right?"

Ah, that. I'd already pieced it together after he addressed me as 'dear' and 'babe' and 'baby' and his near kiss and the flowers.

But instead, I just said, "I didn't know . . ."

Jac let out a sigh of defeat. He seemed vulnerable at that moment. "Please remember. I can't have you forget about us."

My chest constricted at his tone of voice laced with pure emotion. "I-"

"Guys," Dylan interrupted, as though he were being impatient. "I think we ought to give her some space."

Valerie and Jac gave me looks of sympathy, and even if it was just for a moment, Valerie's look morphed into one of genuine concern. It surprised me, to say the least.

"OK," she said, wearing a defeated and longing look. "I'll text you, alright?"

I nodded again before hastily shaking my head as I remembered that I didn't have the pass code to my phone. "I don't remember the PIN. I don't think I'll reply fast enough." A sheepish grin weaved its way onto my face.

"Oh, really?" she seemingly perked up and stretched out her hand. "Gimme your phone."

"Uhm . . ." I took the bag and rummaged through it. "Here."

She did a few taps on the phone and gave it back. Glancing at the screen, I found it unlocked.

"How did you-"

"Dee, we're best friends," she said in a dismissal tone as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. With my mouth agape, I watched her lean in and she whispered into my ear, "It's 1256."

Looking satisfied with herself, she added. "If you had any sort of doubts that we're friends, this should prove it." She beamed at me.

I didn't return her smile as I felt terrified of the prospect. Me. The Valerie. Best friends.

It didn't feel quite right.

I stared at the screen blankly, not ready to open the numerous text messages for fear of what I would find. I vaguely heard Dylan persuading Valerie and Jac to leave and once he'd ushered them out, he turned towards me.

"What am I going to do with you?" he shook his head disbelievingly before walking out and shutting the door behind him.

I sighed, feeling strange after what had just happened. My mind drifted to Clark and I felt my heart tighten thinking about why he hadn't shown up. Could it mean that we'd stopped being friends? It was one major possibility which I tried to ignore but I couldn't find myself being able to.

Which was why I clicked on the contacts icon and scrolled through it, holding my breath as I saw names I didn't remember.

I came upon the "C" section.

Cara, CeCe, Cindy, Cody, Cullen.

No Clark.

I let out the breath I'd been holding. After contemplating for a while, I tried one last resort.

His number. I knew it by heart. I punched in the figures and held the phone by my ear, but it didn't take long before an automated voice informed me that the number I'd dialed was no longer in service.

He probably changed his number. And I happened not to have it. This was getting more and more hopeless.

I laid back down, staring at the ceiling as my heart felt heavy. I didn't think I was ready to accept the amount of change that had happened over the past three years.

The door opened and I strayed my gaze towards it.

I sat up straight once I saw who it was. "Oh my god, Dawn?"

But instead of my twelve-year-old chubby cheeked innocent eyed pigtail hairstyled sister, I saw a goth girl.

"Yo." She said and I assumed that was her way of greeting judging by her smile.

"Oh my god, what the fúck happened to you?" I asked, not believing my eyes.

She looked confused and glanced down at herself. "What?"

Of course, she didn't see anything wrong. I, on the other hand, wasn't at all comfortable with her raccoon eye makeup, pierced nose and lips and ears. Instead of her auburn hair that I was accustomed to, she now had obsidian black hair that had purple highlights. She was adorned in a spiky choker, black crop top, coal leather jacket, silver fingerless gloves, a dark high waist pair of skinny jeans and, holy fúck, were those spiky combat boots.

What the actual hell?!

"Whoa," I managed to whisper. "You look . . . different."

She gave me a questioning gaze before trudging towards the sofa at the corner of the room and casually lounging in it, her legs dangling over the arm rests. "So, Cliff told me about your . . . condition."

I was still getting over the fact that I could never get to see Dawnley's virginal hipster look again, but the way she said 'condition' made me pay attention.

"Is it true?" Dawn's brow arched in a suspicious manner.

I frowned. "Is what true?"

"Your . . ." she waved her hand as if looking for the right word, "amnesia."

I let out a sigh. "Yeah, well, I'm surprisingly not in the future and I didn't have a plastic transplant." I gave her a dead smile.

"Hmm . . ." she was still giving me a suspicious look. "You sure, Dee?"

I rolled my eyes. "What is it with people calling me Dee?" I said exasperatedly. "How did I even get that nickname?"

Her arched brow was still in place. "You're bluffing."

"What? No. Why would you think that?"

Dawn chuckled. "Because I know you too well. You're faking this. Just come out clean to me. You know I won't tell anyone."

I felt like I had been stabbed by the largest sword in my heart. Twice. I didn't even reply but just stared blankly at my sister.

Why would she even think that?

The silence in the room grew. She stood up and literally sashayed towards me.

"You know, I get why you'd tell everyone you've got amnesia," she said. "If I owe someone some big money and I don't want to pay it off, that's probably the best excuse I'd come up with, you know." She challenged me with her stare.

"Wow, OK. So you think I'm faking my amnesia because I'm in some huge debt, right? Or am I like, some wanted criminal, huh? You tell me because you seem to exactly know what's going through my mind right now!" I couldn't help but raise my voice and lash out at her

"Honestly, yeah. I think you're faking it," she replied, unaffected by my outburst. "Don't tell me you've forgotten about Aiden," she told me once she was beside my bed.

"Dawn, seriously. Why would I fake such a serious thing?" I don't know if I imagined it but some emotion crossed her eye for a moment before she went back to her stoic but suspicious stare.

A surge of annoyance coursed through me. Her skepticism was to blame. "And who's Aiden?" I asked, fighting the urge to do a mega roll of my eyes.

"Aiden's your kid."

•••

i'll be doing roughly a thousand words each chapter. yes, that's short, but updates will be around 3 or 4 times a week so I guess that's a win.

-Marj