Keep Me in Mind Page 18

  “Liam? You in there, boy?” Dad called through the door.

  “Yeah,” I croaked from under my pillow.

  “All right. If you feel like eating, there’s some leftover Chinese in the fridge.”

  “Uh-huh” was all I could get out through the wad of cotton in my mouth.

  “Okay. I got some Navy buddies coming into town, so I’m heading out now. Don’t know how late I’ll be out, so make sure you and Wade lock up everything before bed. Oh, and call your mother. She’s been trying to get ahold of you.”

  “Sure.” Please go.

  I soon heard the retreating footsteps and the front door close, followed by the roar of Dad’s truck starting and pulling out of the driveway. Anything after that was a mystery because the world faded into black.

  “Wake up, Liam! You coming to the dance or not?” asked the room invader and dream stealer.

  I opened one eye and rolled my head toward the door. Wade stood in my domain wearing ripped jeans, a black T-shirt, and a shaggy black wig that reached his shoulders.

  I studied his clothes, feeling underwhelmed, but mostly confused. “Who are you supposed to be?”

  “I’m Wayne, from Wayne’s World.” He slipped the ball cap over his head with the movie logo on the front.

  “That has to be the laziest costume I’ve ever seen. Genius,” I said then rolled back to my sleeping position.

  “Come to the dance, nephew. I got a blond wig. You can be my Garth.”

  Bypassing how and why Wade happened to have a wig on standby, I politely declined his offer.

  “Does this have to do with you and Ellia?” he asked.

  “No.” The answer came slower than I meant it to.

  “Yeah, right.” He sniggered. “What’s going on with you two?”

  “That is nowhere near any of your business,” I grumbled.

  “Why not?” he probed.

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  Wade leaned in to meet my averted gaze. “What do you mean there’s nothing to tell? Did something happen?”

  The sudden tension in the air alerted me to a relationship talk in the works—not a good discussion to have while sleep deprived. “Just let it go, Wade.”

  When I heard retreating footsteps, I thought the worst was over. That was until a sharp sting ripped across my arm. I rolled onto my back to find Wade standing over me on the bed, wielding a towel as a weapon. In my hazy, half-asleep state, what left me the most annoyed was whether or not that towel was clean.

  “Now, are you gonna fess up, or do things have to get complicated?” He flung the cloth again and it cracked in the air with a loud pop by my ear. “I have ways of making you talk.”

  “She’s just confused right now and can’t decide if she wants a boyfriend.”

  Wade lowered the towel and asked in a tone filled with horror, “Dude, you got friend-zoned? You can’t be friends with someone you have feelings for. It’ll just be a constant reminder of what you can’t have. It’s like putting boiling water in an ice-cold glass. It’s gonna bust and make a mess.”

  “Why do you even care?” I asked.

  “Well … I’m not just gonna sit here and let you get jerked around because a girl can’t make up her mind. Don’t make the same mistake I did with Natalie. There’s no point in holding on to something that won’t hold you back.”

  I sighed heavily, knowing he wasn’t going to let this go. “If I agree to go to the stupid dance, will you drop it?”

  “For now. Sure.” He hopped off my bed then darted out of the room. A moment later, he leaned his head in the doorway and tossed the blond wig on my lap.

  I realized that, deep down, I really did want to see Ellia tonight. That was motivation to shower and get dressed, and plunk on the long blond wig.

  I went downstairs and found Wade on his phone. “What? I said I miss you, too!” he said. He caught me watching him and a red flush climbed up his neck to his cheeks.

  “Hey, ask Kendra if she’s heard from Ellia,” I told him.

  Wade relayed my message and the answer made his eyebrows shoot to his scalp. “She says Ellia’s there with her and the girls at the dance. Ellia invited a guy with her.”

  My stomach fell. “What’s the guy’s name?”

  Kendra was talking so loud that I heard her answer before Wade could repeat it.

  Wade covered the phone and turned to me. “Who’s Cody?”

  Instead of answering, I left the house and headed to the car. Ellia wasn’t allowed to travel outside of biking distance, so Stacey must’ve been her ride and a parental decoy. Oh yeah, I knew how that worked. She had been a coconspirator to every outing Ellia and I planned before the accident. Now the same maneuver was being used for another guy.

  Around this point was when I began to see the world in a fiery red tint. I was definitely awake now, running on adrenaline and that ever-present need to act. And my slow uncle was holding up the works.

  “I’m coming, man!” Wade stepped out of the house then locked the front door.

  Taking all of the time in the world, he strolled over with a bottle of water in his hand.

  When he reached my side, he snatched the keys out of my hand. “Now, nephew, we’ve discussed this before,” he said in a placating tone that mirrored Dad’s voice with disturbing accuracy. “What have I told you about hulking out?”

  Clinging tight to the fraying threads of reason, I said, “I just wanna make sure she’s safe.” I reached for the keys.

  “Whatever helps you sleep at night, fam. I’m driving, so grab shotgun. I’ve seen enough of your road rage to last me a lifetime.” He lifted his water bottle in a toast. “To sanity: Let’s keep some tonight, shall we?”

  For someone who hated lies, I sure told a bunch of them these days, mainly to my folks. To be fair, they weren’t all that up-front with me. Dad still wouldn’t talk about the accident and kept dodging, bobbing, and weaving around the issue like a prizefighter. So no, I didn’t feel too pressed about bending the truth of my whereabouts. I was going to spend the night at Stacey’s house anyway. My failure to mention attending the Nineties Dance? Completely circumstantial.

  Stacey picked me up right after school because it would take three hours to get ready for the event. Two of those hours involved straightening my hair and installing extensions. With a high-midriff top, baggy jeans, and Timberland boots, I pulled off a convincing Aaliyah. The hair swoop and bandanna that I’d seen in all of her pictures helped cover my scar.

  Stacey’s outfit stole a bit of my thunder: She wore an army-green jacket, pleated skirt, combat boots, round glasses, and a brown wig with bangs. She and the girls had taken my advice and changed their group theme. Stacey was a dead ringer for Daria, right down to the vacant, emotionless expression. The competition didn’t stand a chance.

  Around seven, we rolled up to the student parking lot of León High School. The other girls waited under the awning, dressed as the rest of the cartoon cast: Nina, in an asymmetrical black bob wig, was Daria’s snarky BFF, Jane Lane; Trish was the blond cheerleader; and Kendra, in braids and a pink shirt, was the overachieving Jodi. I basked in my creative genius as the girls came over to say hi.

  “You made it!” Trish cried.

  “Of course she did,” Stacey said. “They’re announcing the winners tonight. Gotta see if all of her hard work paid off.”

  “I think our group is gonna win. We killed it this year,” Kendra said. “I mean, come on. We’re cartoons. We’re alive and animated. It’s kinda deep if you think about it, right? Right?” Her big eyes searched the group for agreement.

  In a typical response to Kendra’s statements, we were all silent, cutting our eyes at each other to confirm what we just heard.

  Nina stroked Kendra’s shoulder and crooned in a motherly tone, “So pretty. So special.”

  Side by side, we followed the balloons, streamers, and thumping music to the back entrance of the school. My thoughts flew back to freshman year and having to ent
er through the front where the buses parked. The trophies on the walls and the open space of the commons felt distantly familiar.

  Stacey leaned in and whispered, “Is any of this ringing any bells?”

  I nodded. “A bit.”

  She bumped my side with her elbow. “Hey, you wanna see your old locker?”

  I perked up at the idea. “My locker?”

  “Yup. It’s down that hall—5118.” She pointed to the hallway to our left. “Nobody’s touched it. It might be haunted.”

  I was tempted to see the ghost of high school past, but I had other obligations at the moment. “I’ll check it out later. I need to wait for Cody. He should be here by now.”

  Stacey reached for her purse then stopped. “I’m sorry, who?”

  “Cody. My friend. I told you about him. He goes to Serenity Health with me.”

  She withdrew from me as if I were contaminated. “You invited him to the dance?”

  I ignored her and pulled out my phone. Cody had directions to the school, but I feared he might’ve gotten lost.

  Stacey nudged me. “Is that him?”

  I looked toward the entrance, and ended the call with a huge grin.

  Cody Spencer, in full punk-rock glory, stepped through the rear doors of León High School with Hollywood slow-motion hotness. He’d ditched the baggy skater attire for skinny black jeans, a black button-down shirt, and a bright red tie. His dyed black hair was spiked up with gel, and he wore thick black eyeliner.

  “Look who wandered onto dry land. What’s up, Dory?” I called. I ran to him, not caring who watched. He sped his pace and we met halfway with big goofy smiles and a hug. “Let me guess,” I added, pulling away to admire his costume. “Green Day?”

  “The one and only Billy Joe Armstrong.” He spread his arms wide and then appraised my outfit. “Aaliyah, huh? Where’s R. Kelly?”

  “Don’t even go there,” I warned him, punching his arm.

  He touched a piece of my hair hanging over my shoulder. “You look different with straight hair. I like it curly.”

  “Me too,” I whispered, and led him by the arm to the gym’s entrance.

  Stacey hadn’t moved from her spot by the ticket table and was watching the two of us with a sagging jaw. She finally closed her mouth when we strolled forward.

  “Come on, weirdo. Didn’t anyone tell you it’s rude to stare?” I hooked her arm in my free one then escorted them both inside.

  A Madonna song thumped through the speakers. The gym was packed with students and teachers decked out in nineties costumes. Balloons covered the floor and hoops of streamers hung over our heads. Steve Urkel waved and said it was good to see me. Kurt Cobain and MC Hammer pointed finger guns my way.

  We found the girls at the snack table.

  “There you are!” Trish called, holding up her cup of punch in greeting. “What’s the hold u—” Both she and Nina went slack upon our approach, their eyes glued to the boy at my side.

  I knew this was going to be an awkward meeting and I braced myself for what was to come.

  “Who’s your friend, El?” Trish asked.

  “This is Dor—I mean Cody Spencer.” I drew him into the circle that the girls formed around us.

  Nina reached out her hand. “Nice to meet—”

  Trish elbowed Nina aside then stuck out her own hand. “Well, hello there, Cody. I haven’t seen you around school before. Do you go here?”

  “No, but Ellia invited me, and I was curious.” Cody shook her hand, unfazed by her hungry gaze. “You guys spent an entire week celebrating decades in history?”

  “Oh no. It’s far more complicated than that.” Trish twirled her hair. “So how do you two know each other?”

  Okay, how could I word this? I knew the question was coming, but I still wasn’t prepared for it.

  “We met at the hospital,” Cody jumped in.

  “Ohhh,” the girls said in unison, then Kendra asked him, “Are you a doctor?”

  “He’s seventeen, Kendra,” I told her.

  “So?” She hiked a thumb over her shoulder to the dance floor. “There’s a guy here who’s a doctor and he’s only fourteen.”

  “Oh my—I can’t even … ” Nina trapped her head in her hands and paced around in a circle. “He’s a freshman dressed up as Doogie Howser, you dingbat!”

  “You were in the hospital?” Trish asked Cody, her lashes all aflutter. “Poor baby. Did you get a head injury, too?”

  “Among other things.” Cody smiled and then turned to me with a knowing glance. I guess he figured I hadn’t told my friends about my condition and he wanted to honor that decision. But that required him to act fake, and I couldn’t have that.

  I suddenly realized that my friends had a right to know, and if they had a problem with it, then they weren’t really my friends. I was a good judge of character when it came to people. I had to trust that part of myself that I no longer knew.

  Instead of lying or making an excuse, I announced so everyone could hear, “He has amnesia. And so do I. I can’t remember anything past October of freshman year. And up until a few weeks ago, you were all strangers, except Stacey.” I flashed her a quick smile before continuing. “Cody and I go to the same therapy sessions and he’s been helping me cope with memory loss and stuff.”

  Not my best speech, but it got the point across.

  The group fell silent for an uncomfortable stretch of time. Faces froze in shock, mouths gaped open. And during the painful wait, I stood tall with my chin high. I had no reason to be ashamed, and having Cody at my side gave me the strength to see it through.

  The girls erupted in outrage. Screams and oh my gods carried over the music. However, it wasn’t for the reason I’d expected.

  “Why didn’t you tell us?” Trish pulled me in for a hug and mashed me to her chest. “Are you okay?”

  “So this was what you’ve been hiding?” Nina joined the love fest by draping her body over my back. “You’ve been dealing with this all alone?”

  I shrugged and peeked over Trish’s shoulder to where Cody stood. He smiled and watched the whole scene with pride and amusement, while Kendra gave me the side-eye and asked, “Is it contagious? Hold on—I’ll ask that doctor kid.”

  After the group hug, we gathered at one of the round tables by the dance floor. For the next hour, I explained the intricacies of mental health. The hardest question of the night came from Trish.

  “So are you two together?” Her finger swung between me and Cody. “I thought you were with Liam?”

  An eerie quiet swept over the table. Everyone, including Cody, waited for my answer. What I couldn’t understand was why this issue felt trickier than revealing my amnesia. I felt cornered and confused, which never went well for me. The clock ticked away in my head, and kept beat with the dull throb at my left temple. My headaches were coming on fast and I needed to take my medication.

  I shot up from my seat, making my chair scoot across the floor. “I’ll be back. Bathroom.”

  “I’ll go with you.” Stacey stood up, but I stopped her.

  “No!” I said a little too loudly. “I’m good. I’ll be right back.”

  After I assured everyone that I was all right, I fled from the gym to the cool air of the hallway.

  It took another five minutes and several wrong turns to find the bathroom. Once inside, I took the baggie with my pills out of my jeans pocket. I tossed my head back, swallowed two capsules, and chased them down with handfuls of tap water. The aftertaste alone was enough to make me want to vomit, but I needed to get this migraine under control before it got worse.

  My shaky hands gripped the lip of the sink, my eyelids squeezed shut, and all perception of time vanished in my wait for the pills to work their magic. At long last, the pressure behind my eye dissipated and clear vision returned. I delayed a few more minutes to regain my balance and then left the restroom to join the festivities.

  My struggle to recall the direction of the gym had me spinning from left to
right in the empty hall. I examined the doors and bulletin boards when the lockers ahead caught my attention. Double stacked, they stretched from one end of the corridor to another. The top row of lockers had even numbers.

  5244. 5242. 5240 …

  Stacey had told me my locker number. I followed the sequence down the hall.

  5186. 5184 …

  Curiosity took over and sent me running down the empty hall, turning corners, and eagerly awaiting the revelation, the pot of gold at the other end of this rainbow.

  5130. 5128 …

  My pace slowed a few feet in front of locker 5118. Mine. It had a condemned no-one’s-home negligence to it. Dark smudges formed an outline against the tan surface, from where stickers had been placed. I knew it was stupid, but my hands dragged over the sticky shadows, feeling for psychic energy of my past life. Perhaps physical touch would trigger all of those dormant memories and cause an onrush of awareness. Or maybe I watched too much TV.

  An emotion akin to grief hollowed out my insides. Resentment and sadness burrowed deep, growing and feeding off its host. I could feel its blunt teeth eating away at me.

  This had been my life. It might not have been the best, but it was mine and it had been taken from me for reasons I couldn’t understand. No matter how hard I tried to focus ahead, blame still had me looking back. Why did this have to happen to me? What purpose, what function did this two-year loss serve other than to drive me crazy?

  I was once again chasing my own ghost.

  “Ellia?”

  The low, gentle voice sounded concerned, and I wanted to fall into the comfort it offered. And yet, my uncertainty made it impossible to turn around and look him in the eye.

  “Are you all right?” Liam asked.

  “Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “I’m fine.”

  “The others were looking for you. They were worried. I was worried.”

  “Why?” I flinched at the sound of footsteps coming closer. My hands trembled as my palms pressed against the locker door, my eyes following the tall shadow crawling up its surface. Then his large, pale hand reached out and covered mine. The contrast between our skin tones was startling even in the semidarkness of the hall.