Remember Me

Chapter 2

I wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare. I can only remember bits and pieces of it and some emotions in it. A shiver runs down my spine, the aftermath of the nightmare that was still chilling me to my bones. A nightmare I could hardly remember, or try to piece together, still affecting me had to be a bad one, which only made me grateful for me not being able to. I get up and head down to the kitchen to grab a glass of water for my dry throat. Another attribute I could thank the nightmare for.

My mom's voice stops me at the doorway. Tears are running down her face, and quiet sobs are escaping her lips. She's on the phone with someone. I step back from the doorway and lean against the wall next to it listening.

"I don't know what to do. She won't talk to me. She just keeps shutting me out."

I hear a woman's voice on the other end, but I can't make out her words.

"I thought she would get over it and move on after a while, but she hasn't. She doesn't seem like she ever will. She isn't happy and I don't know how to make her be."

The woman's voice again.

"I just keep thinking her father could make everything better if he were here. I'm such a failure. I can't even take care of my own daughter. I can't make her happy. I can't ease her pain. I can't even get her to talk to me without her screaming and taking all of her rage out on me. I only seem to make it worse no matter what I try. No matter what I say. Today was the worst of all. She was so cold and heartless. You should have seen her eyes. I've never seen her that bad. Her eyes were empty, void of anything, and so cold. It was so scary and heartbreaking. I didn't recognize her. It's like my daughter really did die like she told me, and was replaced with a stranger. She talked to me like she never has before. My spirit and heart are broken. I'm so tired. I'm so lost and feel so alone. I don't know whether to give her space and loosen my reigns or tighten them and start disciplining her. I just want my baby girl back. She thinks I don't love who she is now, and that's not the case at all. I just don't love how comatose, withdrawn, broken, and miserable she's become. All I want is for her to be happy and healthy again. She doesn't understand that when she hurts, I hurt. When she's not happy, I'm not either. I don't know how to make her see or understand. I don't know how to reach her anymore."

I feel a knot form in my throat, making it even more difficult to swallow with my already dry throat. My stomach follows suit and twists into knots right with it. I can't hear anymore. I forget my thirst and run back up to my room. I go into my closet, cover my face, and scream until no sound can come out anymore.

I take the clothes away from my face and breathe in and out heavily. I can't seem to get enough air. I can't believe how selfish I've been, and with my mom of all people. My sweet, gentle mom who had only ever been there for me and done her best to give me the best life possible. Who would work her fingers to the bone to ensure that I never went without my needs or my wants.

Who would go to the ends of the earth to give me any and every opportunity I could ever think to imagine. How had I lost sight of that so badly? How had I not realized that all she wanted was my happiness just like she always had? Guilt and shame racked my body so hard that it made me want to puke. I have to change.

I have to be happy, or at least pretend to be anyway. The idea of it already exhausted and tired me. But I can do it. I have to for my mom. She didn't deserve any of this or how I had been treating her. She didn't deserve to be unhappy or weighed down with worry just because of me. She didn't deserve to have her spirit broken by the daughter that she had dedicated her life to for 15 years. A daughter she had never failed once but was now sobbing about being a failure. It wasn't fair to her. She deserved nothing less than complete and utter happiness. I had to do this. I had to make this right and better. And I would if it was the last and only good thing I did.

The next morning, I get up early and dress in the most cheerful nonblack outfit I have left, a light blue sweater that hangs off one of my shoulders, black jeans that don't include holes, and black leather boots that stop just above my knee. I even take the time to do my makeup, something I haven't done in six months. When I'm done, I take a few deep breaths preparing myself as much as possible for my upcoming performance. I run down the stairs and into the kitchen, where I find my mom sitting at the counter drinking coffee.

"Good morning!" I greet her, making my voice sound as cheerful and as perky as I could manage.

I watch her face morph into surprise when her eyes take in my outfit, makeup, and styled hair. She quickly masks it, though. Probably afraid of a bad reaction from me if I notice. My heart aches with guilt and regret at the thought. I walk over to her and give her a hug and kiss on the cheek before taking the seat across from hers. This earns yet another quickly concealed, shocked expression. She began to choke on the sip of coffee she had just taken into her mouth right before I hugged her and coughed a few times until her throat was clear.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice sounding unsure while she looked at me with a mixture of concern, confusion, and amazement.

Again, I became plagued with shame and remorse. Had I really gotten that bad? So bad that she couldn't trust her eyes when she saw me like this and struggled to believe that I could actually be decent and loving towards her? She looked like she was fighting not to pinch herself to make sure she was awake and not dreaming. I clearly had a lot of damage repair ahead of me. And the worst daughter of the year award goes to Natalie.

"Perfect," I answer her, putting all of the enthusiasm that I could muster into that one word and smiling at her, trying to make it look as genuine, bright, and big as possible.

"Alright, what do you want," she asks, refusing to let herself buy into my act and get her hopes up.

"Nothing. Can't I be in a good mood?"

"You never are," she says, raising a disbelieving eyebrow at me.

"Well, I am today. And I would appreciate it if you didn't ruin it," I reply, accidentally coming off a little snarky and snappy.

"Okay. I'm sorry," she apologizes, raising her hands up to her chest level.

Her face remained blank. But, knowing her so well, I could see hints of defeat and sadness lurking behind the blank expression. I bite my lip and internally scold myself for barely being 10 minutes into the morning and this conversation with her and already starting to screw it up. Guess I can go ahead and add the world's most massive f**k up to that award as well. I sigh before looking at her, willing her to meet my gaze. When she feels my stare, she finally does.

"I want to apologize to you for last night. You didn't deserve that. I shouldn't have let my temper get the best of me. I just need you to understand that..." I pause, a knot forming in my throat, and had to fight to get the next agonizing words out. "I need you to understand that what happened isn't something I'm comfortable or able to talk about or be reminded of right now. Maybe not ever. What I need right now is for my mom to be here for me without pushing me to talk about it and just help me continue to move past it," I tell her, making my voice as gentle and apologetic as I can.

I watch as a smile starts to grow on her face, her eyes getting watery, and she grabs my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze while nodding. "I can do that. And thank you for the apology, sweetie. You don't know how much it means to me to hear. I'm also sorry. I shouldn't have pushed so hard for you to talk about something so painful for you. I convinced myself that if I could get you to talk about it that it would help you, but I guess that may not always be the case. And it's your place to decide when or if you want to talk about it. I'll work on respecting that more like I should," she replies, her voice thick with the tears that were trying to make their way out.

Giving her hand one more squeeze, I tell her, "I have to go. Don't want to be late for school. I love you. Bye."

After I get a good distance from my house, I stop the façade and put my headphones in, then crank my iPod up as high as it will go. I'm in my world now. I realized a while ago that reality, your mind, and your memories are nothing but prisons. And when I have my music up so loud that it blocks out the world and my thoughts, I'm free from those prisons.

As I'm walking up to the school, I see Riley getting out of his car. I watch as he goes to his trunk, grabs his bookbag, and slings it over one shoulder. His messy blonde hair hangs just above his emerald green eyes. His white t-shirt clings to every muscle, ab, and line of his body. He's gorgeous. Not even I can deny that fact. I can't help but stand there and continue looking him over for at least another 30 seconds. I shake myself and walk up to him. He closes his trunk and turns toward me, his eyes raking over every inch of me, taking in my appearance, as I had just shamefully been doing to him five seconds ago.

"Hey, what's up?" he asks, his mouth turning into a crooked grin.

Again, I have to shake myself.

"Thanks," I told him simply and to the point.

"For what?"

I give him a look before answering, "The iPod."

"Oh, that," he says, shrugging as if he had actually forgotten and it was no big deal. "Yeah, sure, no problem. I owed you a replacement anyways if we're going to continue sticking to your version of the story," he continues, a glint in his eyes and a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"I am curious as to how you got my address though."

He gave me a mischievous look and grin. I kept my face blank and stared at him expectantly. I watched as he chewed on his bottom lip and debate on whether he was going to divulge his secret to me. I crossed my arms and arched an eyebrow at him, growing impatient and wordlessly telling him he needed to spit it out. He blew out a breath and chuckled nervously. I had never witnessed or heard him be anywhere near nervous before.

"I might have charmed my way into the principal's office and got it from your file," he finally answered begrudgingly, his voice low, nervous, and mischievous.

My heart skipped a beat as I took in what he was telling me. Did he really risk getting expelled just to surprise me with an iPod? I would have never even thought of him as the type that would pull a stunt like that. I look up into his eyes incredulously. I have to fight internally to stop my jaw from hitting the floor in shock.

My tongue skims over my plump lips, wetting them. His eyes dart down to them, immediately taking in the movement and watching me. His gaze stays on my lips even after I've finished. I look away towards the school and bite my bottom lip nervously as I watch a few people walk through the front doors. My mind started screaming at me to run for the second time with him.

When I finally managed to look back at him, I realized that biting my lip when he was already staring at them so intensely may not have been the smartest move on my part. His eyes glittered and remained locked on them. I shifted my weight to one leg, the movement causing him to look up and make eye contact with me again. He took in my arched eyebrow, and I watched as his actions seemed to dawn on him. He cleared his throat, looking away from me for a split second embarrassed.

It seemed like the split second that he took to look away from me was all that he needed to collect himself. When his eyes trained on me again, his carefree and happy demeanor was already back, along with his bright smile.

"How did you know it was me?" he asks, returning to the subject.

Whatever it was that had just happened, already forgotten. That is, it seemed to be already forgotten by Riley, at least. Not me, on the other hand. I was still trying to make sense of it in my head while also trying to avoid the panic that was attempting to take over me.

"How could I not?" I ask, giving him a quizzical look.

"It could have been anyone," he replies with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

"Yeah, and it would just be a coincidence that someone puts one on my doorstep a day after mine got ran over."

"You might have a stalker," he says, overdramatically gasping and widening his eyes.

"You think?" I ask, playing along before I can realize what I'm doing, not being able to stop or help myself.

"Definitely possible. But don't worry. I'll protect you."

"That's very brave of you," I reply, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

"I'm a brave man," he replies, smirking down at me while standing up taller and puffing out his chest to appear even bigger.

I'm barely able to stop the laughter from escaping my lips at his complete ridiculousness. I bite down on my bottom lip, trying to contain the smile that threatens to spread across my face. The fact that Riley still managed to look so cute while acting like this astounded me.

"Nice to know," I say, not being able to stop the smallest of smirks from displaying on my face.

He notices the smirk, even with it being as small and brief as it had been, and it only makes his smile grow broader, and his eyes shine even more. If I knew him better, I would swear that I caught a flash of satisfaction as well.

"See? We can get along," he said, continuing to smile down at me, a smug look on his face.

His words made me realize what had just happened, how easy and natural it had felt, and made me automatically want to shut down and close off. I hadn't even realized how light-hearted and playful our conversation had gotten. I guess he noticed the change in me because the smile that was almost a permanent fixture on his face instantly disappeared, a frown taking its place instead.

"What is it?" he asked, studying my face while his brows knitted together.

"Nothing," I reply instantly.

"No. Something is up."

"The sky," I answer lamely, at a loss of words.

He grimaced at me, rolling his eyes before saying, "You know what I mean."

"How would I know what you mean? I don't know you," I forcefully snapped at him.

For a second, he appeared to be almost knocked to his a*s with shock at the complete 360. But I couldn't help it. This was starting to feel way too dangerous and easy, and I had to protect myself. I couldn't allow myself to be sucked in by him. And that had started to feel too possible a few seconds ago.

"Would you like to?" he asks with a playful smirk already back on his face.

"No."

"Ouch," he replied, grabbing at his heart and pretending to stagger back. "That actually hurt, cutie."

Doing my best to ignore the fact that he just called me 'cutie'; I replied, "Good. Maybe now you'll leave me alone."

"I don't think I can," he said matter-of-factly.

I narrowed my eyes at him, my brows coming together, and my forehead scrunching up; I asked him, "And why is that?"

"I'm too much a part of your life by now to just leave."

"What? No, you are absolutely not. You haven't even known me for 48 hours," I said, scoffing at him.

"Be honest. You would miss me," Riley stated with a cocky grin, dismissing the very valid point that I had just made.

I tapped on my chin with my pointer finger while scrunching my forehead and pretending to think it over, then shrugged my shoulders and made myself appear unbothered by the conclusion.

"No, I don't think I would," I replied, shaking my head and making it sound like an absolute fact.

"Think being the keyword, but why don't you twist that dagger a little more. I don't think it's reached my heart yet," he replied, still cocky and smirking.

I shook my head, glaring at him, and said, "No, don't do that. There is no keyword."

"Uh-huh, sure," he said sarcastically, the smug grin shining in his eyes mocking me.

Riley's eyes leave mine to land on something behind me. I turn around to see Colton standing close enough to me that I can feel his body heat radiating off of him. It unsettled me, even more, knowing that I would have noticed him there without Riley drawing my attention to him if Riley had not had me so wound up. His hands were in his jeans pockets, and he was shifting from one foot to the other, looking around nervously. His demeanor scared me. I know Colton better than I know myself. Something is up.

"Colton? What's wrong?" I asked, confusion muddling my brain while a concern that I can't help or stop begins running through my veins.

"Can we talk?" he asks, his light blue eyes settling onto mine.

Oh, God. Fear shoots through me. The last time we talked, he broke me. I don't think I can handle it if he does it again.

"I can't right now. I'm sorry. Riley and I have to be somewhere," I tell him while grabbing Riley's extremely hard bicep and dragging him away from Colton.

"What was that about?" Riley asked me as we continued to walk.

I dropped my hand from his arm when I realized I was still gripping onto his muscle. I tried to ignore how nice it was and push it completely out of my mind.

"What?" I asked, trying to look clueless.

"Don't play dumb with me," he said, frowning down at me.

I didn't like it when he frowned. I had grown used to his permanent, bright smile in the short time that I've known him. Anything else seemed wrong and out of place on his face.

"I just didn't feel like talking to him," I said while shrugging my shoulders, trying to downplay the situation so that he would drop it.

"You know him personally. I was right. There is something there," he stated, studying me.

"Just drop it," I demanded, my voice starting to grow cold as I looked anywhere but at him.

"If I'm going to be used as a scapegoat, then I at least deserve to know the cause," he said as he leaned against the school building, crossing his arms, and c****d an eyebrow up at me.

I meet his eyes. Eyes that are still trying to study and read me. I start to do the same by attempting to study and read him as well. Chewing my lip, I debate whether I should tell him or not, whether it's safe or not, and whether I would even be able to handle reliving it and telling him. He did replace my iPod with an even newer model, and he did give me an escape from whatever it was that Colton wanted that could have potentially shattered me all over again. I take a deep, steadying breath and decide to tell him. Or at least tell him enough.

"He used to be my best friend," I answer simply, hoping that it would be enough for him.

"What happened?" he asks after a moment, his face appearing open and gentle.

I look away, fighting the tears threatening to spill over. Riley must notice because he drops it and lightly touches my arm to get my attention. I look back at him when I am sure I have myself under control. His unwavering gaze catches me off guard, and I find myself trapped in his green eyes, almost drowning. For once, his usual light isn't shining in them or making his face light up even more.

What I do find in them almost knocks the breath from my lungs. The openness is still there. But now, I see it's joined with what looks like compassion, and a strength I've never seen in them before. It comforts me, almost like he is willing some of the strength to become my own. I'm still drowning in them when I notice his usual light reappear and start to flicker as he stops leaning against the brick wall and steps closer to me. His movement brings me back to earth and I shake myself.

"Come on," he tells me, holding his hand out for mine to take and tilting his head, a gentle and inviting smile on his face.

I look at his offered hand but don't take it. My face scrunches up in confusion as I look back into his eyes that are watching every expression and move I make.

"Where?" I ask him warily.

"You'll see. Now come on," Riley replies, his hand still held out in the air, patiently waiting

His eyes, still filled with compassion, now seem to be telling me to trust him. The gentle smile is still on his lips. War starts to wage in my mind, and for once, I shove it to the back of my mind. I continue to look at him warily as I tentatively reach out to put my hand in his, barely able to stop it from nervously shaking before he can see. His hand feels strong and warm on mine and is twice the size of it. He leads me back to the student parking lot, to his car, and opens the passenger door for me.

"Get in. We're skipping," Riley informs me, nodding his head at the passenger seat.