Forgotten

Chapter 3

**Chapter Title: A Ride, a Revelation, and a Resolve**

I can’t believe he’s laughing at me. I shouldn’t have let him get to me like that.

“Where to, Princess?”

I glared at him, but decided not to snap again. It’s just not worth it.

“You can drop me at the nearest hotel. I’ll get a taxi from there.”He leaned against his bike, arms crossed, clearly in no hurry.

“Afraid to tell me where you live, Princess?” I bit my tongue. One wrong word and I’d be out of a ride. He looked far too amused with himself, smiling like we were sharing some kind of inside joke I wasn’t in on.

“Stop calling me ‘Princess.’” I folded my arms across my chest. The nickname was really starting to grind on me, as if he’d already decided I was nothing more than a spoiled brat. That was the one thing I’d tried not to be

“I will when you stop acting like one.”

I blinked. I’d been trying to be nice—he’d made that nearly impossible.

“Look, going to a hotel was my original plan. From there, I’ll grab a taxi home. Can we go now... please?” The longer we argued, the later I got home. That cute smile of his wasn’t going to distract me—I wasn’t that easy to rile up.

“We’ll go when you give me your address.”

Was he dense?

“If you think me being late is bad, imagine what’ll happen if I show up on a bike. That would be the ultimate ammunition for my stepmother. She’d sprint to my father faster than an Olympic gold medalist.”

He stared at me a second, then finally swung a leg over the bike. I hesitated before putting the helmet on. The buckle was tricky—I was basically doing it blind—and then I felt his warm hand on my arm.

My gaze shot up.

He gently moved my hands aside to buckle it himself, pulling me a little closer. My heart picked up its pace. I studied his face—watching for some hint that he felt what I did. His hands stilled, and his eyes met mine. For a second, we just looked at each other.

“Come on, get on, Princess. We don’t want the evil stepmother to get you.”

What was I thinking earlier? Cute? More like arrogant.

I climbed onto the bike, trying to sit as far from him as possible, but when the bike tilted off its stand, I instinctively grabbed his side. I felt my face heat up at the contact.

He chuckled.

I tried to move my hands away, but he caught them, pulled me closer, and made me wrap them around his waist. My chest was flush against his back. It felt too intimate. I felt his back muscles stiffen... and then relax with a sigh.

“Sorry if my shirt’s wet. Some selfish brat made me spill my coffee.”

He laughed, and we pulled away.

It wasn't safe. Not without a helmet for him. Not on a winding mountain pass. Not with the dense trees that seemed like the perfect place to hide a body.

Morbid thought, maybe. But I needed a distraction. Because his warmth against me in contrast to the cold wind? It was... comforting. My body melted into his, and I stopped feeling stiff. It was like we moved together. It was thrilling and terrifying and addictive.

The more I thought about him, the more I noticed his kindness too. Not everyone would drop what they were doing to give a complete stranger a ride. I almost regretted not giving him my real address—just so the moment could last longer.

Too soon, he pulled into the hotel parking lot.

He kicked down the stand, and I climbed off. Then he surprised me—pulling me back gently by the waist. This time, he was watching my face the way I’d watched his earlier.

He unbuckled my helmet and pulled it off for me.

We stood there.

I waited—for a name, a number, something. There was clearly chemistry. I couldn’t have imagined it.

Then a taxi pulled up.

“Thank you for everything,” I said, stepping away, hoping—again—that he’d stop me. Say something. Anything.

He didn’t.

I got into the cab, gave the driver my address, and looked back.

But he was already gone.

It felt like the whole thing hadn’t even happened. Like he’d vanished into thin air.

---

The taxi ride wasn’t long. Quicker than the shuttle would’ve been. I can’t believe I’m never going to see him again.

I hated him when we first met, but somehow he’d grown on me. It happened in the details—his snotty comments, the way our bodies brushed on the bike, that flash of gentleness.

I don’t even know his name.

I limped up the driveway.

The moment I walked inside—

“Where have you been!”

I groaned inwardly. I can’t deal with her right now.

“What do you do, wait by the door just so you can attack me?”

I brushed past Lyssa toward the kitchen. My ankle was throbbing. I needed ice.

“Don’t you dare walk away from me, young lady! I want answers!”

“Is that what my father says to you when you walk away?” A cheap shot, maybe, but her being younger than him had always rubbed me the wrong way.

I grabbed an ice pack from the freezer, sat down, and pressed it against my swollen ankle. Lyssa just stared at me like I’d slapped her.

Then the front door opened.

My father.

Lyssa’s cue.

She burst into tears, ran into his arms. Fake, exaggerated sobs.

“Honey, I’m so glad you’re home! She’s been awful to me! She called me a gold digger. She’s always rude when you’re not around, and it breaks my heart!”

Cue the dramatics. She honestly missed her calling as an actress.

“That’s not what happened.” I stood my ground. “I was at the docks doing a review. On my way to the shuttle, I tripped and fell. My laptop broke, I hurt my ankle, and I missed the shuttle. I had to wait for a taxi. The guard at the gate can confirm it. She was waiting for me and started in the moment I got home. I just wanted to ice my foot when she started yelling. I told her she’s a ‘young lady’ too.”

“She’s lying!” Lyssa wailed.

“How can she be lying? Her ankle is swollen.”My dad surprised me by actually defending me.

“She was probably drinking with her friends. Her shirt’s ruined, her elbows are scraped. Who falls like that backward?”

“I wasn’t with friends. Liara had a tutor. Smell my breath. No alcohol. I have the restaurant receipt. Call them if you want!”

“That’s enough, Alysson. I believe you. Just calm down.”

My jaw dropped.

“She was up to no good! Why do you never believe me?” Lyssa screeched. “I’m trying to be her mother, and she rejects me! How is she supposed to respect me if you don’t support me?”

She stormed off. Dad followed her. Typical.

I made tea, sat down, and kept the ice on my ankle. The kitchen was silent. It didn’t last. Dad came back, poured himself a glass of scotch, and drank it in one go.

“Why can’t the two of you just get along?” he asked, clearly exhausted.

I didn’t answer. He didn’t want reasons—he wanted peace.

“You’re grounded.”

I blinked. “What? I didn’t even come in late. I was home before you.”

“You were rude to Lyssa, and you know it.”

“I wouldn’t be rude if she left me alone. She’s always picking at me!”

“She cares. Maybe if you tried harder, she wouldn’t find faults.” That hurt more than I expected.

“You’re grounded. Only school and straight home.” It was already Tuesday. I could work with that.

“I’ve got review bookings all week. You wouldn’t want me to back out on promises, right?”

He’s always preaching about commitment. Except when it comes to me.

“Fine. Do your reviews.”

One down.

“And the beach trip this weekend. Remember I asked you a while back?” He didn’t, obviously. But he nodded anyway.

“Right. Other than that, you’re grounded. No TV. No social media. Phone off and handed to Lyssa.”

I nodded. I’d done this dance before. I had a spare phone. She’d never know the difference.

“Okay. No problem. Goodnight.”

I grabbed the ice pack and headed upstairs.

---

I woke up early, showered, and took my time getting ready. I curled the ends of my ponytail, put on my uniform, and slipped my backup phone into my blazer.

Breakfast was amusing. Lyssa was giving my father the silent treatment. Classic move. She’d forgive him after he bought her something shiny. I guessed earrings, but it was always a surprise.

Earphones in, I rode in silence to school. I had a mission today.

I spotted Liara by her locker—her signature ponytail bobbing as she dug for books.

“Hey hey!” I grinned, leaning beside her.

She raised a brow. “You’re chipper.”

“I’ve got a plan. Beach day this weekend. Volleyball, swimming, picnic, the whole shebang. We haven’t done something fun in forever. I already got permission. Think you can get the usual crowd?”

She lit up. “That actually sounds amazing. I need a break. Tutor sessions and essays are drowning me. I’ll spread the word—we might get a whole crew.”

I smiled all through history class. Until things got quiet. Then my thoughts drifted to him.

My perfectly rude stranger.

I had to find him. I couldn’t just daydream forever. What if he didn’t feel the same? Or worse—what if he didn’t even remember me?

At lunch, I finally told Liara everything.

“You didn’t get his name? Or number? Girl, it’s not the ‘50s. It’s not all on him.”

I sighed.

“If you find him, I hope it’s your fairy tale. You deserve one. No other prince charming’s even caught your eye.”

“Maybe,” I smiled, “because he’s not a prince charming.”