The Summer She Forgot Me

The first thing I did was rip the oxygen mask off my face, and a sharp alarm sounded immediately. Someone grabbed my wrist before I could pull out the IV attached to my arm. My heart slammed against my ribs as I took in the unfamiliar room around me: white walls, machines, bright lights, and the steady beeping of monitors. For one terrifying second, I thought I had been kidnapped. A woman appeared beside the bed, and her voice shook as she reached for my hand, but I pulled away instinctively. "Who are you?" The question slipped out before I could stop it. The woman's face went completely still. Her eyes widened, the color drained from her cheeks, and for a moment she reacted as though I had slapped her. "Eva..." Fear twisted in my stomach. I knew that face—or at least I thought I did. She had brown hair, kind eyes, and a small scar near her chin. Something about her seemed familiar, but my mind couldn't connect the pieces. "I'm sorry," I said. "Do I know you?" The woman covered her mouth, and a strangled sound escaped her throat before she burst into tears. My panic doubled. "What's happening?" I asked. The door opened, and a doctor hurried inside with two nurses. "It's alright," he said calmly. "Eva, you're safe." Nothing about this was safe. I didn't know where I was, why I was here, or why I had just made a grown woman cry. The doctor stepped closer. "Can you tell me your full name?" I swallowed hard. "Eva Carter." His expression relaxed slightly. "And how old are you?" "Sixteen." The room grew quiet. I frowned, wondering why everyone was looking at each other. The doctor glanced toward the crying woman before turning back to me. "Eva, what year do you think it is?" I told him, and another pause followed—longer this time. The woman started crying harder. My pulse began racing. "What?" I demanded, but no one answered. "What is going on?" The doctor pulled a chair beside the bed. His face had the careful expression people used when they were about to deliver bad news. The sight made my stomach drop. "Eva," he said gently, "you were involved in an accident." I stared at him. "What kind of accident?" "We'll talk about that later." "No." My voice came out sharper than I intended. "I want to know now." The doctor hesitated. "You suffered a head injury." I waited for the rest, but when none came, I shook my head. "So?" "So there appear to be some gaps in your memory." A cold sensation spread through my chest. "What kind of gaps?" The doctor looked uncomfortable, and the woman beside me was openly crying now. I hated both of them in that moment because everyone in the room seemed to know something I didn't. "What kind of gaps?" I repeated. The doctor took a breath. "You are not sixteen, Eva." I laughed—not because it was funny, but because it was ridiculous. "Yes, I am." "No." His voice remained calm. "You turned eighteen three months ago." The laugh died in my throat. I looked at him, then at the woman, then back at him. No one seemed to be joking. My mouth suddenly felt dry. "Eighteen?" The word barely came out, and the doctor nodded. "Based on our assessment, you've lost approximately two years of memories." For several seconds, I couldn't process what he had said. Two years—that wasn't possible. People didn't just lose two years. That happened in movies, not real life. "You're wrong." The doctor didn't answer. "You're wrong," I repeated. The woman wiped tears from her face. "Eva..." I looked at her, and something shifted inside me. A memory surfaced—not of the hospital or the accident, but of a kitchen: chocolate chip cookies, laughter, a warm hand fixing my hair before school. Recognition hit me without warning. "Elle?" Fresh tears filled her eyes. "Yes." Relief washed over her face. "Oh, thank God." My eyes locked on her. My aunt, my guardian, the person who had raised me after my parents died. I remembered her and everything about her—so why couldn't I remember the last two years? "What happened?" I whispered. No one answered immediately, and the quiet made my chest tighten. At last, Elle sat beside me and squeezed my hand. "You were found near the forest trail." The words sounded strange. "The forest trail?" She nodded. "You'd been missing for hours." A chill ran down my spine. The forest trail sat on the edge of Willow Creek, and I had walked there hundreds of times growing up. "What was I doing there?" Elle's expression faltered. "We don't know." Something about her answer seemed off. Before I could say anything else, a knock sounded on the door, and everyone turned. A nurse stepped inside. "There's someone asking to see her." Elle immediately shook her head. "No." The nurse hesitated. "He's been waiting since yesterday." My attention shifted between them. "Who?" No one answered. The nurse looked uncomfortable. Eventually, she said, "Her boyfriend." I blinked. "My what?" The nurse glanced between us. "Your boyfriend." I laughed again; this time it sounded completely unhinged. "I don't have a boyfriend." Elle's face softened. "Eva..." "No." I shook my head. "I would remember having a boyfriend." No one spoke, and the quiet itself felt like an answer. My stomach dropped. "You mean I actually do have one?" The nurse nodded. I looked at her, then at Elle, then at the doctor. Every single one of them appeared sympathetic, as though they felt sorry for me and knew what was coming next. A strange sensation settled in my chest—not fear, but something worse: the realization that my life had continued without me. Two years. An entire relationship. An entire version of myself. Gone. The door slowly opened behind the nurse, and a tall figure stepped into the room. I glanced up automatically. The boy standing there was handsome, with dark hair, broad shoulders, and concern etched across his face. He looked directly at me, and the relief in his eyes was immediate. "Eva." My chest should have tightened, but it didn't. I felt absolutely nothing. The boy's smile faded because he saw it: the confusion, the lack of recognition, the complete emptiness in my expression. His face slowly went pale. "Eva?" he repeated. I tightened my grip on the hospital blanket. "Who are you to me?"