CHAPTER 13: The Memory Between Us
2109 Words
I didn't sleep that night.
Not even for a minute.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the same thing.
Rain.
A dark street.
Ezekiel standing in front of me.
His eyes full of tears.
And my own voice—
If I remember you, I'll come back.
I kept replaying those words in my head.
Who was I talking to?
Why was I crying?
Why was Ezekiel crying?
And most importantly—
what happened after I made that promise?
I reached for the notebook.
It was lying beside me.
I stared at the cover.
I was afraid to open it.
Not because I was afraid of the equation anymore.
I was afraid of what I might remember.
Still, I opened it.
The page was blank.
I almost sighed in relief.
Then a single sentence appeared.
YOU ASKED TO FORGET HIM.
I froze.
“Why?”
The words disappeared.
Another appeared.
BECAUSE REMEMBERING HIM HURT TOO MUCH.
My chest tightened.
“What happened?”
The notebook stayed silent.
“Please.”
Nothing.
I turned the page.
A photograph appeared.
I stared at it.
It was me.
Older.
Standing beside Ezekiel.
We were smiling.
Not the awkward smile of classmates.
Not the smile of rivals.
The kind of smile people had when they were completely comfortable with each other.
His arm was around my shoulder.
My head was resting against him.
We looked—
happy.
I touched the picture.
“I don't remember this.”
The photograph disappeared.
Then the notebook wrote:
YOU WERE HAPPY.
I swallowed.
“Then why did I forget?”
The answer came slowly.
BECAUSE HAPPINESS WASN'T THE PROBLEM.
I waited.
WHAT HAPPENED AFTER WAS.
The page went blank.
I closed the notebook.
I couldn't take it anymore.
I needed to talk to him.
---
The next morning, I arrived at school before everyone else.
Ezekiel was already there.
Of course.
He was sitting at his desk, reading.
When he saw me, he immediately closed his book.
“You remembered something.”
It wasn't a question.
I stopped.
“How did you know?”
“You have that look.”
“What look?”
“The one you had yesterday.”
I walked toward him.
“I saw a photograph.”
His face changed.
“What kind?”
“Us.”
Silence.
“You and me.”
He looked away.
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“Were we…”
He couldn't finish.
“Happy?”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
“Why did I ask you to make me forget?”
His jaw tightened.
“I told you.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You told me something happened. You didn't tell me what.”
He looked at me.
“You're not ready.”
“I decide that.”
He stood.
“And what happens if you're wrong?”
“Then I'll deal with it.”
“You always say that.”
“Because I mean it.”
He stepped closer.
“You said that before.”
My heart skipped.
“Before?”
He nodded.
“You said you'd deal with everything.”
“And?”
“You couldn't.”
I stared at him.
“Then tell me what happened.”
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then quietly said:
“You chose to save me.”
I froze.
“What?”
“You chose me over everything else.”
“Why is that bad?”
“Because the equation doesn't allow that.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did it do?”
He didn't answer.
“Ezekiel.”
His eyes became red.
“It took you.”
---
I couldn't speak.
“Taken me how?”
He looked down.
“You disappeared.”
“Like a reset?”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“Worse.”
I swallowed.
“What happened?”
“You were there one second.”
His voice trembled.
“And then you weren't.”
I felt tears forming.
“What did you do?”
“I looked for you.”
“And?”
“I found nothing.”
“Then how did you remember?”
“You left me something.”
“What?”
He looked at me.
“A promise.”
My heart stopped.
The memory returned.
Rain.
His face.
My hand in his.
If I remember you, I'll come back.
I whispered:
“I promised I'd come back.”
He nodded.
“You did.”
“And I forgot.”
“Yes.”
“I'm sorry.”
He shook his head.
“Don't apologize.”
“But—”
“You didn't choose to forget.”
I looked at him.
“Then who did?”
He didn't answer.
The classroom door opened.
Students started entering.
Our conversation ended.
But the question stayed.
Who made me forget?
---
That day, I couldn't concentrate.
Every lesson reminded me of him.
Every time I looked at Ezekiel, I wondered what else I had forgotten.
At lunch, I found him sitting alone.
I sat beside him.
He looked surprised.
“You're sitting here?”
“Apparently.”
He smiled.
“You usually sit somewhere else.”
“Maybe I'm changing.”
He looked at me.
“You are.”
I opened my lunch.
Then asked:
“Were we friends first?”
“Yes.”
“Rivals?”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
He hesitated.
“Best friends.”
I smiled.
“And after that?”
He looked away.
“Something more.”
My heart beat faster.
“How much more?”
He laughed quietly.
“You really want me to say it?”
“Yes.”
He looked at me.
“We fell in love.”
I stopped eating.
I stared at him.
“You're serious.”
“Yes.”
“Who confessed first?”
He smiled.
“You.”
I almost laughed.
“Me?”
“You.”
“What did I say?”
He thought for a moment.
“You said…”
He smiled.
“'I think I like losing to you.'”
I laughed.
“That sounds stupid.”
“It was.”
“Then why did you like it?”
“Because I knew what you meant.”
“What did I mean?”
“You didn't like losing.”
He leaned closer.
“You liked having someone worth competing with.”
I smiled.
“That actually sounds like me.”
“It was.”
---
We spent the rest of lunch talking about that timeline.
Not everything.
Just little things.
Our first competition.
Our first argument.
The first time we studied together.
The first time he brought me food.
The first time I called him when I was upset.
The first time he held my hand.
Every memory sounded ordinary.
But somehow...
they felt precious.
Because I couldn't remember them.
And yet I missed them.
How could you miss something that never happened to you?
I didn't know.
But I did.
---
After class, we walked toward the library.
Ezekiel suddenly stopped.
“What?”
He pointed toward the hallway.
“Look.”
I followed his gaze.
There was a bulletin board.
A list of students selected for the next academic competition.
I scanned the names.
Then I saw ours.
ELLE
EZEKIEL
I smiled.
“Again.”
He nodded.
“Again.”
I looked at him.
“You know what?”
“What?”
“This rivalry is getting ridiculous.”
He smiled.
“You're enjoying it.”
“Maybe.”
“You are.”
I laughed.
“Fine.”
Then I noticed something.
Our names were written beside each other.
Always.
First and second.
Second and first.
No matter what happened—
we were always close.
I looked at him.
“Maybe that's why.”
“Why what?”
“Why the equation keeps putting us together.”
He stared at me.
“What if it's not trying to separate us?”
I frowned.
“What?”
“What if we're supposed to find each other?”
My heart stopped.
He looked at me.
“Maybe that's why I remember.”
I whispered:
“Because you always find me.”
He nodded.
“And maybe that's why you always come back.”
---
That night, something changed.
I opened the notebook.
The equation was different.
JOSH — 59%
EZEKIEL — 62%
I stared.
Ezekiel had passed Josh.
My heart raced.
Then the numbers disappeared.
Only one line remained.
SECOND VARIABLE: CHOSEN.
I whispered:
“Chosen?”
A new sentence appeared.
NOT BY THE EQUATION.
I held my breath.
BY YOU.
I stared at the page.
“No.”
The ink changed.
YOU HAVE BEGUN TO CHOOSE HIM.
I closed the notebook.
“No.”
I opened it again.
The same words remained.
I shook my head.
“I'm not choosing anyone.”
The notebook replied:
YOU DON'T HAVE TO SAY IT.
My heart sank.
Because it was right.
I had started looking for Ezekiel when I entered a room.
I noticed when he wasn't in class.
I waited for his messages.
I smiled when he teased me.
I wanted to beat him.
I wanted to understand him.
I wanted to remember him.
Maybe that was already a choice.
---
The next day, Ezekiel wasn't at school.
Again.
I stared at his empty seat.
Something felt wrong.
I asked around.
Nobody knew.
After lunch, I received a message.
Come to the old classroom.
No name.
But I knew.
I went.
The room was empty.
The lights were off.
I stepped inside.
“Ezekiel?”
Nothing.
I walked toward the window.
Then I heard the door close behind me.
I turned.
Ezekiel was standing there.
His face was serious.
“You came.”
“You told me to.”
“I didn't.”
I froze.
“What?”
“I didn't send that message.”
My blood went cold.
“Then who did?”
He looked at my phone.
“Show me.”
I handed it to him.
He read the message.
His expression changed.
“Elle…”
“What?”
“We need to leave.”
“Why?”
He grabbed my hand.
“Because whoever sent that message…”
He looked toward the door.
“…knows about the reset.”
The lights suddenly went out.
I gasped.
Ezekiel pulled me closer.
“Stay beside me.”
“Ezekiel—”
“Don't move.”
The room was completely dark.
Then—
a voice came from somewhere behind us.
“You two always find each other.”
My blood froze.
Ezekiel stiffened.
I couldn't see who was speaking.
“Who are you?”
A quiet laugh.
“You really don't remember me?”
I gripped Ezekiel's hand.
He whispered:
“Don't answer.”
The voice continued.
“I watched all of it.”
My heart pounded.
“Every reset.”
Ezekiel stepped in front of me.
“Leave her alone.”
The person laughed.
“You still protect her.”
Then the lights came back.
Nobody was there.
Only a piece of paper lay on the floor.
Ezekiel picked it up.
His face went pale.
“What?”
He handed it to me.
Three words were written.
REMEMBER THE RAIN.
I stared.
The memory hit me.
Rain.
Ezekiel.
My hand in his.
My promise.
But this time, there was something else.
Someone standing behind us.
Someone watching.
Someone holding the notebook.
Someone saying:
“You can't change the equation.”
I gasped.
I finally remembered.
The night I asked to forget Ezekiel—
someone else was there.
Someone had been controlling the reset.
And I knew their voice.
I looked at Ezekiel.
“Ezekiel…”
“What?”
“I remember.”
His face changed.
“What?”
I whispered:
“The person who started it.”
He stepped closer.
“Who?”
I looked toward the empty doorway.
My voice shook.
“I don't know his name.”
“Then what do you know?”
I closed my eyes.
“I know why he did it.”
Ezekiel waited.
I opened my eyes.
“He wasn't trying to make me forget you.”
Ezekiel stared.
“Then what was he trying to do?”
I looked down at the note.
And whispered:
“He was trying to make sure…”
I swallowed.
“…that I would never love you again.”
The room went silent.
And somewhere outside—
a bell rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The notebook inside my bag opened by itself.
A final sentence appeared:
THE EZEKIEL VARIABLE HAS BEEN ACTIVATED.
Then underneath it:
NOW THE REAL STORY BEGINS.
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