Simon peers at me. “Funny.”
“Simon, he doesn’t know who you are,” Chase says with blood all over his face.
Simon looks over at Chase, then me, then back at Chase.
“It’s true. Xander has amnesia from a car accident he was in a month ago.”
Simon’s head jerks to me. “Xander, man, I’m sorry to hear that. You doing okay?”
I stare at him, feeling like a pathetic loser once again. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know you.”
Pity crosses his face. It’s an expression I’ve gotten to see on too many people’s faces the last month. He pats me on the back. If my hands weren’t cuffed behind me, I would punch him in the face.
Jamison and Crandle return just as Noah comes outside with another man I don’t know.
“I won’t press charges,” the man says. “We’ve handled the matter privately. Please have them leave through the alley though. I don’t need my customers thinking people can get away with that kind of behavior.”
“I’m sorry,” I say to him right away, feeling guilty I created a mess in his place of business.
He gives me a sympathetic expression. “You’re forgiven, Xander. I hope your memory comes back quickly, man.”
Once again, another person knows me, and I have no clue who they are.
The cops finally unfasten our handcuffs. Sobered up by now, I turn to Chase. “I’m sorry.”
He nods. “Already forgiven, but next time, can you not hit my face? I think I’m going to need a nose job.”
The four of us laugh, and I’m reminded that, as depressing as it’s been, I still have things in my life to be grateful for, like these guys. Maybe I shouldn’t kill myself after all.
6
Xander
Present Day
Noahand I have a few beers and dinner together. He said Piper is out with the girls, and I almost ask him where. The thought crosses my mind to go there and make Charlotte talk to me, but I don’t ask.
It’s after eight when I get to the hotel. My thoughts aren’t any less messy than before, except now I’m confused about my feelings for Billie and what I felt with Charlotte earlier.
If only I could remember. How many times have I said that over the last six months? Why can’t I remember?
I pull at my hair as I step inside my hotel room. After a quick shower, I lie in bed and replay the day and my conversation with Noah.
Then it hits me. Noah told me he thought Charlotte and I texted a lot.
I pull out my phone and type the name Charlotte in. Hundreds of messages pop up. I scroll, and, after fifteen minutes, I get to the very top of our text conversations. For the next few hours, I read through everything, with various emotions popping up.
A few texts make me laugh. Some make me sad. Most make me feel wanted.
She’s sweet.
She’s funny.
She’s raw and honest.
Over the next few hours, I learn a lot about Charlotte...and myself.
It’s very clear Charlotte wasn’t pursuing me. I may not remember everything, but reading these messages, I’m 100 percent obsessed with this girl. I initiated most of the conversations. I’ve pursued her. Not a day goes by from the first text message to the day before the accident that I didn’t begin several conversations with her. From the time I got up until I went to bed, she was all I thought about, based on my text messages to her.
