I bite my bottom lip, thinking it over. “You wouldn’t mind?”
Please don’t say no.
He shrugs. “Got nothing else going on. I can either destroy parts of my house or fix yours.”
“That bored?” I lean against the doorframe as I cross my arms, enjoying the easy way it is to talk to him about anything and everything. Or nothing in this case.
I take out my phone and hand it to him to put his number in.
“Remember how to use that?”
He snorts at my lame joke. “Ha, funny.” He fiddles with it for a second, and then his phone chimes.
“Did you just text yourself?”
“It’s easier if I have your number saved, too, to prevent the auto filter from thinking you’re a scam or something.”
“Right. Well, thanks again.”
“Anytime. Take care, Diana.”
I wait till I see him on the bike, then wait some more. He’s just sitting there.
“Ain’t leaving till I know you’re locked inside and safe,” he calls out.
“Oh, right.” I wave and then shut the door and lock it quickly.
Nana laughs behind me as she walks by. “Yeah, not in danger at all.”
Not sure how that’s dangerous. I just locked the door; I didn’t take out a loan from him. Was it because I did what he said? That it didn’t even take a second thought to listen and obey?
I look at my phone and see he indeed texted himself. The first thing I notice is that he put his name in as “Karter-Law Hofstadter.” Then I see what he texted himself.
Dinner tomorrow night?
Before I can even contemplate that, I get a text back from him.
Sure, pick you up at seven.
He isn’t asking. He’s telling. And that does all sorts of things for me. One being that I don’t hate it.
Still, I feel like I should reply or something. But since I have no idea what, I just send him a thumbs-up.
God, can I be any more of a dork?
Chapter 6 - Karter
Ipocket my wallet and look in the mirror one more time. There’s one damn hair that keeps falling in front, unlike the rest. It’s been pissing me off, but I have nothing to keep it in place except water. Apparently, the old me didn’t believe in gel or hairspray. I checked the other bathrooms, but not the one that was obviously Ruby’s. It felt wrong going through her stuff. Might seem silly and childish—it’s just a room—but I’m human. I fear what I might find there. Or what I won’t. Going into anything that’s Ruby’s seems like a college roommate situation: You can see, but never touch.
Actually, this entire place feels a bit off. There are places here I just don’t feel right in. There’s a room in the back that holds memories of Law and Special K. It seems like someone else when I look at the pictures. Nothing connects. More like a “huh, that’s interesting” picture than “oh wow, I remember that.”
I waited till I was alone, away from the club, before I looked at her and me. I wanted to keep my thoughts to myself, which is why I never wanted to see any photos in the hospital. When I look at them, I see myself, but I don’t feel like me in the pictures.
I googled what I should do about the house. Certain parts feel off, just wrong to be in. Thankfully, the bedroom isn’t one of them, so I don’t have to sleep on the couch. But the porch swing? The room that must have been a craft roomor something that’s now the storage room? Anything that’s obviously Ruby’s? All areas I don’t go into willingly.
The internet says this is “normal”—a stupid word if there ever was one to describe what I’m going through. That the feelings and the random places I don’t go are all common. I would like to actually talk to someone rather than get a confirmation from AI, but I don’t want to talk to anyone at the club. It’s stupid, but I would rather seek help from the damn internet than someone I know who can judge me for not remembering. The only other person who I know who lost their memory is Flint’s old lady, Kitten. And she’s close to Ruby—thus, someone I stay away from.
I can talk to an old lady or anyone at the club. I have my own memories with them too. It’s a little convoluted in my head, but I get it sorted enough to deal with the discomfort of it all. But when you add into the mix their feelings about me because of what’s going down with Ruby, you get people not necessarily willing to talk. Or maybe I’m just not willing to talk to someone who I can feel judging me and who thinks of me as a prick for forgetting my own kid.
