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Authors: K.A. Harrington

Forget Me (3 page)

BOOK: Forget Me
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“I just want to see who he is,” I said. “Now I'm curious.”

“You're postponing the closure. I knew you'd chicken out. You need to do this!”

She continued to lovingly lecture me, but I couldn't hear her anymore. All I heard was the rush of blood through my head and the ragged, sharp intakes of my own breath.

Because the page had loaded. Evan Murphy lived a few towns away and looked
exactly
like Flynn. Except he was very much alive.

CHAPTER
2

D
oritos hit the floor as the open bag fell from Toni's hand. “Whoa . . .”

“Yeah,” I breathed.

“What? Who?”

Toni continued her one-word questions as I clicked around, trying to access anything else on Evan Murphy's page. But he had a good amount of privacy settings on, and the only thing I could see was that one small profile picture and his town name, Littlefield—only fifteen minutes away.

Toni jabbed a finger at the photo. “It's Flynn. I mean, it
is
him, right?”

“It can't be,” I said. “I don't know.”

“How can you not know?” Toni screeched. “FriendShare matched his face to this guy. It's him! Look!”

I didn't know how I was staying so calm. Toni was clearly going bananas. But it was like my brain had shut off all emotion so it could focus. I clicked on the photo in an attempt to enlarge it, but the resolution was terrible when I tried to zoom in. The face was Flynn's face. Those steely gray eyes that were so hard to ignore. The slope of his jaw. The sly, one-sided grin.

But it couldn't be him. I searched for something sane to grasp on to.

“He's wearing a baseball hat,” I said quickly. “Flynn never wore hats.”

“He also never said his name was Evan Murphy and he lived in Littlefield. Being an undercover hat lover obviously wasn't his biggest secret.”

I needed to get away from the computer, from the familiar face smiling at me on the screen. I pushed the chair back and stood up. “It's just someone who looks eerily like him.”

“Not eerily,” Toni said. “Exactly.”

I pulled my hair back and held it at the nape of my neck. “Could he, like, have a twin living in another town with a different last name?” I said, thinking out loud. “I know it's crazy, but what else could it be?”

“He could be alive,” Toni said.

I sank down onto the edge of my bed as a wave of nausea washed over me. I put my face in my hands and rubbed circles on my forehead. Could Flynn really be alive? How would that be possible? And . . . he let me think he was dead? Would he do that?
How
could he do that?

I dropped my hands and looked up at Toni. She was staring at me with a wary expression, probably waiting for me to lose it.

“It's impossible,” I said.

“There was no funeral,” she countered.

That was true. I'd never met Flynn's parents. He never wanted to talk about them, and I assumed he never told them about me. I never got word about a wake or funeral, and it wasn't printed in the paper. Flynn had lived in town only a couple of months, and he didn't even go to our school. He went to St. Pelagius. He didn't know anyone in town. I always assumed his family had a memorial service back where they'd come from. Somewhere in New Hampshire.

But now my brain was going haywire. No one I knew had seen his body. So how did I really know he was dead?

“The last time you saw him,” Toni said gently, “he was still alive, right?”

“Yeah, but a nurse at the hospital told me he didn't make it.”

Toni shrugged. “Maybe she was wrong. The hospital has a gazillion patients. She could've mixed things up, thought you were asking about someone else.”

I paused. That night was such a blur, especially in the hospital. I hadn't been allowed past the waiting area. I called my parents. I was hysterical, to the point where a doctor prescribed a sedative, which my mom gave me when they forced me to go home. It wasn't until the next morning, when I woke and called the hospital, that I found out Flynn was dead.

“But the cops came and took a statement,” I said. As useless as it had been. All I'd seen was a black SUV. I hadn't seen the plate. I couldn't even accurately pick out the make or model from the book they'd shown me.

“Did the cops say he was dead?” Toni asked.

I searched my fuzzy memory. “I don't think so. I just remember them asking me to describe the vehicle.”

Toni sat beside me on the bed and ran her hand over the goose bumps on my forearm. “A hit-and-run doesn't have to end in death to be a crime,” she said. “The police would still come investigate.”

I shook my head until my neck felt sore. This was crazy. Crazier than crazy. To even entertain the slight possibility that Flynn could be alive . . . it was nuts.

“Just think it through,” Toni said anxiously. “What evidence do you have of his death? He was alive when they put him in the ambulance. The only person who ever told you he was dead was a nurse, who could've been talking about the wrong patient.”

What if he didn't die? And then he, what? Just . . . slipped away? Became someone else?

No. I wasn't going to be lured by Toni's crazy-talk. She was notorious for jumping to the wildest conclusions. A neighbor talked too long to the mailman—affair! Birds fell from the sky in Guatemala—aliens! I usually rolled my eyes and ignored her insanity. But I had to admit, this time, as ridiculous as it sounded, it held a kernel of possibility.

Or maybe I just wanted it to be true.

Toni walked over to my desk and put her hand on the mouse.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Sending him a friend request.”

In one swift motion, I rose and pulled her hand away. “No, don't.”

“Why not?”

“If he's not Flynn, what would we even say? ‘Hey, don't mind us, you just look exactly like this dead kid.'”

Toni's eyes traveled back to the photo. “And if it
is
Flynn?”

“Then I don't want to scare him away. I don't want him to know I found him. Not yet.”

CHAPTER
3

T
he next morning I got ready for school on autopilot. I showered, dressed, and headed downstairs for breakfast. I passed the long mahogany table in the dining room that we only used on holidays when my grandparents came to visit from Florida. Day to day we ate casually, at a small round table in the nook of the kitchen, perfect for three. Or two. Or sometimes, just me.

I ate a bowl of cereal, the clinking of the spoon echoing in the quiet, my mind drifting. I snapped out of my trance when Mom bounded into the kitchen.

“I'm heading to work,” she said, kissing my cheek as I rinsed my bowl in the sink. A line of gray shimmered from the part in her hair, a reminder of the extra time and money she no longer had available to spend at the salon. “I made you lunch. It's in the fridge.”

“You didn't have to make me lunch, Mom.” She got up at some ungodly hour every morning to get things done—laundry, bill paying, ironing Dad's shirts before he left for work, etc. Juggling two jobs, she had to find the time where she could. “I can do it myself. I know you're rushing.”

She gave me a little smile, but it barely disguised her exhaustion. That's how my family operated. Always polite and pleasant, never acknowledging the real feelings beneath the perma-smiles. Even I played along. Whenever college came up, I always told my parents I was only a junior and I'd worry about it next year. But the truth was, I worried about it now. A lot. Thoughts of choices and applications and financial aid sometimes kept me up at night. But I didn't want to add more to their stack of Things to Worry About. For all I knew, that could be the thing to finally bring the pile crashing down. I preferred our tradition of pleasant denial.

Mom reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I'm working double shifts today, so I won't be home for dinner. And Dad . . . well, you know his hours. So making your lunch was the least I could do.”

She picked at a fingernail and forced a smile, but I knew she felt guilty. She hated that I was here alone so much.

“Don't worry about dinner,” I said, grabbing the paper sack from the fridge. “Toni and I have plans anyway.”

Lies flowed easily from me when I thought they'd make people feel better. Maybe I'd ask Toni to go out for pizza to turn it into a truth.

“Great,” Mom said cheerily. “You girls have fun!”

I kept the perma-smile on until she walked out the door.

• • •

River's End High School was built when the town was thriving. As things went downhill and people moved away, our schools thinned out. Teachers were laid off. Classrooms were closed and locked, their heating vents shut off to save money. Sometimes I found myself drawn to these unused rooms, with their empty desks and blank boards, feeling the draft of cold air seeping out from under the crack of the door.

This morning I went right to my locker. I was there for only thirty seconds before Toni appeared, from out of nowhere. She had this way of moving silently, like a ninja.

She leaned into me and whispered, “How are you doing . . . ?”

I took a deep breath. “It's all I can think about, but I don't know what to do. The first step would be figuring out if Evan is a real person. It could be a fake profile page or something. If only I had a mutual friend in common, I could try to find out more, but I don't.”

Toni smiled. “I do.”

“What?”

“Last night, I logged in to my account at home and brought up Evan's page. We have one mutual friend.”

I closed my locker and held my books to my chest. “Who?”

She grimaced like she'd just taken a bite of something bitter. “Reece Childs.”

Ugh.
I rolled my eyes. “Too Cool Reece?”

“He's worth talking to for five minutes if we can find out who Evan is.”

Reece was the party king and walked the halls with an overconfident swagger, flirting with girls and calling out to his “bros.” He was one of the fakest people in our grade. A douche of the highest order. Toni and I had nicknamed him “Too Cool Reece.” Online he friended anyone he'd ever met and even some people he hadn't. He sent me a friend request once, and I ignored it. I was picky about who I approved. Meanwhile, Reece had thousands on his list.

But apparently one of them was Evan Murphy.

I drew my lips tight, determined. “Fine. When are we doing this?”

Toni motioned over my shoulder. “How about now?”

I turned around and, sure enough, there was Too Cool Reece taking a gulp of water from the fountain. He dried his mouth with the back of his hand and started to walk away.

“Hey, Reece, wait up,” I called.

He looked at us over the top of his Aviator sunglasses. Seriously. It was cloudy out, not summer,
and
he was inside. “What's up, ladies?” He stretched out the last syllable like it contained ten
z
s.

“Do you know Evan Murphy?” I asked, getting right to the point.

He scrunched his face up as he thought. “Sounds familiar . . .”

“You're friends with him on FriendShare,” I added.

He wagged his eyebrows. “You hunting for a new boyfriend, Morgan?”

Toni had been fiddling with her phone and now she held it up. “This guy. You know him?”

Reece bent down to make up for the height difference. “I can't really—”

Toni let out an aggravated sigh. “Take the glasses off, cool guy. Come on.”

He pulled his sunglasses off and hung them on the collar of his tight V-neck. He took Toni's phone and stared at Evan's profile photo. “Oh yeah. We played in the same summer baseball league a couple years back. Cool guy. Power hitter. Lives in Littlefield.”

Flynn had an athletic frame but never mentioned any interest in sports. That didn't necessarily mean anything, though.

Reece started typing something into Toni's phone.

“Um, what are you doing?” she asked.

“Just giving you my digits.”

Toni grabbed the phone out of his hands.

“So the guy's name is really Evan?” I asked.

Reece gave me a strange look. “What else would it be?”

Toni and I exchanged a glance. “Did you ever meet Flynn, my boyfriend?” I asked.

“Nah. I heard about the car thing, though. Sorry.”

Not exactly the most delicate way to say it, but the thought was there. “Um, yeah. Thanks.”

“Is that all?” Reece said, staring at Toni like he hoped we weren't done with him.

“Yeah,” I muttered.

He looked Toni up and down. “If you ever want to hang out . . .” He made the “call me” sign with a hand up to his ear, then turned around and joined the masses.

“Gross.” Toni crossed her arms. “What a toolbag.”

I let out a long breath. “Well, now we know that Evan exists. He's a real person and has been for at least two years. And he lives in Littlefield just like his profile says.”

“But that still doesn't rule out the chance that Flynn
is
him,” Toni said.

I slid my books into the crook of my arm. “How so?”

“You never went to Flynn's house. Flynn didn't go to our school. How do you know Flynn wasn't Evan the whole time? Playing some game, telling you lies.”

My heart sank at the thought. “Why would a guy do that? To anonymously hook up? Believe me, he didn't get far.”

“Maybe he wasn't happy with his life in Littlefield. Maybe he just wanted to feel like someone else for a while. Even if it was only a few hours a week.” The way she said it made it sound like something she'd consider.

I took a moment to play with the idea, think about how it could've happened. The day we met, Flynn was alone in King's Fantasy World. I went there to take some pictures and found him hanging out around the fun house. He didn't know me, I didn't know him, so maybe he thought it would be fun to try out a new name, a new identity. We hit it off. We met again and again, and the lies built up. Until the night that he decided he didn't want to be Flynn Parkman anymore. Maybe living a double life was fun at first, but then it got tiring.

Maybe
that's
why he wanted to break up with me.

And then a car hit him. But he survived. His parents brought him home from the hospital, and all he had to do to make Flynn go away was to never step foot in River's End again. Never see me again. And, just like that, Flynn would no longer exist. Problem solved.

When I thought about it that way, it was pretty easy.

I started to feel dizzy and was dimly aware of the fact that my breathing sounded like a marathon runner's. I leaned against the wall for support. The conversations passing us in the hall blurred together.

Toni took my books from me. “Are you okay? Do you want to go to the nurse?”

“No,” I said, though my voice sounded far away. “I'm fine.”

There was a small possibility that Flynn was alive. Out there. Living another life. With a jolt, my ears cleared, and the tunnel vision relaxed. The fog in my brain was replaced with a burning need for answers.

I would not be satisfied until I knew the truth.

Toni's eyes were lined with concern. “What do you want to do?”

I pushed myself off the wall and took my books back from her. “I want to find out if my ex-boyfriend was a liar.”

BOOK: Forget Me
11.24Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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