Forgotten Self (Forgotten Self #1) (6 page)

“
And what if it's me and not him?”

He frowns. “You that's what?”

I squeeze the plastic of my water bottle. “I mean, you know what I told you last n
ight. All that
stuff about Kelly and me, glowing lights, a dream... So what if I made what I saw up in my head? Maybe all of this is just, you know, a mental disease.”

“
No,” he shakes his head. “You're not crazy.”

The water bottle is almost flat in my hand
now. “How do you know?”

Now he's off his chair and next to me. He places his hand on my shoulder. “Because you're not, okay?”

I look up into his clear eyes and the most frightening image of my life flashes through my mind.

The corner of my mouth twitches
before I can stop it.

Jonathan drops his hand. “What?”

Covering, I grin and shrug. “Nothing.”

He points at me. “You know what? I'm not even going to ask. You and your jokes rarely make sense.” A forced smile crosses his face as he sits back down to read.
Did he know...? No.

My shock has grown exponentially by the time I get back to my room. I'd seen something when Jonathan had touched my shoulder. An image. An image of
me
, broken and bloody in what I assumed to be his arms. A blinding light. A hand laid ge
ntly on my forehead. A dream,
that
dream...A sharp intake of air passes through my lips. The car accident. That had been real. And Jonathan had been the angel who saved me.

The rest of our time together is spent in a sort of awkward, tense way. I know some
thing; he knows I know something. I think we're both relieved when he leaves later that night.

School reopens two days later, just in time for Friday.  Students halfheartedly make their way across the lawn to the large brick building. There isn't much s
torm damage visible other than a couple boarded up windows and trash piled in random corners. All the remaining leaves have been torn from the trees. I jog up to Danielle, who is typing away furiously on her phone in the middle of the sidewalk.

“
Where have
you been?” I demand.

She holds up one finger while she watches the text send. “Okay. Yeah, I'm sorry. I dropped my phone in the toilet and it died. I'm still trying to catch up on my texts. Forty eight whole hours without my phone, can you imagine?”

“
You'
re addicted.”

“
To what, being social? To enjoying the abundant communication opportunities of life? You of all people should appreciate that. I mean, you're friends with like half the school.” Her phone buzzes and she's right back to it.

I roll my eyes. “U
h, I think that's a bit of an exaggeration. Anyway, what I needed you for is still kind of urgent.” She continues texting, so I grab her arm. “Like
now
urgent.”

We convene in the empty choir room. “What's going on, Abby?” Danielle is impatient, probably th
inking this isn't as crucial as I'd implied.

I tell her the whole story, starting with the car ride with Lucas and ending with the image I'd gotten from Jonathan touching me. I tell her about Kelly and the glowing lights, and the river incident. It's like
a repeat of my recap to Jonathan. Except for this time he's part of the story.

Again I exclude my nighttime activities.

“
What. The. Hell.” Danielle's eyes are huge. “Are you making this up?”

I sigh. “No.”

Danielle shakes her head in wonder. “That is the c
raziest stuff I have ever heard. And what's up with Kelly
and
Lucas having the same light?”

“
So you believe me?”

Danielle gives me the 'duh' look. “Even if you were having a schizophrenic episode right now, I would still back you up.”

Relieved, I hug her t
ightly for a moment. “Thank God. This is all so messed up.”

The first bell rings, warning us we only have a few minutes until class starts.

Danielle clasps her hands together decidedly. “Okay, this is what we're gonna do. I don't trust Lucas. And for now,
I don't trust Jon either. So act normal today. Nothing's up. After school we'll meet up at my house and figure out what the hell's going on.”

The day is weird but I act as casual as possible. Well, other than completely avoiding Lucas and skipping lunch
. I sit in my car instead, trying to read a book, not having a real go of it. I keep an eye out for any parking lot approachers, but it's dead out here. We have a closed campus lunch and it's chilly outside.

Of course, as soon as I don't look up for five m
inutes there's a knock at my window. Mother eff. I was hoping to avoid any conversation right now, feeling overwhelmed by the weirdness of everything going on. And as soon as I look up to see who it is I wish I hadn't.

Clearing my throat, I roll down the
window. “Lucas.”

“
Hey, I was hoping we could talk.” Just adding to his freak ways, he's wearing a short sleeved shirt. It's like 40 degrees.

“
Yeah, um, I'm pretty busy here.” I gesture at my book.

He nods seriously. “I can see that. But this is important.
”

I roll the window back up, debating. Then I sigh and hit the unlock button. Guess I'll see what he has to say.

He walks around and gets in.

“
So, what do you want. Here to explain your stalker ways?” I frown and fold my arms.

“
Well, more like here to apo
logize.” He looks straight at me, forcing my gaze with his own. Damn his good looks – and that familiarity... “I'm sorry for scaring you.”

We stare. Magnetic. Awkward. Well, a little hot, too.

I raise an eyebrow after a moment, breaking the trance. “That's
it?”

“
For now.” And then he opens the car door and leaves.

When Danielle and I meet up after school, I tell her about seeing Lucas.

“
That's bizarre,” she comments, dropping her bag on the floor in her room. “But I told you not to act weird today. If
you hadn't skipped lunch...”

“
I just didn't want to see Jonathan.” I sit on the plush rug in front of her long, oval mirror. That would've made for a weird lunch. Hey Jonathan – oh, I mean angel who rescued me from certain death. Ah-huh.

She checks her ref
lection in the same mirror and then plops onto her bed. “It's understandable. But I'll tell you what, he wasn't acting weird at all. Which maybe doesn't mean anything.” She pulls a nail file out of nowhere and begins to self-manicure.

Examining my own nail
s, I say, “Maybe he and Lucas are co-conspirators in my future murder.”

“
Could be. But something tells me this is a lot weirder than that.”

In the end, Danielle and I can come up with no good explanation for anything. It's like a puzzle we're trying to co
mplete blindfolded. The events seem so disconnected.

I head home after we watch a scary movie. Scary movies are Danielle's thing. She owns at least fifty of them. She loves to watch, re-watch, and quote them. I, on the other hand, while finding the movie
fun while I'm watching it, pay for it afterward by getting jumpy and a little bit paranoid.

When I walk out to my car, I check underneath it and in my backseat for any demon babies –
courtesy of tonight's movie,
Demon Babies 2
– and when I deem it safe, g
et in and drive away. I flip NPR on and my car hums smoothly over suburban roads toward home.

Not long into the drive, a black flash moves in the corner of my eye. My heart catches but when I look in the rearview mirror I see nothing. Must have been a dog
or something. I'm still shaking my head at my silliness when it's right in front of me.

I slam on my breaks, tires squealing, until I'm right in front of it. A tall figure in black robes, no discernible features. “What the...?” I begin, before looking ar
ound in a panic. There's no traffic. It's late enough that most everyone who lives around this neighborhood is asleep. I throw the clutch into reverse and jam the accelerator. Some freak is either playing a practical joke or I'm about to get robbed. Either
way I'm out of here.

I look over my shoulder, keeping my path straight until I reach an intersection. I pull the steering wheel and switch to first gear. And as I begin to race down this new road, I look back at where the figure was.

Nothing.

That eerie
feeling from the cemetery strikes me. The feeling of someone watching. I shiver a little bit. Things are getting crazier by the minute. Who are these people in black robes? Is there like a cult convention going on in town or something?

Insanity could help
fully explain it all, though. The lights, the feelings, the figures.

But I can't reconcile myself to it. I remember something from a long time ago, a Johnny Depp movie maybe, saying that crazy people don't know they're crazy. So if I think I'm crazy...I'm
not actually crazy. I think.

What I
know
is that I should be more frightened than I am. Shouldn't I be rushing off to a therapist or the cops? Instead I let these things happen and react only with wonder.

That's insane for sure.

After I go home and dres
s in warmer clothing, I make my way to the cemetery. I'm drawn there, and it's not just grief. Something else – something bigger... When she was alive, Kelly and I had shared the feeling of there being
more
than just this life.

Then she had died, and that
went away for a long time. I couldn't have cared less whether or not anything meant something. Until the beginning of this summer. If I think really hard about it, I can actually pinpoint the night that things shifted. Her anniversary. I'd driven up to ou
r spot and then that accident...the one from my dream. That had actually happened.

My foot unconsciously presses into the gas pedal. The car jerks forward, and I have to shake my head roughly to focus. I ease the speed down.

Little chills of apprehension
flutter through my limbs.

The cemetery sign appears and I forget about that night for the moment. I pull swiftly through the gates and down a few small roads to where her grave lies. I kill the ignition and, pulling my gloves on, step outside into the chi
lled air.

It's pitch black, no moon tonight. The chills reappear down my arms and legs. I shake it off and stride over to Kelly. Taking a seat on the grass, I look around the area to make sure I'm alone. It's empty.

My focus turns to Kelly's headstone. “Hi
, Kelly,” I whisper reverently. I rarely talk to her, so the words surprise me when they come out. “Something's happening to me.” The silence of the cemetery presses in on my ears. I can't even hear any traffic.

I stuff my hands into my jacket pockets nerv
ously. “I wish you were here. I bet we'd be able to figure it out together.”

I drop my monologue for a few moments. Maybe it's stupid to be doing this. But then something inside of me encourages me to continue. After a little hesitation, I do.

“
Remember
how you and I always used to watch the sunsets together? Remember how we'd talk about there being something else? It was so comforting. It was something you and I shared, something that set us apart from everyone else.” Emotion forces itself into my throat
, and I have to swallow several times before going on. “When you died, I forgot. I was so angry... The only thing that mattered was finding that man. Killing him. Kelly, I wanted to kill him.” A sort of weakness runs down my arms as I admit this – to her a
nd to myself. “One day I woke up and that horrible part of me was just...gone. It was like a plastic bag had been pulled off my head. I could breathe again.” I drop my gaze to the ground.

“
I didn't mean for you not to become as important, Kelly. I promise
. But it doesn't matter now because I
remember
that feeling. Do you know what I saw the other day? Your light, Kelly. Someone else has light just like yours.” A little laugh escapes me. “I never told you about that. Well, now you know. You used to glow lik
e...an angel. This boy -” I can't help the grin that possesses my mouth. “Yes, a boy. I'm sure you would be surprised.” That had been a popular subject between us – my refusal to date anyone after Jonathan. She just couldn't understand it. “He had that glo
w and I don't know what it means. But there's something about him that's so familiar. I know him from somewhere, I can feel it.”