Remember to Forget, Revised and Expanded (16 page)

Aiden hesitantly opens the letter and reads it. Once he's done, he looks up at me
with sad eyes.

“So, basically, you don't wanna hang out with us or anything at all anymore?” Aiden
asks.

I nod slowly.

“All right.”

I've never seen him at a loss for words. Neither of us do anything. We won't even
look at each other.

Finally, Aiden stands up and starts leaving my room.

“Well,” he mumbles, “I'm right down the street if you ever need anything or just
wanna play FIFA again.”

I nod.

“See ya around, I guess,” he says quietly.

Chapter Twenty-One

LEVI

It's been 241 days.

It's been almost four weeks since I last saw anyone but my dad or Candace. I haven't
gone anywhere or done anything remotely interesting.

Aiden hasn't stopped by since I told him. I don't think he really knew how to handle
it since he's, well, he's Aiden. He likes being happy and being around people. I
think he thought I would warm up to him. And I was starting to, which is something
I didn't want.

When I told him, he seemed heartbroken. He read the letter and stayed quiet for a
while afterward. He left like the first day I met him, sad and quiet. The total opposite
of how he usually is. He said bye, and I haven't seen him since.

I've avoided Delilah as best I can. I see her in the neighborhood or at therapy sometimes.
She's given up on saying hi or smiling, or even communicating at all. It's like she
doesn't know who I am.

But I guess that's my own fault. I told her to forget me.

I've gone back to my old ways. I stay alone, mostly in my room. I don't do much.
I've gone back to that numb feeling. I feel anxious and dull and tired. I feel like
nothing at all.

There are no more Skittles in my pill container.

I haven't written in this notebook for a long time, but today it was necessary. I
just need someone, I guess, and this is the closest I have. I guess I'm simply writing
about everything that's happened the past month because I've been holding it all
in. I need to let it all out, and here's a place to do that.

Delilah left me a letter a while ago. It's her finished project. She wrote on the
envelope that she thought I might like to read it. I can't bring myself to look at
it, though. I don't want to see what she has to say about me. I've contemplated every
day whether or not to open it, but I can't get the courage to tear open the envelope.
I'm too nervous about what's inside.

Most days I try to remember, but not think too much, about Delia. I find that my
memories of her are slowly fading away. I don't remember them quite as vividly as
I used to, and that scares me. My flashbacks still come, but parts are missing. Some
of them are getting jumbled with newer memories, and I can't tell what happened when.
I hate it.

I think my dad is more worried about me than he used to be. He sighs more often,
and he looks tired. I feel like I'm wearing him out, just like I did to my mum. I
wear everyone out. Even myself. The whole reason I started writing today is because
of tomorrow. Tomorrow is this big holiday called Thanksgiving. I didn't even know
what that was until a few hours ago. I guess Americans eat food to celebrate settling
on some rock. I don't get what eating turkey has to do with that, but whatever.

The problem is, we're going over to Delilah's. Apparently my dad has celebrated with
them since he moved here. We're not even American, so I don't see why we're celebrating.
He told me this morning. I didn't handle it very well. I may or may not have punched
the wall.

And my hand may or may not be bruised and hurting right now.

I'm debating even going. It'll be extremely awkward for everyone, not just Delilah
and me. And I don't want to be surrounded by a bunch of people I don't know. That's
way too many people to be confused as to why I don't talk, and why I'm me.

I'm really nervous. What if Delilah hates me? Wait, I know she does—why wouldn't
she?

How am I supposed to celebrate some weird holiday with strangers and someone I told
I never wanted to see again? I can already feel my anxiety coming.

I can't go. I won't go. I'll say I'm sick. This is so stressful, I hate this. Why
did I ever have to move here in the first place? I wouldn't have

Suddenly, something falls off my bedside table and onto my lap.

It's Delilah's project.

I put it inside my drawer and leave my room.

My dad is eating dinner without me, which is what usually happens. I'm often not
hungry or I just have cereal. I don't really like eating with my dad anyway. It's
extremely awkward because all I hear is our chewing.

But today, I sit across from him. He looks up at me and grins.

“What's up, bud?” he says with his mouth full. He still calls me bud even though
I'm seventeen, and I wish he'd stop.

I shrug.

“Something's wrong, I can tell,” he says, putting his fork down.

I type quickly in my phone. “I don't feel well. I think I'm sick. I can't go tomorrow.”

He tilts his head to the side and squints at me. “You look okay . . . You sure you
just don't want to go?”

I nod and hold my stomach as if I'm queasy.

“I know about you and Delilah and Aiden. And I know you're not sick. You think I
don't know why you punched the wall this morning? I wasn't born yesterday.”

Of course he knows.

“You're going to go tomorrow. It'll be good for you. You need to get out of the house.
You've been in here for months. You barely do anything, and it's not healthy.”

I glare at him and leave the table. I shove my chair in as I leave, causing it to
crash into the table.

“Levi!” my dad yells.

I continue walking until I'm back in my room, and I slam the door shut, causing some
things in my room to shake.

I plop down on my bed and look up at the ceiling. I count to one hundred to try to
relax myself, but it doesn't work.

I wish I could just disappear right now. No one would notice, or even care. I wouldn't
have to celebrate some stupid American holiday with stupid American people I don't
know. I wouldn't be having anxiety over all of this if I could disappear.

I could disappear,
just like that.

Chapter Twenty-Two

DELILAH

D
elilah, can you go check on the turkey?” my mom asks for the hundredth time. I
exhale heavily and quickly look in the oven. The turkey looks the same as it did
last time.

I head into the living room and sit on the couch next to my brother, Noah. He's home
from college for the next few days.

“Look at Elmo!” my younger sister, Lucy, screams as she points to the balloon on
TV. She's been watching the Thanksgiving Day Parade for a while, screaming every
time a character she likes comes on.

“Yeah, cool,” I mumble, seeing a car pull into the driveway. “Mom, the Harrisons
are here!”

I've been dreading seeing Levi again. I know it's going to be weird to have to sit
through a whole meal with him when I haven't talked to him in a month.

“Can you get the door?” my mom asks.

“No!” I yell, not wanting to be the person to greet them.

“So I finally get to meet your boyfriend?” Noah asks.

“He's not my boyfriend,” I mumble, rolling my eyes.

“Not from what Mom's told me.”

“She doesn't even know anything. We're not even friends.”

Noah talks in a girly voice and says,
“Delilah met this new boy, Levi. Delilah's
been hanging out with Levi. Delilah did her English project on Levi, oh my goodness,
it's just so adorable!”

“Shut up!” I say, nudging into his shoulder.

Just then, the doorbell rings. I instantly become more nervous at the thought of
seeing Levi again. I don't know how I'm going to eat dinner with him. He's willfully
ignored me for a month, and I am sure he will ignore me today. I'm surprised he's
even coming.

Noah doesn't get up to get the door, and neither do I. I refuse.

“You go,” Noah says.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Lucy, go answer the door,” Noah says.

“Noah, she's three! She can't even reach the doorknob,” I tell him. I reluctantly
get off the couch and head toward the door. My hand stays on the knob for a few seconds
before finally opening the door.

“Hi, Delilah!” Mr. Harrison says, handing me a pie.

“Happy Thanksgiving! Come on in!” I say with as much happiness as I can. I don't
want Levi to know how nervous I am.

I look over to Levi, who is behind his dad. He's looking at the ground, and his feet
are turned in as he shifts his weight from side to side. He quickly looks up at me
before looking back down, his cheeks turning slightly red.

“Hi, Levi,” I say quietly as he walks past me and up the stairs, following his dad.

He doesn't even look up at me, but I swear I saw him flinch a little.

“Who are you?” I hear Lucy ask when Levi gets into the living room.

“That's Levi,” I tell her. She's has to tilt her head far back in order to look up
at him. Levi waves a little to her, and she waves back.

“I'm Lucy, I'm three, and I like to play Barbies. Do you like Barbies?” she asks
Levi.

He shakes his head and smiles a little.

“Levi, that's my brother, Noah,” I say quietly. I figure I should introduce them
since Levi obviously isn't going to introduce himself.

Levi doesn't even look at me when I talk. I feel like I'm invisible to him.

Do I really cause him so much pain that he won't even look at me?

“Hey,” Noah says, reaching out to do that weird handshake boys do. Levi looks down
awkwardly at Noah's hand and raises his eyebrows. “Dude, it's daps,” Noah mumbles.

Levi makes a confused expression and shrugs.

“Let's just forget that happened,” Noah says. I can tell he's trying not to laugh;
I am too. This is already so awkward.

Next, my mom and stepdad come out to introduce themselves to Levi. I already told
my family about how Levi is, but I don't think they actually realized what I meant,
or understood how someone just doesn't talk. My mom asks Levi a ton of questions.
I think she thought he would give a response, but all he does is shrug or shake his
head.

We all sit down at the table a few minutes later. Of course, Levi is sitting across
from me. He stares down at his empty plate and moves his fork side to side until
the food is ready.

It's going to be a long day.

Levi picks a small piece of turkey and piles a bunch of mashed potatoes onto his
plate. He doesn't take anything else but those two. I wonder if he doesn't understand
the point of Thanksgiving or if he just doesn't like the food.

“So, Levi, how do you like it here so far?” my stepdad, Cory, asks.

Levi shrugs and pushes his potatoes around his plate.

“You're quiet,” Lucy says.

Levi nods, and I can tell he's holding back a smile. At least he likes someone at
the table.

Everyone else continues like this is a normal family dinner. Levi continues to not
acknowledge my existence, and I stay pretty quiet. I feel extremely awkward, and
I don't know what to say or do. I just listen to everyone else talk, and I sometimes
add to the conversation, but not much. Every now and again, I catch Levi looking
up at me, and he blushes every time.

After dinner, Noah, Cory, and Mr. Harrison go watch the football game. I help my
mom clean the dishes since I have nothing better to do. Lucy wanted to show Levi
her room, which he surprisingly agreed to do.

“Levi is interesting,” my mom says.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“What happened with you guys?”

I stop drying the plate and put it down on the counter. “What?”

“Well, for a while you two hung out. And today you will barely look at each other.
Is there something I should know about?”

“No.”

“Delilah, you don't have to be embarrassed to tell me about your relationships.”

I widen my eyes. “Mom! Do you think I dated Levi or something?”

“Well, yes, I mean—”

"Mom, no. We were friends, if even that. Whatever it was is over.”

“If you say so. But I see the way you look at each other when you think the other
isn't watching.”

“Mom, stop! I'm done with this conversation. Good-bye,” I say jokingly, leaving the
kitchen. I can hear Lucy in the living room, and when I walk out into the hall, I
see her sitting with Levi. They're both cross-legged on the floor. Levi looks so
large compared to Lucy, it's cute. I stand there quietly and watch.

“How old are you?” Lucy asks.

Levi holds up one finger, and then seven.

“You're seven?”

Levi shakes his head and does it again.

“Seventeen?”

Levi nods.

“You're old. I'm three. Did you know that?”

It's about the tenth time she's told him how old she is.

I like how Levi is acting with Lucy. It's cute how he's willing to sit with her,
and she's the only person he's actually smiled at today.

“Wanna hear a story?” Lucy asks, reaching out and grabbing Levi's hands. “I can tell
you're a good listener because you don't talk.” She puts her palms face down on Levi's
hands, and they're barely big enough to cover half. Levi doesn't pull away like I
thought he would; he just looks at Lucy with a smile on his face. His expression
is relaxed, and he looks
happy.

“Come on, lean close. It's a secret story,” Lucy whispers, but it's loud enough for
me to hear. Levi leans closer to her, and she puts her hands around his ear. She
whispers something that I can't make out.