“What’s the last thing you remember, Joey?” Celeste pressed on. “Do you recall what happened to you before you passed out?”
“I-I remember talking to your sister Arice in the lobby . . . then I was talking to some guy outside the building . . . I remember he looked alarmed about me leaving, but I don’t know why. Something happened then, but everything is a blur or a blank. I’m sorry,” I said to their disappointed faces. “I do have this feeling that there’s something really important I should be worrying about, but I don’t know what it is. It’s like a nagging splinter at the back of my head.” I winced, holding my temple in pain.
Every time I tried to recapture a lost memory, my head throbbed violently in retaliation. “God, my head is hurting so bad. What did you do to me, Celeste?”
“I tried to search for your memories, to see what happened to you,” she explained. “But they are locked inside your head. You’ve gone into some sort of lockdown: you’ve blocked your mind from outside intrusion. I tried prodding, and you lashed out pretty hard at me. I think you’re instinctively protecting yourself.”
“Protecting myself from what?” I asked, startled.
“That’s what I was trying to find out.”
“Have you asked Craig what happened?” Tristan asked. “Maybe he can shed light on what’s going on here.”
“Craig doesn’t remember anything, either. He’s very disoriented and confused. We took him to his cabin to recover; he was barely conscious when we left. He must have been talking to Joey about last night. He was really worried about wild animals attacking the camp. Whatever hit Joey and caused her amnesia must have got him, too.”
“Wait, there are wild animals attacking?” I asked in surprise, but they paid no attention to me and continued their discussion.
“Do you think there could be someone trying to keep us from finding out who’s behind all these attacks? Maybe it’s erasing memories to keep it a secret?” Tristan asked.
“I think maybe the girl who found them unconscious by the steps could have something relevant to say – or perhaps even be responsible, somehow. Joey gave the girl’s ego a bit of a hit the first time they met,” Celeste said. “She could have some kind of grudge . . .”
“Oh, Joe told me about that. It’s a girl named Alicia, right? You think she can be behind all this?”
“I don’t know. She could be trying to retaliate. Maybe this is her way of getting back at Joey. Although it could be a coincidence that she found them outside . . . But don’t worry, Halloway. I will get to the bottom of this right away. I’m going back to the main house and I’ll talk to Alicia. If she’s hiding anything, I will find out. You have my word.”
“And what about Joey’s memory? There’s still a lot missing.”
“Well, my best guess is that it will gradually come back to her, as soon as she stops feeling threatened . . . If not, we can always try another memory-retrieving session later.”
“Oh, no, please, don’t,” I pleaded. “I can’t stand another round of this blasted headache.”
“Well, we can wait and see how it goes,” she said, patting me reassuringly on the back.
“Okay. Thank you so much, Celeste,” Tristan said, as he accompanied her to the front door of the cabin. “Please, keep us posted on anything new you discover, yeah?” Once she’d left, he turned to face the others. “I think it’s best if we let Joey rest now, guys. It’s still very early in the morning. Maybe some sleep will help get the rest of her memories back.”
“All right, let’s go, guys.” The blond named Seth stood up and urged his other friends to follow.
“Yeah, okay,” the boy with brown curly hair – Samuel, I think – agreed, standing up. “I have to check on the dog, anyway. I bet he’s been chewing on every piece of furniture in that cabin.”
“Oh, that’s right,” I mumbled. “Rocko.”
Everybody turned to stare at me.
“You don’t remember us, but you remember the dog’s name?” the curly-haired boy, Samuel, complained with a mighty pout.
“I’m so sorry! The name kinda popped into my head.” I gave him a weak smile.
“She’ll remember us all soon enough,” Tristan said. “This is actually good news, bits of information are gradually coming back to her already.”
“Yeah, and at least she doesn’t remember any of us. Can you imagine if she remembered everyone but you, Sammy?” Seth mused with a light chuckle.
“Do you think I hurt his feelings?” I asked Tristan, after the boys had left.
“He’ll be all right. Sammy was just goofing around, don’t worry about it,” he assured me with an honest smile. “Come on, let’s go get you some rest.” He extended his hand and I took it hesitantly. “You don’t need to look so scared. I’m not gonna bite.”
“I know that.” I tried to cover my blush while he led me through a door into the bedroom. The sheets were crumpled on the unmade bed, and there were clothes tossed everywhere. “So, is this my room?” I asked.
“Our room,” he corrected.
“Oh, y-you mean . . .” and I trailed off, my cheeks tinting red again.
“We are sharing the room, yes.” He smiled. “Married couples tend to do that, you know.”
“Are you serious . . . about us being married?” I gasped, feeling shellshocked. “That husband talk wasn’t just nonsense, then? I really have a husband . . . and it’s you? How can this be possible? I don’t remember that at all.”
“I’m afraid it’s true. I am really your husband, Joey,” he said, and when he noticed the enormity of my discomfort, he added, “I understand that you’re feeling uncomfortable with me sharing the room, so I’ll leave you alone to rest, okay?” His voice was calm and collected, but I still could sense a lingering tension, as if the notion of being cast out of his own room was not very pleasant for him.
“You’re mad that I’m making you leave. I’m sorry. It’s your room, too.”
He stopped and regarded me in silence for a moment before he spoke again. “I’m not mad, I’m just a little frustrated. But I know it’s only temporary. I can give you some space now, until you’re back to yourself again.”
I felt light-headed. How could I have managed to score this incredible guy for a husband? Had I won the jackpot, or what?
“Thanks. Y-you seem to be handling the situation well. I mean, your supposed wife has gone bonkers in the head and doesn’t remember you . . . I’d be flipping out like there’s no tomorrow, if I were in your position.”
His voice was warm and caring when he turned to me and answered, “I’m not worried. You remember my name; you know my face. The rest will come back to you soon. And even if your head doesn’t know me right now, Joey, I know your heart does,” he said, brushing a hand over my cheek. “When in doubt, trust your heart.”
“I do. I-I feel safe when I’m with you,” I confessed shyly.
I also felt loved. I trusted my heart, and right now it was telling me this strange man truly loved me. Even though my head couldn’t remember him, I still could remember the feelings he had for me. That piece of the puzzle was already there. Now I needed the rest of my memories to make the picture whole.
He dipped his head slowly, about to kiss me, but I reeled back, uncomfortable with the intimacy. I trusted him, but he still felt like a stranger to me, and the idea of kissing him – even though it was very alluring – was also still too sudden.
“I feel like you’re messing with me!” I laughed nervously, shifting back on the bed. “I mean, are you absolutely sure we really are married? I don’t have a ring . . .” I glanced down at my bare hands.
“Look at your necklace. Sometimes you take the ring off your finger because it gets in the way when you’re playing the guitar.”
“I-I play the guitar?”
“Yes, you do, Buttons.”
I widened my eyes as a memory lodged itself back into my head, clicking into place. “I remember that nickname!” I whispered in surprise. “Wha
t does it mean?”
He sat on the bed and took my hand, kissing the back of it in a gentlemanly manner. “It means you’re cute as a button. Which is very true.”
“Oh, that’s . . . erm, nice.”
It wasn’t “nice”, that was a lie. It was the most adorable friggin’ thing I’d ever heard in my whole life. He was so lovely!
“Do I have a nickname for you?”
His lips twitched at the corners and he turned his face away so as not to face me. “No.”
“You liar!” I exclaimed, seeing the proof flashing in his gray eyes.
“Well, I see your sight is working better than ever,” he muttered, standing up. “I’m not telling you my nickname, Buttons. You’ll have to remember that one by yourself,” he told me, with an amused smile.
“Aw, no fair!”
“Life isn’t fair, sweetheart. Now get some rest. I’ll be right outside. I’m leaving the door open in case you need me, okay?” Then he stepped out, leaving me alone in the bedroom.
I pulled at the silver chain around my neck to look at the silver-colored ring hanging there. A small diamond was set inside the ring, which made no sense. What was the point of putting a diamond on the inside of a ring so no one could see it? There was also a small inscription engraved in the metal:
T.J. Until the End & From the Start.
What a strange line, I thought to myself, frowning with the effort of trying to remember, but my head throbbed painfully in protest.
A crumpled letter came back to my memory. I was crying while I was reading it. Why? What had happened? I was so, so sad, as if I had just lost someone I loved. I couldn’t remember anything more about it.
“Darn it,” I huffed, frustrated, resting my head on the pillow and shutting my eyes.
I guessed I should try to rest for a while. And maybe when I woke up, this whole mess would be gone and my memories would be back again . . .
Chapter Fifteen
Best Friends For Ever
“DON’T BE AFRAID,” Tristan whispered close to me, his lips brushing against my ear. “Even if you cannot see me, I’ll always be right here, by your side. I feel like I’ve always been by your side, and I will always be. Does that make any sense?”
It sounded crazy, but I knew what he meant, because I felt the same way. Like I’d known him for as long as I could remember, beyond time, even.
“Can you feel this?” he whispered in the dark, and I sensed his lips touching mine, light as a feather, and then fireworks exploded loudly up in the night sky.
The deafening sound faded to muffled bangs, making me blink awake to find myself in a strange bed in a strange room.
The ghostly dream faded quickly, while the banging continued, and I realized someone was knocking on the door. I shuffled slowly out of the bedroom and took a curious peek outside. Tristan was already at the front door, talking to a guy with dark hair and a fringe colored blue at the ends.
“I’ve heard she wasn’t well, and I thought I should come by, see if everything was all right . . .” the guy was saying, but I couldn’t see his face because Tristan’s bulky form blocked almost all of the view.
“She’s resting now,” was Tristan’s clipped reply.
“Oh, I see. Well, when she wakes up, if you could please tell her I came over.”
“I’ll tell her.”
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Blue-Fringe Guy’s presence wasn’t welcomed by Tristan; his whole back was tense and stiff as they talked.
“O-okay . . .” Blue-Fringe Guy sounded completely intimidated.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Blaine?”
“Hmm, a-actually, yeah. There was something she asked me to find out . . .”
“Yes? What is it?”
“Well, erm, it’s kinda complicated, and I think she should really hear it from me, so . . . if you could let her know that we have things to talk about . . . By the way, the Gathering has been suspended until things have been clarified by the Harkers, so whenever she can meet me, I’ll be at my cabin.”
“Yes, I’ll let her know,” Tristan said. Then, suspiciously: “Did you come here alone? Aren’t you worried about new attacks?”
“I came with two friends. They’re over there, down by the trail. Not that they’d be of any help, anyway; last time there was trouble with the wolves, they bailed pretty fast and left me . . .”
“Well, at least you know how that feels.”
There was a ring of dead silence before the guy cleared his throat uncomfortably and excused himself.
“Who was it?” I asked, walking out of the bedroom.
Tristan turned round, slightly surprised to see me up and about. “Oh, hey. It was nothing important. How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling a lot better, thank you. My head isn’t killing me any more; that’s pretty great.”
“Good. That’s good. Has your memory sparked up again?”
“No, I’m sorry. It’s still the same: bits of things here and there, most of it not making make much sense. How long have I been sleeping?” I asked, yawning.
“It’s already noon. Do you wanna go over to the boys’ cabin and have some lunch? You haven’t eaten anything since last night.”
“Oh, yes, please, that’d be wonderful. Thank you so much.”
He gave me an odd look.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
“No . . . it’s just very weird seeing you act so polite. Even when we first met, you weren’t this reserved around me.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
He shook his head and smiled. “Stop apologizing all the time. It’s not really your fault, is it? Come on, let’s go grab us some grub.”
Lunch at the neighboring cabin with Tristan and his friends was pretty interesting. Seth Fletcher (Gray-Beanie Boy), Harry Ledger (Green-Eyed Boy), Josh Hart (Mohican Guy, who turned out to be not so intimidating after all) and Sammy Hunt (Curly-Haired Guy – the goofiest and funniest boy) were very loud and constantly bustling around the table, making jokes, talking about music and sometimes even tossing food at each other playfully. They were hectic and crazy and very weird. But in a good kind of way.
They also kept retelling old stories from their past in a subtle attempt to make me remember things.
After lunch they decided to get out some instruments and play me some songs, certain that the music would jog my memory.
“Who are ‘The Lost Boys’?” I had asked, seeing the name on the logo on every instrument around. They had all looked so incredibly sad and crestfallen at that question that I decided to keep any more to myself.
But as soon as they started playing their first song, the lyrics started coming back to me and I could suddenly remember images of shows and concerts that we’d played together. In the same way as the other memories had returned to me, these images were also random and disconnected from the rest. I still couldn’t remember the boys and who they were, even though I could remember playing with them.
I still couldn’t see the bigger picture, either, which was very frustrating. Why couldn’t I get all the pieces back in my head, already?
The boys seemed very happy with this small victory, though. I had remembered the songs and, to them, it was like hitting a home run. Tristan was the happiest of them all, the smile on his face wide and full of affection.
I was in awe at that smile. I wished he could keep smiling at me like that all the time, that he would never stop smiling, ever! I wanted Sam to keep telling jokes, just so I could hear Tristan’s laughter ringing in the room. It was like it had an invisible string linked directly to my heart, making it vibrate with happiness. I loved hearing his laugh; I loved seeing his smile. I never imagined I could fall for a guy so quickly like that, but here I was: falling as fast as a bullet.
After playing a lot of songs to me, the boys took a break and Tristan went to get some water from the kitchen. My eyes followed him with a deep longing – love-sick fool that I was.
>
“That is the darnest, cutest thing ever!” Harry’s laughter from beside me on the couch made me snap out of my reverie.
“What?” I asked awkwardly. “I wasn’t doing anything.”
“You, with your starry eyes gazing at Tristan! You’re non-stop swooning over him. It’s kinda funny seeing you flirt with your own husband like that.”
I looked around, alarmed, to see if anyone had overheard him, but the rest of the boys were goofing at each other in the background and weren’t paying attention to us.
“Shhh, Harry! People can hear you!”
“So? They don’t care if you’re carrying a torch for your hubby. Plus, you really think they haven’t noticed it?”
“No, they haven’t! And if you keep your mouth shut, no one else needs to know about it. So shut up! God, this is so embarrassing . . .” I buried my face in my hands to try to hide the massive blush creeping up my neck.
“What are you so embarrassed about, anyway?”
“You’re making me sound like I’m some sort of floozy, flirting with a guy I just met!”
“Just met? You’ve known him for almost four years! You do know that you guys are married, right? You are aware of that.”
“Yeah, but I don’t remember any of it. To me, we’ve just met,” I huffed, mortified. That only made him laugh even harder. You’ve heard the “roll on the floor laughing” expression? Well, he was rofling his ass off over there.
“Oh, boy. Talk about priceless . . .” he wheezed out between chuckles.
“What’s priceless?” Tristan asked, looking curiously at Harry, coming to sit down by his side, water bottle in hand.
“Halloway, you won’t believe wha—” Harry started saying, but I slapped a hand over his mouth just in time to stop him from blabbering.
“What is it? Why is her face like that?” Tristan asked, the curiosity rising in his silver eyes.
“It’s nothing! My face is fine!” I squeaked in utter embarrassment.
Harry wriggled out of my grasp. “She’s just trying to hide that she’s got the hots for you, is all!” He’d ratted me out, the utter bastard.