Chapter 3
Chapter Three
“E-bet?”
My dad stands at the bottom of the stairs where I left my luggage. Today is the day. I’ll fly to New York, meet up with Siler’s cousin, Mya, who will drive me to my dorm at Cornell University.
He’s staring anxiously at his phone. “We don’t want to be late to the airport.”
I’m unsteady on my feet after the ‘spell’ I had in my bathroom this morning. I told no one. Smacked my hip so hard that walking without favoring my right side is taking effort. In the last two days, I’ve had an increase in episodes.
If I expected to feel sad about leaving home, I’m numb as we drive to the airport. The only feeling that has taken hold is determination.
For the last month, I can only be sure people are keeping things from me. Important things.
When Siler wouldn’t give me the name of the guy from my memories, I asked my mom. Her response, “You’ve never shown any interest in dating. I’m not sure who you could mean,” made me put distance between Siler and me.
Scouring the yearbooks I found on my bookshelf, I didn’t find him. But I tell myself that doesn’t mean much. He could be from somewhere else.
I only know one thing. He’s real.
He has to be.
He feels more real than everything else in my life.
For months I’ve felt off balance. At times, a sense of disbelief has taken over my life. I wonder if part of my sudden illness has affected my brain so severely that my life feels unrecognizable.
The sudden surge of familiarity, emotion… of longing tells me he’s real. I’ve desperately wanted to find myself near him again.
Why doesn’t that memory of the swing and the mystery man fade away?
It only sharpens.
Each time I revisit it in my mind, I not only hear the sprinkler, but I also feel the teasing spray of droplets from it on my calf. I hear the radio playing With or Without You by U2, and I smell the fresh-cut grass.
No one can convince me this didn’t happen.
Or that my mind made it up.
Goodbyes are swift once we arrive at the airport. Dad slips cash, along with an emergency credit card, in my sweatshirt pocket. Mom double-checks that my medical alert bracelet is on. Like I won’t make my flight to New York without catastrophe striking.
I mean… fair enough.
My large suitcase and carry-on are cumbersome, especially since I’m feeling wobbly. I refuse to show it. Straightening and pasting a smile on my face, I tell my parents I’ll call when the flight lands.
Then I tug the luggage behind me, scanning the lines inside the sliding doors. A gasp escapes me when I see Siler leaning against the information desk, a gift bag in his hand.
My bravado drains as he lopes my way. I’ll miss him. I have missed him this past month. But I can’t let go of my misgivings.
He doesn’t hesitate, enveloping me in a big hug. “Ah, Biz,” he says, his voice hoarse with tears, “are you sure about this?”
How can I be sure about anything? Even his intentions.
“It makes sense.” It’s a pathetic explanation.
Clearly nothing has made much sense for a while, but being close to the doctor treating me is a step in the right direction. I wish I could muster up excitement over Cornell. Even if I can’t remember wanting to be there, it’s an accomplishment to be proud of.
Maybe being there will rouse that spirit.
Siler hands the gift bag to me. “Don’t read the letter now. Wait until you’re on the plane, okay?”
Nestled inside the bright yellow bag, beneath a couple of sheets of tissue paper, is a white jewelry box.
“You didn’t need to buy me anything.” I peek up at him and see him chewing his lip, his face tense.
“But I appreciate it,” I tell him as I search his face for signs that he understands we’re still friends. I know he lied to me, but I’ve always been able to recognize that he cares. I can overlook it… for now.
Inside the box is a gold bracelet with a delicate, unique-looking figure eight chain and an infinity symbol set with a green stone in the center. It’s breathtaking but jarring.
A strong impulse rises inside me to cram it back into the bag and throw it as far from me as I can.
A full-body shiver leaves me stunned.
“Do you want help putting it on?” Siler takes the chain from my hands. When I look down, they’re shaking.
An unsettling sense of doom grabs hold of me.
Why in the hell is this gift of his bracelet freaking me out?
Is this just my mind throwing another weird curveball my way?I’m still searching for words as Siler tenderly takes my hand, effortlessly fastening the clasp of the bracelet around my left wrist. “It looks like it belongs there. Do you like it?”
Numbly nodding at him, I lift my wrist to look closer at the bracelet. “Siler… it’s amazing… it...” I stop myself from telling him it looks too expensive because it would sound unappreciative. “It’s a new good luck charm.”
Feels like anything but…
He laughs at me. “Only if you plan to lose it in a week. If you’re still keeping track, that would be the fifty -third lost lucky item since I’ve known you. Maybe keeping it on and never taking it off will help.”
Not a chance.
Swallowing down the lump in my throat, I put the box back in the bag. “Thank you, Siler… for everything, not just the gift. You’ve been so patient with me since I became sick. You even hooked me up with your cousin so I won’t feel alone in New York.”
His hand caresses my wrist, lightly fingering the chain of my new bracelet, interrupting my thoughts. Shaking my head, I focus on the floor at my feet.
“You’re important to me. I just want you to know that.”
He crushes me to his chest. I feel him take a big breath. “Biz, this isn’t a forever goodbye. Right? My first game is in New York. You'll be there. Then we can make holiday plans. I’m going to blow your phone up every day. It’s… we’re still best friends.”
I lean back to look up at him, wiping tears from my cheeks.
“Besides, you’ll need to remember how much you love me after spending some time with Mya. She can be an acquired taste.”
He grimaces while I laugh lightly. That’s not the first mention he’s made about her attitude.
But she’s willing to take me on. She can’t be too terrible. Right?
My stomach dips as the plane takes off. Watching out the window at the patchwork quilt of land before the clouds take over, I marvel at the fact that my mind doesn’t remember flying the half dozen other times that I have, according to my parents.
Remembering the letter Siler put inside the gift bag, I pull it out of my backpack resting under the seat in front of me.
On the front of the card is a cartoon drawing of the two of us. He's holding a basketball, and I have a paintbrush. Affixed to the blank yellow card front, I run my finger over the E. Ahrens signed at the bottom.
I don’t remember drawing it. The realization makes me stifle a sob.
A squeezing sensation at the sight of it makes my breath catch.
It’s been months since I drew or painted anything.
Several times I’ve stared at my art supplies piled in the corner next to the easel with a rough sketch of a building at Cornell.
No desire to touch it.
His words inside the note make my tears escape:
Do me a favor, Biz - Remember you’re more than what’s happened to you. You are the smartest person I know. You're talented, effortlessly funny, compassionate, and strong.
Nothing would ever be the same without you. Keep up the fight to get your life back. I’ll help in any way I can.
Trust Mya.
She’s going to piss you off - she’s good like that - but she knows what she’s talking about.
Most importantly, don’t let strange memories guide you into dangerous situations. Talk to me if you want reminders about the past. I’ll always be available to you. I promise.
Love always,
Siler
My mind mulls over the last words of his note during the turbulent flight. One hand rests on the plastic cup of water as the tray table bounces, and I lean my head against the shuttered window. Why does he think I’ll be led into a dangerous situation?
Did he mean it when he said, “I’m strong”? Those last lines contradict it.
I do my best to shake away the apprehension building by listening to the conversations around me.
One in particular keeps me riveted, “...what does that mean? He’s already chewed my ass about it…
” the guy’s voice lowers. I try to peer back nonchalantly, but the person behind me is up, moving to the aisle for the bathroom.
“It means that prick is going to expect you to drop everything.” Both the guys are drawing attention from the seats around them, causing their voices to drop again. I contemplate getting up to stretch just to have a look, but stop when that faint feeling I dread starts up.
Not right now, please, God. Not now.
The woman next to me is engrossed in a movie with her headphones on, but when I shift in my seat to lean forward, she says, “Feeling sick?” She hands me the barf bag tucked behind the seat in front of me. “It’s no wonder. It's been a bumpy ride.”
I manage a faint smile her way as I accept the bag. I’m not about to explain the situation to a complete stranger. Bumpy ride indeed. Yeah, I’m not going to throw up, just have a neurological meltdown for a few minutes.
With some luck, I make it to touch down at Ithaca Tompkins International Airport without embarrassing myself or causing a scene.
Amid the bustle of people jockeying to stand and get down the aisle, I miss seeing the guys who grabbed my attention with their debate earlier.
While holding back from the line of people ready to charge off the plane, I take the gifted bracelet off.
Carefully, I put it back in the box, then place it inside the gift bag.
A degree of relief comes with tucking the gift bag back into the pocket of my backpack.
Maybe I should feel bad that his gift is causing me distress. Maybe it’s not the bracelet. Maybe it’s the way my relationship has been with Siler lately.
Disjointed. Disappointing.
Knowing he lied about the guy from my memory makes me doubt the other memories he’s told me about.
It’s not a long walk to baggage claim, but my legs feel shaky, so I seek a seat to gather my bearings. I’m stepping towards an open one when I’m knocked off balance by a tall figure zipping past.
“Shit, sorry…” He turns, grabbing my forearm to steady me. I put a hand out to brace myself on the wall next to me. He calls out to someone several steps ahead of him, “Be right there.”
Distracted as I set my bag on the seat, keeping my hand pressed against the wall, I don’t look at him until I’m safely seated.
When I do, I immediately drop my gaze back to the floor.
My face heats up. He’s adorable… dare I say a genuine heartthrob.
By the sound of his voice, he was part of the loud discussion on the plane.
My cheeks blush red as I look back up at him. “Thanks for the quick reaction time.”
Instead of a hasty exchange, I’m surprised when he takes the open seat next to mine, slumping forward with a sigh. “Sorry… it’s been a rotten day.”
I don’t do this. I’m not skilled at giving platitudes to people. “Oh? That’s… yeah, not great…” My face feels like it’s on fire after my mumbled response.
He pulls his phone out, typing a text to someone before pocketing it. “I don’t even know why I’m in such a rush to get outside. I’m cooked.” He shakes his head, leaning back in his seat with his head falling back.
“You’re a girl.” Jesus, thanks for noticing? “How angry would you be if the guy you’re seeing forgot to get you a birthday present?”
I watch my two suitcases go around the carousel for the third time while I stay frozen in the seat beside him. “I’d be hurt.” That should go without saying, right?
But an idea blares in my mind…
“This is going to seem weird, but I might be able to help. Does she like jewelry?”
“Obsessed, but the airport gift shop doesn’t have much in the way of shiny trinkets, and she’s outside waiting for me.”
Pulling the yellow giftbag containing the figure-eight bracelet from Siler out of the pocket of my backpack, I answer back, “Like I said… this will seem weird, but I was given this earlier today. It’s… not a good fit. It’s yours if you want it. For your girlfriend.”
A part of me feels terrible that I’m giving away the present Siler gave me, but it instantly gave me the creeps. He doesn’t need to know. Eventually I’ll tell him I lost it, like he joked I might.
With a raised eyebrow, he wipes his hand across his mouth before saying in a stunned voice, “It doesn’t sound… not weird. I can’t take that without giving you some money for it.”
Refusing the cash he tries to give me after he admires the bracelet, I finally stand to grab my bags. “I can’t take any money for it. Seriously… it’s yours.”
Where’s Mya at?
Our flight was on time, but I still don’t see anyone resembling the picture Siler showed me. This whole interaction with boy wonder is getting more awkward.
He offers his hand to shake, which I do, before he says, “I’m Rett, by the way… short for Everett. Are you in Ithaca for school?”
I glance over at my abandoned luggage taking another spin on the carousel. Turning back, I shove my hands in my jean pockets. “I’m Bizzy… short for Elizabeth, and I’m starting at Cornell in a couple of weeks.”
His mouth drops open before the hand not holding the bag slaps over it. “Uh… that’s… wild.” He says slowly.
I’m stopped from asking what he means when his friend from the plane walks toward us, irritation rife in his voice. “Stop fucking around. Let's go.”
He waves as he follows behind him towards the exit door. Holding up the bag, he mouths, “Thank you.”
My eyes don’t leave them until they’re beyond the glass doors. Rett looks back at me a few more times. Stopping on the other side of the exit, he points at me, and the other guy’s head jerks my way, his expression confused.
Yeah, I get it. Giving away a beautiful gift to some stranger bypasses weird, but I can’t explain the ugly feeling that crept through me when I received it.
It’s not until I’m pulling my luggage off the baggage conveyor that I notice I’m feeling… good. The weakness and faint feeling from earlier is gone. My mind doesn’t feel scrambled or confused.
I’ll take it as a sign that my decision was the right one.
New York may be my answer.