Inhaling Eradicants

Clyde lay in a deep sleep, still exhausted from last night. She was having a wonderful dream about sexy California surfers, when her asshole of a friend barged in her room. He pulled back the curtains, disrupting her dream filled sleep. She groaned, frustrated with the morning light streaming in through the windows.

“Really Trey? Really?” she questioned sarcastically, secretly plotting the different ways she could execute her friend.

She turned over, pulling the covers above her head. There was no way in hell, she was going to get up before the sun was directly overhead.

She moaned at the pounding in her head that had suddenly become apparent. A migraine was starting to take refuge in her brain. She momentarily forgot about the migraine when she felt her stomach lurch. Two sure signs of a hangover.

“Come on sleeping beauty, wake the fuck up!” Trey commanded, staring at the lump underneath the blanket that was his friend.

She curled tighter, the sound of her whiny voice muffled from the blanket. “No! Go away and leave me alone!”

Trey glowered at the bedspread and grabbed the edges, ripping the covers off. Clyde shrieked at the harsh light intruding on her and buried her face in her arms.

“Trey, you fatherfucker, I’m going to fucking kill you!” she shouted, threatening her friend’s life.

Trey grinned at his harmless friend, knowing full well that she would never hurt someone physically. He moved to kneel on the floor in front of her.

“Clyde, wake up,” he pleaded.

She sighed helplessly. She moved her arm to the side and peeked one eye open to look at her friend.

“No man, I’ve got a major hangover and I’m not in the mood to do anything.”

She watched as a small smile spread across his face. He reached into his sweater pouch and pulled out a medium sized, white thing resembling a cigarette. He held it between his thumb and index finger, casually on display to tempt her.

“Well then, I guess I’m just going to have to finish this all by myself,” he taunted.

She watched as he stuck one end of the joint in his mouth and held a lighter to the other end. He inhaled deeply while striking the light at the same time. He inhaled a second time, sucking the smoke into his lungs. He opened his mouth, letting the smoke escape and French inhaling it then blowing the smoke out.

“You sure you don’t want any of this og kush? It’ll help with the hangover,” Trey stated, holding the blunt out to her.

Her hand shot out with such blinding speed that Trey hadn’t realized he no longer held the joint. He smirked at how easily she’d given in to his tempting. She stuck the filter end in her mouth, inhaling deeply, then inhaling once more to breathe the toxins in. She puffed out smoke rings, sucking the last one back in before exhaling. She passed the doobie back to Trey, who happily accepted.

“You sneaky ass ninja. You just came in here knowing I didn’t want to get up, but you said og kush, so I had to get up! You just wanted to wake and bake,” she accused, grinning at her clever friend.

“You can’t deny that you’re happy I woke you up though,” he spoke while exhaling.

She took the blunt, pressing it between her lips and inhaled. She breathed the THC into her lungs and let her mouth slack, the smoke pouring out like a waterfall. Trey snatched the doobie out of her hands, taking his hit.

The throbbing had slightly decreased to a more tolerant level, but the queasiness still disturbed her stomach. She stood up from the bed, leaving to find some Tylenol, but before she could even make it out of her room she felt her stomach heave.

She latched her hand over her mouth, running straight for the bathroom. She pushed the toilet lid up and her stomach squeezed out her insides. She spit into the dirty, vomit water, trying to get rid of the acidic taste that burned her throat. She rested her head on the cold porcelain and let her eyes slide shut. She breathed deeply through her mouth so she wouldn’t have to smell the putrid stomach acid. She unnoticeably drifted off to sleep, unable to stop the darkness from shrouding her. The last thing she heard was a distinct beeping noise that could only be from a telephone.

-

There was this wretched beeping that just wouldn’t stop. Clyde tried her best to ignore it, but it was just about the most annoying noise ever. She squeezed her eyes tight, her migraine was getting even worse, especially with the damn beeping. She lifted her hands up to her ears, covering them to block out the sound. Still able to hear the beep, she groaned irritated.

She opened her eyes, curious as to why she wasn’t in her room. She looked around, noting the bland white and linoleum floor. She frowned at the sight of an IV needle jabbed in the bend of her elbow. She quickly pulled it out along with other wires that clung to her exposed skin.

She sat up in the hospital bed, spotting her clothes on a chair against the wall. She rushed over to her clothes, stripping herself of the hideous gown and replacing it with her clothing. She turned around, shrugging her arms into her sweater.

The door started to open and she panicked thinking it was the doctor. She froze up, uncertain whether to hide or if it would simply prove pointless. The room was so bare. There was scarcely any place to hide. Even hiding under the bed was a horrible spot.

Clyde stood there, out in the open, as she contemplated what to do. She still hadn’t made up her mind when the door swung open all the way, revealing a man. He was no ordinary man. He was a casually dressed man, which meant that he was not a doctor. She sighed in relief as she stared at the man. Maybe he was lost.

“So you’re finally awake. Up and out of bed too, I see,” the man stated, not moving from the doorway.

Clyde was confused. She had no idea why this stranger was talking to her.

“Do you know what happened?” the stranger asked her.

She shook her head no. She didn’t have a clue as to why she was in the hospital. She recalled her morning smoke session with Trey, but couldn’t put anything together after that.

The stranger stared at her through blank eyes. “The doctor said you blacked out from alcohol poisoning.”

The image of her spilling her guts into the toilet flashed back into her mind.

“They called me because you still have me on your emergency contact list. And I wanted to make sure you were okay,” he tacked on the last part as if it was an afterthought.

Clyde stared at the man, processing what he just said. What did he mean he was on her emergency contact list? She didn’t even know the guy. She focused on the man, trying to put his face with a name, but she couldn’t remember him for the life of her.

“Who are you?” she asked, unaware that she might offend him by asking such a question.

The guy looked at her as if she was joking, which morphed into a look of disbelief. “You’re serious? You don’t remember me?”

Clyde shook her head. “Nope.”

The mystery man looked horrified. “That’s not possible. Maybe you’ve lost some of your memory because of the blackout.”

Clyde didn’t know what to tell him. She felt kind of sorry for the guy. She walked past him, leaving the room. She made it into the elevator before she noticed the man was following her.

“Why are you following me?”

“Because I’m going to be taking care of you since you had that blackout,” the man replied.

She immediately began to panic. Unpleasant thoughts running through her head. She forced herself to remain aloof, if only on the outside. She waited until the elevator door slid open, then took off, running away from the man.

She ran out of the hospital, running towards what she recognized as Trey’s car. She glanced back and in that instant wished she hadn’t. The guy was chasing after her and he looked as if he was gaining on her. Clyde pushed herself harder, not wanting to be caught.

She spotted Trey leaning against the driver’s side door and yelled to get his attention. “Trey!”

He turned around to see her dashing towards the car with some random guy sprinting after her. Trey strode over, meeting Clyde halfway.

“Get in the car,” he ordered.

Clyde obeyed without question. She went to go sit in the car, but stopped when she heard a sickening crack. She spun around to see Trey on top of the stranger repeatedly beating his face.

The boy smiled at me. His expression a cute grin. I couldn’t help, but smile back. It was involuntary.

“So what’s your name?” he asked me, looking more interested than most other people would be.

I smiled at him and answered, “Clyde ZeeZee Aurelio.”

He grinned even wider. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Clyde. My name’s Oliver.”

Clyde gasped, shocked at what just happened. She turned back to see Trey still beating up the guy. She ran over to Trey, grabbing his shirt, trying to pull him off Oliver.

“Trey, stop!” she shouted, practically begging.

Her friend stopped his hand a few inches away from another punch to the guy’s face. Trey was staring at her, confused.

“I-I think I know him,” she stuttered, still dazed by what had happened.

Trey climbed off the guy, standing by Clyde. He refused to trust the guy until he knew for sure that Clyde trusted him.

Clyde kneeled down next to the bloodied up man. She grimaced because it was her fault that Trey started a fight with the guy.

“Uhm, Oliver?” she asked hopefully.

“So you do remember me,” he said with a smile, regardless of the fact that he’d just been beaten up.

She frowned, shaking her head. “No, I don’t remember you.”

“Then how did you know my name?” he asked her, looking sorely perplexed.

“I’m not quite sure,” she replied honestly.

She stood up, turning around to see Trey waiting in his car. She shot one last glance at Oliver and got in the passenger’s side of the car. She heard the backdoor being opened and shifted in her seat to see Oliver crawling into the backseat.

“What are you doing?” Clyde asked, a look of question evident on her face.

Trey turned to see what the commotion was, he yelled, “What the fuck are you doing in my car?”

Oliver grinned at the two in the front seats. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m following you guys.”

Trey glowered, but faced forward, starting up the car and pulling out of the parking lot. Clyde scowled, watching Oliver clean his face up.

She dug in the glove compartment for a napkin and held it out to Oliver. “Here.”

He looked up at her, then down at the napkin she held in her hand. He took it obligingly with a nod. She turned back around to sit correctly in her chair. She noticed that Trey was driving in the direction of their favorite, little Chinese restaurant.

“Where are we going?” she inquired suspiciously.

“To eat,” he replied innocently.

Clyde cringed at the thought of food. She wouldn’t be able to eat with the memory of this morning lurking in the back of her mind.

“I don’t have much of an appetite at the moment,” she stated.

Trey smirked at his weak stomached friend. He lifted the doobie he had been smoking earlier from the ashtray, holding it up to her gaze.

“Here. This will give you your appetite back.”

Clyde accepted his offer, snatching the blunt out of his grasp and placing it between her lips. She dragged the smoke, expertly reviving the damp cherry to life. She extended her arm to the back, offering Oliver a puff. He plucked the joint from her fingers, unable to pass up a good smoke opportunity.

“Thanks Trey, old buddy, old pal. This is exactly what I needed,” she spoke, allowing the smoke to fall freely from her mouth.

“Of course, anything for you, Clyde!” Trey exclaimed, while reaching back with a hand to take the stick from Oliver.

Clyde shifted around, facing Oliver. She watched as he continuously French inhaled the smoke, cycling it in a repetitive circle, until the smoke vanished altogether. Oliver smirked at her, a cocky expression overtaking his face.

“So you’re a regular then, yeah?” she questioned, a grin spreading across her features.

Oliver laughed, “Of course I am! I ain’t no chump.”

I watched as the ball rolled, knocking down all ten pins with full force. I smiled, spinning around to face my opponent.

“So you’re a regular then, yeah?” he asked me, an adorable grin on his face.

“Of course I am! I ain’t no chump,” I declared, trying my best to look as convincing as I sounded.

“Well, we’ll just see about that,” Oliver incited.

He stepped forward, picking up his bowling ball. I said a silent prayer, begging the almighty Bowling God that I would bowl my absolute best tonight. I watched as the ball rolled down the lane, striking all ten pins to the ground.

Oliver turned around to face me with a smug look on his face. “Beat that, chump.”

“We’re here!” Trey sang out.

Clyde looked out the front window to see that they were parked in front of the restaurant.

“Hey chump, you okay?”

She spun around in the chair to look at Oliver. Did he just call her chump?

“Uh, yeah,” she mumbled, forcing herself back down to reality. “It’s nothing.”

He nodded and climbed out of the car, following Trey. Clyde got out of the car trailing silently behind the two. The trio entered the diner and sat themselves at a booth.

“I’m going to run to the bathroom real quick,” Clyde excused herself.

She entered the empty bathroom, heading to the sinks. She peered at herself in the mirror, searching her face. Her cheeks were pallid with signs of her morning illness.

She twisted the knob, turning the water on. Bending down, she cupped her hands to fill them with a pool of water. She brought her hands to her face, splashing the cool liquid to her pale cheeks. She lifted herself, turning off the sink and pulling some paper towels from the dispenser.

While drying off her face, she noticed the color in her eyes. She stooped forward, her nose just barely skimming the glass, as she examined the redness of her eyes. Grimacing, she turned around, headed for the door.

I scowled at the blurred images of outside as we zipped by. The Bowling God didn’t make good on my prayer. If anything, I think he might of cursed me with the worst luck of bowling I’ve ever had because he would find it amusing. Whatever the reason, I had lost the bowling match with Oliver. My face scrunched up further when I peeked at Oliver out of the corner of my eye. He sat confidently with an arrogant smirk on his lips. I twisted in the passenger’s seat to face him.

“You knew all along didn’t you,” I stated more than asked.

He shot me a bewildered look, trying to appear innocent. “Knew what?”

“That I suck at bowling,” I replied matter-of-factly.

I watched as a small smile broke out across his face, becoming a tooth bearing grin.

“Yeah, I knew,” he admitted.

My eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “Then why did you start the challenge?”

“I didn’t initiate the challenge. You did,” he stated with a smirk, then tacked on, “Chump.”

Clyde stopped with her hand resting on the door. She shook her head, hoping it would clear her mind. She had no idea what was going on with her. She reasoned with herself that she was imagining these things because of the blackout she’d had earlier. Or possibly because she was high. The fact that she had somehow come up with Oliver’s name bothered her. She shoved the thought away, enclosing it behind the darkest parts of her mind.

She pushed the door open, exiting the ladies’ room. She spotted the booth where she saw Oliver and Trey laughing together, all buddy buddy. She approached them and slid into the seat next to Trey, ignoring the space Oliver had just made available to her.

“We got coffee.” Trey informed her, motioning to the mug and coffee pitcher.

Needing to do something with her hands, she reached for the pitcher and coffee mug. She poured the dark liquid into the cup, steam gently floating from the surface. She ripped two sugar packets open and spilled the sweet crystals into the cup, stirring with a spoon to blend the coffee.

She tenderly grasped the warm mug in her hands lifting it to her lips, gingerly sipping the brown liquid. Setting the cup down, she looked up to see a waitress making her way towards them.

The waitress smiled politely as she greeted them, “Afternoon. What can I get for you today?”

Trey raised a hand to gain her attention and spoke, “Kung Pao Chicken for me please.”

The lady wrote it down in her little pad, then looked up at Oliver and Clyde.

Oliver nodded his head, ordering, “I’ll get the chow mein noodles with tofu.”

I gazed at the guy sitting across the table from me.

“Chow mein noodles with tofu?” I asked him, hearing the disbelief in my voice.

He looked away from the waiter to me with a puzzled expression. “Uh, yeah. Is there something wrong with that?”

I blinked a couple times before shaking my head. “No, I eat the same thing.”

Oliver smiled over at me. “Really?”

I smiled, nodding my head. He laughed, just as amused as I was.

He turned back to the waiter. “I guess we’ll make that two.”

“And you, dear?” the waitress asked Clyde.

Clyde looked up at the waitress incoherently. “I’m sorry. What?”

“What would you like to order?” the waitress waited patiently.

“Oh, um-”

“Can you make that two?” Oliver asked, interrupting Clyde.

The waitress jotted it down and walked away to the kitchen.

Trey glanced back and forth between the two. “That’s a bit freaky. You guys eat the same thing. And how did you know that’s what she orders?”

Oliver simply shrugged, a smile adorning his face. Clyde was trying her best to keep it together. She had no idea what was happening. Her imagination was starting to get a little too wild for her taste. She didn’t want to address the fact that maybe she wasn’t imagining these things. She didn’t know, but she had a gut feeling that she wouldn’t like finding out who exactly this Oliver was.

“Uh, guys, I’m going to get some air,” she excused herself from the booth, heading out the door.

Clyde walked along the sidewalk, busying her mind with the bustle of the streets. Hopelessly, she tried to distract her thoughts, recoiling like the coward she is. Never one to confront her fears or problems.

She passed a stand and backtracked, staring at one of the magazines on display.

“Hello. Can I help you?” the man handling the stand asked.

Clyde shook her head, her attention focused on the magazine. “Can I look at this for a second?”

The guy nodded his head and she picked up the magazine. Her mind reeling, she gazed at the man on the cover. The front man of the popular British band, Bring Me The Horizon.

I glared at him through the tears. I couldn’t believe he was doing this. He, of all people, was leaving me. He stepped forward, reaching out to wrap his arms around me.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” I ground out through my teeth.

He paused, frowning at me.

“Clyde, please, don’t do this,” he pleaded.

My face twisted in pain as I scowled at him. “I’m not the one who’s leaving.”

He flinched, my retort piercing straight through him. “I don’t have a choice. I have to go, Clyde. This is the band’s first worldwide tour.”

I frowned, a sense of insignificance overwhelming me.

“Then just go, Oliver,” I mumbled, turning away.

I heard the quiet sound of the door being shut as he left. Walking out of my place and out of my life. I let my emotions overpower my body now that he was gone. I crumbled to the floor, my sobs racking my frame. My body curled in on itself, forming into the fetal position.

I remained on the floor for quite some time. The tears flowing relentlessly, as if from a perpetual well. The memories of our time spent together circling me, invading me. It pained me to have these once cherished memories, now haunting me.

I believed him when he told me he loved me and would never leave me. I believed he was different from the others. Different from my parents. I was wrong to believe.

Clyde chucked the magazine at the stand, nearly hitting the man handling the booth. The man ducked just in time and lifted his head shouting at Clyde.

“Hey lady, what the hell is your problem?” he yelled furiously, but Clyde was already sprinting in the other direction.

She ran down the sidewalk, past all the people crowding the street. Some of them stared after her, wondering what the rush was about. Ignoring them, she made it back to the diner and burst in, marching to the booth where her friend and he sat. Several eyes were on her, gawking openly, but she didn’t notice.

“I want to go,” she huffed angrily.

Trey looked around the restaurant, noticing all the shameless eyes that observed his friend. He focused back on his friend and held a hand out, motioning her to sit down.

“Come on, Clyde, sit down. The food will be here any minute,” he coaxed, not wanting a scene to unfold.

She glared, fuming with pure outrage.

“I. Want. To. Go.” every word emphasized with her lividity.

Trey frowned, but stood from the booth. Oliver started to get up, but Clyde’s scowl made him stay put. She didn’t say anything as she stormed out to the car with Trey tailing her. She jumped in the passenger’s side, banging the door shut with such force that Trey feared for his automobile. He glanced to the front door of the restaurant, giving Oliver a shrug before getting in his car. Oliver blew out a defeated sigh as he watched them drive away.

Trey knew better than most that the quiet façade Clyde put on was nothing more than a pretense. Remaining silent while he drove, he patiently waited for his friend to speak. Clyde huffed an exasperated sigh, crossing her arms over her chest and slumping low in her seat. She didn’t need any persuasion to start ranting.

“I can’t believe him!” she shouted, finally breaking the silence.

“Believe who?” Trey question, knowing full well who she meant.

“Oliver! How dare he show up after all this time!” she exclaimed, looking mildly offended and some other emotion that Trey couldn’t read.

Trey sighed and tried to reason with her. “Clyde, I don’t know what the history between you and Oliver is, but I do know that a guy doesn’t come back willingly, unless the reason he did was important.”

The rest of the drive was silent. Clyde pondered what Trey had said. Playing the words repetitiously in her head, like a broken record. The truth in Trey’s words prodded at her. She didn’t voice any of the thoughts racing through her brain. She kept quiet, keeping her emotions to herself.

They parked in the driveway of their little home. Neither of the two said a word to the other as they entered their house. Trey stalked off, leaving to his room. Clyde did the same and headed to hers.

Upon entering her room, she idly shed herself of her clothing, littering the floor with the articles as she made her way to her dresser. She pulled one of the silver knobs to open the mahogany drawer. After grabbing one of her loose, sleeping shirts and a pair of shorts, she slid the drawer shut. She slipped into her bedtime clothes and made her way to her bed. She threw herself on the queen sized mattress, swiftly delving under the covers for warmth.

Only until she had made herself comfortable, did her thoughts begin to intrude once again. She squeezed her eyes shut and buried herself further underneath the security of the duvet, trying to push the baffling thoughts away from her already muddled mind. Eventually, she fell into a restless sleep with Trey’s words still lingering in her head.

“It’s real easy,” the guy I’d just met stated.

I didn‘t even know his name. I watched as he pulled the contraption closer to him. He looked at me and smiled.

“Watch, I’ll show you,” he placed his mouth on the top, demonstrating.

I gazed eagerly at this new sort of knowledge I’d never known existed. The guy blew out a thick, cloud of smoke and turned to me, his smile somewhat lazy. He pushed the thing towards me and nodded his head, signaling me to take a turn. I stared at him, then glanced at the thing. I was clueless, to say the least. I’d never done this sort of thing before. I didn’t even know what it was called. The guy chuckled at my baffled expression.

“Place your lips on the opening in the top,” he directed me, pointing to the hole.

I placed my lips over it, then looked back at him, waiting for more instruction.

“Inhale deeply,” he stated.

I breathed in then took my mouth off the top and tried to hold my breath while I waited.

“Breathe in one more time. Then exhale.”

I breathed in, then exhaled, amazed at the smoke that pooled from my lips.

“Wow,” I mumbled.

The guy smiled. “You’ve never smoked before, have you?”

I shook my head no. The guy nodded and pulled the contraption back towards him.

“Yeah, it’s kind of obvious,” he admitted, then took a turn on the thing.

“What is that thing?” I asked, curious to learn more.

“It’s called a bong,” he answered, letting the smoke fall from his mouth as he spoke.

He pushed the bong to me and I accepted it, taking my turn. When I breathed the smoke into my lungs it burned causing me to cough. I coughed, the smoke escaping and my throat stinging.

“That was a good hit,” the guy said approvingly.

I looked up at him questioningly. My eyes were slowly beginning to water.

“What do you mean? My throat hurts,” I choked out hoarsely.

He laughed as if it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. For some reason, a smile formed on my lips and I joined in laughing at myself as well. It was the first time I had been able to laugh this hard in a long time. Not since Oliver left. I paused, waiting for the pain to seize me, but nothing happened. I continued laughing as if Oliver was nothing more than an afterthought.

“Who are you?” I asked, hoping to put a name together with his face.

“I’m Trey. What about you, lovely?” he inquired.

“Clyde.”

Trey smiled at me. “Well, Clyde, I have a feeling you and I are going to be good friends.”

I smiled as I reveled in this new feeling. This drug was the answer to all my problems. I hadn’t even given a single thought to Oliver during this whole experience. I relished the thought of forgetting about him. Forgetting was the solution to my problems. And smoking marijuana was my key to forgetting.

Clyde awoke with a start. Glancing around her, she realized she was in her bedroom and that she had only been dreaming. Thinking back to the dream, she knew that it wasn’t just a dream. It was a memory. She didn’t like that the memories she had tried so hard to forget were suddenly returning to her.

Frowning, she swung her legs to the side of the bed and stood. She reached her arms high above her head, stretching her back and muscles. She left her room and walked out to the kitchen.

Trey was sitting at the kitchen island sipping from a coffee cup. She grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured herself some coffee, mixing in flavored creamer. She sat beside Trey at the island and leaned her head on his shoulder. He sighed, placing his cup down and wrapped an arm around her, petting her head comfortingly.

“What is it, dear?” he questioned, sensing something bothering his friend.

“Why did you start smoking?” she asked, glad to have a gay best friend to confide in.

“Uh, I don’t think I really had a reason. I think I just tried it and liked it so much that I decided to do it regularly,” Trey replied, slightly confused by her question.

“I had a reason,” Clyde mumbled, “and he waltzed right back into my life.”

Trey’s eyebrows furrowed together, then separated apart as comprehension dawned on him.

“Oliver,” he stated.

Clyde nodded her head.

“I loved him you know. I still do actually,” she whispered, mostly admitting it to herself.

Trey squeezed her arm and kissed the top of her head. “I’m sorry, love.”

The doorbell rang throughout the house. Trey released Clyde and went to see who was at the door. She sipped at her coffee while she waited for her friend to return. Voices from the front of the house drifted into the kitchen.

“What are you doing here?” Trey shouted.

“I need to talk to her,” Oliver replied urgently.

I stared at him, but I couldn’t grasp the fact that he was here. I assumed that he was a mirage, conjured up by the high I was currently experiencing. I didn’t want to see him so I had no idea why I was imagining him here.

“Clyde, are you listening to what I’m saying?” he asked me, pulling me from my thoughts.

I focused on him, realizing that I wasn’t imagining him. He was real and he was here. He had returned from tour and he was here standing in front of me. I scowled at him, my high ebbing from the realization.

“Why are you here?” I asked through gritted teeth.

He sighed and looked at me with a sad expression. “I’m back, Clyde. I’m here because I miss you. There wasn’t a day that passed by that I didn’t think about you. You’ve got to know that I didn’t want to go. I would never leave you willingly. I meant what I said. Clyde, I love you.”

“Clyde! Clyde, where are you?” he yelled, calling for her.

“Oliver!” she shouted before she thought about what she was doing.

She looked up to see him standing in the middle of the entryway to the kitchen. She hopped off the chair and rushed over to him. He opened his arms, embracing her against him.

“You came back,” she mumbled against his chest.

“Of course I came back. I told you I would never leave you,” he replied, squeezing her tighter.

She pulled back slightly to look up at him. “No, I meant before. You came back after your tour to apologize. I forgot about that. I forgot everything. I forced myself to forget everything about you, about you and me. That’s why I smoke marijuana. I wanted to erase my memories of the past, our past. And it had worked until you returned once again. You brought back all the memories I had tried so hard to block out. I remember everything.”

Oliver smiled down at the love of his life. The beautiful, silly love of his life. Did she really think she would be able to forget him?

“Even if you had succeeded in forgetting me, did you really think I would let you forget me?” he inquired.

She smiled, her eyes twinkling in delight.

“No, I guess you wouldn’t. I love you,” she declared, knowing that no matter what she did, that would never change.

Oliver grinned, knowing it was the grin she absolutely adored. “I love you too, Clyde. And don’t you ever forget it.”