Until You Remember Me

Sunlight hits my face at an angle, sparkling over my dark tan skin to the gold bangles wrapped around my arm. The gold dances with the light as it reflects against my lavender sheer dress. I adjust my eyes to the light, fidgeting with my bangles and gold rings on my fingers. I frown as I look over the steps, my eyes gazing over the landscape. Olive trees swallow up the space on the right of the palace, swaying in the wind. Shrubs and flowers of all type blossom in the garden next to a fountain. The garden, made of daisies, roses, and jasmines, looks alive against the wind, teasing me with its beauty. The garden, if a human, would be the most beautiful woman in the world, a goddess. I lean against a column, taking a deep breath and piecing together my thoughts as I admire the landscape before me.

“My beloved.” A dark, velvet voice whispers softly on my skin, and I turn around to feel muscular, bronze arms laying on my back, pulling me in closer. My hands roam up to a bare chest, tensing up as I admire the way the muscles flex against my fingers. I gradually look up and partially gasp at the handsome face staring down at me, his eyes glistening like the Nile Sea and his sharp cheeks and big pouty lips frowning as his hands touch my face. His eyes appear sad, as though he has just lost something very important to him and wants to find it again. Part of me is hoping I am the something he once lost, for I want to get to know him more, feel his body against me in ways I didn’t even know I could think. I could tell he could sense that tension too as he lifts me up slightly off the ground and kiss my lips with such force. The kiss takes me by surprise, but soon, I devour it, my hands running down his back as I rub my body against him, desiring more. His lips long for me, taking every piece of me in slowly as if he might lose them again, and I could feel my back against the column. He lifts my leg, pulling the skirt of my dress away, and grips my thighs, his nails digging into me. Somehow, that made me want to kiss him harder, my hands touch every exposed skin on him, craving every kiss I felt. He moves his lips down my face and onto my neck, breathing in my skin before stopping, his chin on my shoulder. Keeping his grip on my leg, he pulls me in closer than I knew possible, our bodies merging until I felt like we were almost one body. I looked over his shoulder and cleared my throat.

“That’s one way of saying hello.” I breathe, hearing a harsh laugh against my shoulder as he lifts his head up. His smile makes my heart beat uncontrollably, the way it is charming and sly all at once. He kisses my forehead before letting go of my thigh but keeping my body against him.
“I couldn’t resist myself with so much beauty before me.” He smiles, touching my cheeks.
“You do have your way of making me blush,” I say as I can feel my cheeks turning a bright red, my eyes glancing down at his chest. His finger tilts my head back up, that big sly smile still on his face before he leans in and kisses me again. This time, the kiss is more passionate, his lips moving so slow and soft against mines. Butterflies in my stomach flutter everywhere as his lips part from mines and silently speaks.

“My beloved, you have your way of making me fall more deeply in love with you.” His sea blue eyes meet my hazel eyes, and before my mouth has a chance to respond, his lips are on mines, making me close my eyes. Part of me wants to stay like this forever, kiss his lips and rest underneath his body until the end of time. The other part of me wants to stop, though, and figure out who he is or where I am, but in the distance, a soft bang rings in my ears. The noise is like a soft crescendo, getting louder and making me lose focus. The guy parts his lips and mouths something, but before I look up at him, a loud bang hits my eardrum…

Bang. I gasp as I place my hand over my heart, my eyes wandering rapidly around me in confusion. My seat belt rolls up to my neck, practically choking me. I sit up in my seat, rubbing my eyes as it adjusts to the beaming light spreads over my car. I am in the parking lot of Clifford Heights High School, and I can recognize the pink nail polish on my best friend's hand that presses against my car window. I roll down my window and look at Willa as she frowns down at me.

“You got to stop sleeping in your car. It is not beneficial for your body nor sleep.”

Her hands are wrapped around her textbooks, her fingers slightly tapping on them out of impatience. I stare at my clock and realize it's fifteen minutes before school starts. I grab my book bag and coffee mug, glancing at my rearview mirror to check for any lines on my skin. My golden brown curls are ruffed up in the back of my head, and my rich beige skin is slightly glowing in the sunlight, my freckles looking more visible across my face. I fix my curls and rub my eyes then I take my keys out of the ignition, climbing out and locking my car. My eyes get a glimpse of Willa's outfit before I start walking forward to our school building, part of me cringe. Her hair is in a top knot bun, a black lace choker around her neck. Her floral lace top compliments her super tight denim skinny jeans and her sandals. Her acne and beauty mark above her lips are still visible under her makeup, but part of me want them to show up with her big rectangle glasses and braces. Instead, I just see glowing emerald eyes and a braces-free smile.

“I’m super excited to be a senior, I mean we have come so far from our youth and innocent years as underclassmen. Now, we have the title of seniors, which means that we are like above everyone else. Like queens among peasants.” Willa's voice has a cheesy exaggeration to it that makes me want to walk away from her, but I just keep a straight line on my face and continue walking by her side.

“Wow, sounds like someone woke up on the bright side of the bed today. Maybe before the end of the day, we will all ride on unicorns and wear our tiaras while sipping tea.” I snicker, and I could feel her eyes radiating heat on me, muttering something ugly under her breath.

“Cher, can you try not to be a bitch for one second? You agree you will change this year, and yet all I see is a hot mess. I mean, I know you have something better in your closet than those cut-outs jeans and faded band shirt. Those jeans look like the 70s bell bottoms throw up on it then it went through the shredder.” I stop walking and look at her, trying not to point out that I can see her nipples through her shirt or that dying her hair was a terrible mistake.

Willa used to have the most beautiful hair I have seen, reddish tints splashed onto her ash brown hair and hints of strawberry blonde hidden throughout her hair. The way light would hit it will make you envy her because her hair made her more beautiful than she already was. This summer, when she got her mom to buy her contacts and get her braces off, Willa also agreed to dye her hair almost yellow blonde, ruining her once fiery hair and causing her to lose a part of that pure beauty. I admit, my distress flare jeans and band shirt wasn’t the greatest look, but it is part of my personality. I’m like an old soul in a modern teenage body, and putting on a mini dress and heels isn’t part of who I am.

“Willa, you shouldn’t have expected me to change my appearance like you did. I like the way I look, and I refuse to look like Stephanie Rose. I rather gag on vomit than try to imitate her looks.” I make a sour look on my face at the mention of her name and keep on walking. I could feel Willa scolding at me, wishing I can just be normal and fit in like she is trying to do. I love Willa, but I am not going to sink to that level.

Speaking of Stephanie, I could see her talking to her boyfriend, Jake Rivera on top of the stairs, playing with his midnight black hair. His hand is grabbing her ass, whispering something in her ears. I gag and continue walking up the stairs, ignoring them, but I didn’t know my gag was loud enough to hear.

“Hey, I’m sorry. Are my hot boyfriend and I causing you discomfort? Because the last time I check, this is a free country, and I can make out with my boyfriend if I want. Besides, I bet you are jealous because no one would want to kiss a piece of shit.” She smirks, flipping her hair off her shoulder. I stop to give her a fake smile, wanting to strangle her right there, but I hold myself back.

“You know, it’s not that you are making out with your boyfriend that discomfort me, it just looks like someone is making out with a robot and that isn’t appealing. Also, if I’m a piece of shit, what are you? A pile of vomit? A pile of cow manure? Maybe you eat shit, seeing that there might be some on your white teeth. It won't surprise me if you do." I smirk back at her, starting to walk through our school doors. I could hear her call me a bitch as the doors close behind me.

“You know you can’t afford another time in detention.” Willa is right behind me, putting her hand on my shoulder to make me face her. I sigh and stare at her green eyes practically whining for mercy.

“That bitch deserves nothing, and I refuse to kiss her ass so that you can get on her good side. I’m sorry hanging out with me is giving you no seat at the “highness” table.” I turn around and walk to my locker, frustrated. I know Willa wants nothing more to be more than normal, to be popular and not the loser everyone thinks she is. She has changed her appearance to go from the “artist freak” to the Stephanie Rose wannabe, to live her senior year like she always dreamed she would. I also know she doesn’t want to abandon me, her loser of a friend. She knows that she will be throwing away eleven years of great friendship for years of fakeness, and as much as I want to make her happy, I also can’t lose the only friend I have. Being selfish is keeping me from letting her go.

Willa opens her locker next to mines, glazing in it for a long time. I shove some of my books and place my coffee mug in mines, and I put a picture of Willa and me from 2nd grade on the door, looking at it before shutting my door. When I looked to the right of me, Willa is staring at me with such disappointment. I glance down to avoid her eyes.

“You know I have dealt with your stubbornness and attitude for eleven years. Eleven years, I have had to pretend that everyone else was the lame ones and we were cool. I had to stick up for you when Stephanie or anyone made fun of you and talk shit behind your back. I have been your friend, and yet, as a thank you, I recently have been treated like I don't matter at all. I’m tired of the shit, Cher, and I’m fucking tired of being in a friendship that is only at 80% and not 100%.” She slams her door and starts walking before stopping and saying, “You know what, everyone is right. You are a cold-hearted bitch.”

I just freeze in place as I watch Willa walk to her class, taking in her words. I normally never care what people calls me, but hearing Willa say it really hit me in my stomach. Willa is right. We have been friends for so long, and as much as I have been there for here, I have never treated her like a best friend should. When her dad got deployed to Iran, I was never fully there to comfort her. I should have done more than telling her he’ll come back. The more I realize how awful of a friend I am, the more I feel like if I don’t get my life together and treat Willa better, I will lose my only best friend.

Taking a deep breath, I pull my book bag closer to me on my back, and I walk to my first class for today. It’s Honors English Literature, and I’m excited because my favorite teacher Ms. Lehrer will be teaching it this year. As I walk into the classroom, I smile at her, noticing that her light brown hair is graying in some areas and are in a tight bun on top of her head. Her face looks makeup free, revealing her natural beauty, and her warm brown eyes smile at me. She is like the fairytale teacher everyone reads about, for she is sweet and passionate, making sure that every assignment is easy for us to understand. She makes every class interesting, and when we all have a good grade in class, she brings in her home-made baked goods to celebrate. I have never once frown in her class because she makes it hard to be sad with her.

I sit in my normal spot in every classroom, in the back where no one can see me or acknowledge me. Everyone takes their seats as well, and I am pleased when they are only one seat empty next to me. Ms. Lehrer starts to talk about how excited and thrilled she is about this class year and wants us to know that she can’t wait to start on our first assignment, which is to read The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe. He is my favorite author and poet, so I have no complaints. She gives out sheets of paper and tells us to write down our normal information about us like our name, our goal for this year, and so forth. As much as I despise ice breakers, I know Ms. Lehrer is the only person I will do this for. I dig into my book bag and discover that I can’t find a single pencil or pen. I search twice to make sure I haven’t passed one but dumbfound when I can’t find anything. How can I not bring pencils or pens to school?

Then I realize that I left them on my bed this morning. My mom and dad were arguing as usual about something that didn’t matter, and I was occupied by the thoughts of leaving and wanting not to come back. I had brushed my hair quickly and shoved my books into my book bag, checking myself in the mirror before departing my room. I didn’t look back to make sure I left something, for I grabbed a cup of coffee from our kitchen and left the minute I heard the conversation heat up in my parents' room. Now, I wish I looked back and got my pencils and pens.

Suddenly, as I am enraged in myself for leaving some supplies, I see from the corner of my eyes someone has come into our classroom. I glance up from my book bag, and I gasp quietly, keeping my surprise face from unraveling.

A tall, bronze guy with short cinnamon brown hair is standing right in front of the class with Mrs. Evans, our school's secretary. She clears her throat, pushes her rectangle framed glasses onto her nose with a finger, and adjust her gray pencil skirt around her hips. Something about the guy, though, seems so familiar. I stare at him, trying to pinpoint where I have met this stranger from, but his blue eyes are looking at me, making me uncomfortably nervous. I glance away and look down at my desk while Mrs. Evans talks.

“Hello, class. I hate to interrupt, but I come with a new student. His name is Liam um, what is your last name?” She looks at him, hoping he can introduce himself to the class. Liam smiles and laughs while he looks at the class. His deep, baritone laugh makes me lift my head up enough to see his sly smile and look beyond belief. A thought comes into my head, but I shake my head in disbelief. Can he be the guy that is always in my dreams? Is that possible?

“Kennard. To keep the introduction short, I’m from Santa Fe, which explains the tan, and I have never been around this area of the country before, but I am excited to be here.” His eyes make their way to me, and I quickly duck my head down on the desk, taking deep, shallow breaths and closing my eyes in disbelief. He can’t be the guy in my dreams. Maybe I am imagining all of this, for I have had a lack of sleep lately. I need another cup of coffee.

“Well, Mr. Kennard will need someone to walk him around to make sure he gets to his class, for obviously, I can’t do it. Do I have a volunteer?” Mrs. Evans waits until a few hands raise. I keep my head down, so no one notices me. However, Mrs. Evans notices me from afar and decides to make my day worse. “Ah yes, Ms. Bellini, thank you for volunteering. It would be a wonderful opportunity to redeem yourself since last year.”

Everyone in my class turns their head to look back at me, and my immediate thought is how much I hate her.

Ms. Lehrer decides to make matters worse and offers Liam the seat next to me. He puts his book bag down and seats down as I turn my head around and pretend he is not there. I glare down at my blank sheet and sigh. My day has just not been in my favor, and worse, the guy I think I had a dream about is next to me, tempting me more into my sanity. Can I just restart and imagine that all of this isn’t happening?

“Hey, um, you might need this.” I can feel something tapping my shoulder, and out of curiosity, I turn my head back to his direction to see a pen in his hand. Liam is giving me a big grin as I stare at the pen, wondering if he knew I needed one. I take it slowly out of his hand, my eyes on it not his face. I whisper thank you and begin writing my information now before Ms. Lehrer picks them up. The minute I finish, I hear the bells ring and quickly grab my bag and throw the pen in it. I want to just run out of the classroom to my next class so I can just deal with this day without contact, but suddenly I forget about Liam and stop in my tracks by the door.

“I didn’t catch your name. Do you mind giving me your name?” He gives me that sly smile again, and that causes my heart to flutter, which makes me uncomfortable because I have never had this feeling before. Liam takes a step close to me, but I quickly step outside the door of Ms. Lehrer’s classroom, avoiding any chance of my heart beating out of control. I take a deep breath to slow my heart rate and turn around to see him standing there in front of me.

“Cheryl, but my friends call me Cher. You aren’t a friend, though, so don’t call me that. Any more questions, Kennard?” I speak with such passive-aggression that I hope he gets the memo that I’m not in the mood for small chatter, yet, he laughs a little and walks closer to me.

“Liam. It’s Liam, but you can call me Kennard if you want to, Cher. I mean Cheryl. I’m hoping I will one day have the privilege to call you Cher, though.” Suddenly, my stomach is filled with butterflies, making me want to step away, but I freeze in my spot, staring at him after he says my name. Up close, I can see that his blue eyes are similar to a sparkling ocean that are staring down at me, and his big lips move, but no sound are coming out. I’m so lost in his trance; I don’t realize that my mouth has been slightly open this entire time. I shake myself out of my trance, and I stare at him again with confusion across my face.

“What did you say? I am sorry, I think I accidentally spaced out.”

“You did. I just said if you know where my history class is. Are you okay? You don’t look quite okay.” He says, his smile now replaced with a fine line, his eyes staring at me with concern. What’s wrong with me? First I think this guy is from my dreams, and now, I’m staring at him like a lost bamboo. I need to get myself together.

“Sorry, I had a rough morning. I apologize for being a little out of it. Where is your class again?” I shift my feet, moving my shoulders as I readjust my backpack.

He looks at me one more time before looking at the paper in his hand. “Room 204 with Mr. Hawthorne.”

“Ah, Mr. Cray-throne. Yes, you are going to love his class. It’s this way.” I start to laugh lightly and feel a smile spreading on my face at him, which quickly disappears as it shows up. I can hear him laugh right behind me as we walk down the hallways. I try to keep my distance, not wanting his skin to touch mines in this crowded hallway accidentally. Secretly in my mind, though, I want his hand rubbing against my skin, feeling it get warm under his touch. The thought comes to my mind, and I shift my eyes to his direction. He must have been thinking the same thing because his eyes meet mines, and I quickly look away. I can feel my face light up and begin heating up like a lightbulb under a lamp. Where is Mr. Hawthorne's classroom?

“You know your parents made a mistake of bringing you to poor town Clifford Heights, Tennessee. It is not like Nashville or Memphis. You end up feeling cursed here.” I slightly laugh, hoping me starting a conversation can make this awkwardness better.

“Well, my parents came for business, and plus I think it is beautiful here. It has gotten more beautiful now.” He grins at me, and I suddenly decide to smile back, my cheeks getting warmer than before. I stop in front of a classroom and turn to look at him, readjusting my book bag on my shoulders and clearing my throat a little.

“Well, here is your classroom. Try to speak up in this class. Mr. Hawthorne likes it when someone does that, but also he is hard of hearing,” I joke. Liam chuckles a little, and for a second, I don’t want this conversation between us to come to an end. He starts to walk in, but then stops and looks back at me.

“You know you are the only person I know in this school. It would be great if maybe we can grab lunch together.” He combs his hand through his brown hair, glancing down. I put on the biggest smile I have ever had on my face, my entire body on fire. He kind of looks cute when he is sheepish.

“Yes, I can do lunch with you, Kennard. Lunch hours are noon to 1:30. I can meet you here since you don’t know your way around.” I step back to make my way to my next class. “I hope you enjoy your history class. See you at noon.”

He nods and waves as I turn around and head to my Chemistry class with Mrs. Henry. The thoughts of Liam start spouting in my head, filling me with unexpected warmth and pleasure. Somehow, he is starting to do something to my heart, and as much as I want to dig deeper into that feeling, the part of me that has been closed quickly takes over. My smile disappears, and the thoughts of him fade away. I must focus on making it through this day, and letting this thought of a guy conquer me will not be how my day goes on.