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, shesays, “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 genuineheartthrob. 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.”
