AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Not possible. Because I still hate you,” I whispered, so confused about how I was feeling.
He nuzzled against the top of my head.
“I still don’t believe you.”
For the first time, I noticed that he was carrying a bag. “What's that?”
“A little gift for you,” he said, handing it over to me.
I opened the gift bag to find a high school jersey. As I pulled it out, the green and black colors struck me with a wave of nostalgia. I'd learned to recognize the feeling, even if I couldn't access the memories behind the emotion.
“Your old jersey?”
He nodded. I turned around to see his name written across the back.
“Are you sure that you want to give this to me?” I asked. “It must have so many memories attached to it...”
“That's exactly why I want to give it to you,” he told me. “Because those memories belong to you, Kennedy.”
I stared at him, feeling lost for words as hope blossomed inside me.
“So, youdoknow who I am?”
“I do.”
“Why haven’t you told me?” I cried out, feeling lost and overwhelmed.
“Let me explain.” He glanced toward the arena, where there were noises like the game had just started. “You want to go in? I know they won’t be able to concentrate without you.”
“They know who I am too?”
Greyson nodded.
Abruptly, I shook his jersey out and pulled it over my head. I mean he deserved a reward for finally giving me…something.
A look of sheer joy came over Greyson’s face. “That looks good on you. I haven’t seen you wearing my jersey in so long. It’s going to make them crazy, you know…”
“I know.” It wasn’t quite a memory, teasing at my conscious mind. Just something I knew about these guys. “They deserve it.”
* * *
A few minutes later, Greyson and I were sitting right behind the penalty box, despite the fact that I’d told him I wasn’t going to sit by him.
“I wish I could’ve seen you play in high school,” I said, toying with my name necklace, which I’d always had a habit of fidgeting with. “I would’ve been your number one fan. Or…was I?”
“You were the best fan,” he told me, his gaze fond. “The only one I ever cared about.”
“Greyson… please…talk to me.” Tears tinged my voice, surprising us both. I wiped them away, and he tried to pull me into his lap, but I pushed him away.
“Kennedy.” He got down on his knees in front of me, tugging my hands away from his eyes so I was forced to make eye contact with him. “Listen. Don’t hate me for not telling you…hate those motherfuckers if you want, but don’t hate them for that. We had good reason.”
“What’s that?”
“I did my research on amnesia,” he told me. “I talked to some of the best doctors in the country trying to figure out how to help you. If anyone just tells you about your past, you might never recover the memories for yourself. You’ll just have the version of whatever they tell you, but not your memories. And I need you to remember, Kennedy. I need you to remember us.”
I stared down at him. “So this has all been some elaborate plot…”
“You need to work through your amnesia yourself,” he told me firmly. “As things jog your memory, as you dream about the past, your brain is trying to reconnect those synapses. There’s no shortcut here, though, Kennedy. If we tell you about your past…we destroy your chance of ever recovering it yourself.”
