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“Of course I did!”Sort of.“He wouldn't tell me.”
“Jesus. I just left you alone with him. What if he’d done something to silence you?”
“He’s not a murderer, Pippa.” That much I’m certain. He may have been involved in Jade’s death, but I don’t think it was intentional. Mind you, many serial killers don’t seem like the type to murder people and still do it.No. That’s not Jesse.
“And before you ask, I have no intention of telling our parentsorthe police.”
Pippa cringes with a comedic expression, like the idea makes her sick. “I wouldn’t be telling them either. But God, do I want words with Jesse. I’m glad I didn’t know before today.”
When she says that, a thought hits me. After Jesse left the hospital, no one questioned me about why he was there and why he was so desperate to see me. Except Sara. “What did youthinkhappened?” I ask, wondering if that might explain things.
“I assumed the asshole had saved you and then told you he didn’t want any strings or that his life was too ‘complicated.’” She uses finger quotes as though that’s an exact excuse he’s used before, making my insides squirm. “I’ll admit, I was confused when Tate called to tell me where you were, but I figured Jesse had run into him and asked for help.”
Makes sense.I would have believed that too if I hadn’t seen Jesse’s expression when he arrived.
“Please don’t mention any of this to Jesse. Not yet,” I ask, looking her in the eye to show her I’m serious, but to my surprise she easily agrees.
“I won’t. As much as I’d like to, it’s not my place.”
“Thank you.”
Pippa kicks her leg out and pokes me in the knee with her toe, her attempt at affection without having to move. She smiles for a moment until a flash of pain crosses her face. “So, even after being up there with Jesse and discovering he was therethat day,you still don’t remember anything?”
“Not a thing,” I say, running a hand down my face because it’s so freaking frustrating. “I’ve been working with Gretchen again, but still…nothing.”
“God, I’m sorry. That must be frustrating.”
“It is.” I laugh to myself after thinking the same thing. “Although Sara mentioned my password, Robin Hood, and she thought that maybe I remem—”
Pippa gasps as her hand flies to her mouth. “It’s Jesse’s nickname.”
What?I stare at her blankly as my mind fights to process what she just said.
“Tate calls JesseRobin. I laughed about it. And when Sara told us your password, and Jesse was shocked, my first thought was that you’d spoken to Tate. Which was strange because I knew he always made you uncomfortable. God, now we know why.” She shivers. “I never once considered you only knew it because Jesse was there on the mountain. But Sara’s right. You must have remembered that. How else would you know?”
“Maybe I overheard it?” I shrug. I can’t fathom the idea that after all this time, I just randomly remembered something. There must be an explanation.
“You may have. But what if you didn’t? What if you’ve also remembered other things but they seem so insignificant that you pushed them out of your mind?”
“Like what?” I ask, but instantly regret it.How would she know?
Pippa laughs, reading my inner thoughts, before she frowns. “God, I wish I could tell you. I don’t even know how to find out.”
We both fall silent after that, staring into space. I spend the time trying not to spiral, trying to figure out how the hell I knew about Robin Hood, as Pippa presumably tries to come up with ideas.
“God, I loved thatRobin Hoodactor,” she says suddenly, out of nowhere. “You know, the one that was inThe Princess Bride.”
Or she’s daydreaming about Hollywood men.
“Did you ever watch it?” she asks, but she’s so lost in a memory that I doubt she’d hear my response even if I gave one. The answer being no. I know ofThe Princess Bride, but I’ve never seen it. “Ah the memories,” she says wistfully as though we weren’t just talking about something important. I’m about to make her snap out of it when she adds, “Westley and his Buttercup.”
“What?!” I bark out in shock, and then cover my mouth. Iknewthe name Buttercup was inThe Princess Bride. Well, at least, I knew it was in a movie. But I never made that connection when Jesse was callingmeButtercup. He said it was about the flower.
Pippa grimaces before her expression turns apologetic. “God, I’m sorry. Now’s not the time to be-”
“No.” I cut her off even though I’m not sure I want to tell her about my name. It may have started as something negative, but as time went on, it grew on me. And now it feels like a secret between Jesse and me. But talking about it may help me remember.
“Jesse calls me Buttercup,” I say shyly, refusing to look Pippa in the eye.
