WAKING UP IN my room feels a lot better than waking up in the hospital, that's the first thing I establish upon opening my eyes the next morning. There are no blinding white lights, no strange voices, the mattress is a lot comfier, and it's private. I sit up slowly, sighing and running a hand through my hair.

I do a scan of the bedroom, looking over every detail, hoping that maybe I missed something yesterday, and there really is something in here that will help jog my memory. But the room looks just as unfamiliar as it did before. I'm not sure what I was expecting. Nothing changes overnight.

Extracting myself from under the sheets, I walk across the floor and pull the door open quietly, making for the bathroom. I tiptoe down the creaky stairs, not wanting to wake anyone. Once I reach the bottom, I peek in the open doors of the hallway, trying to remember exactly where it is.

Finally, I spot the familiar oak pattern of the bathroom door, and head inside, sighing with relief. After finishing and washing up, I look in the mirror, studying the face that stares back at me once more. I wonder how long it will take me to get used to my reflection. I tilt my chin, turning my head, examining it from all angles.

I try out several smiles, but all of them feel horribly fake and tight. The only way my expression looks okay is if I'm completely emotionless.

Absentmindedly, my hand goes to my side, thinking of the secret wound no one has told me about. I make a mental note to research how to care for stitches as I search through the medicine cabinet for some painkillers, popping two and swallowing them down with water from the sink. Once I'm finished, I twist the doorknob, opening the door to leave the bathroom.

I stop short when I see Parker in the hallway, and he freezes in his tracks. He swallows when he sees that it's me, shooting me an apologetic smile that I don't return. Instead, I fold my arms, narrowing my eyes in a glare.

He raises his eyebrows, the smile slipping off his face.

"Okay," he starts, "that is definitely an Allie look. Are you sure you're not just pretending to forget everything?"

I remain deadpan, unamused. "Positive."

Parker chuckles quietly. "Must be muscle memory. You were always the master of giving people looks that could kill."

I lower my gaze to the floor. There's a silence as I swallow, and I meet his eyes again as he sighs.

The amused look has vacated his face, replaced by one of defeat, his brown eyes pleading with mine. "I'm sorry about what happened yesterday."

"I am too," I say firmly.

His dark eyebrows pull together as he shakes his head. "Don't be." He pauses, running his tongue over his lips briefly. "It's my fault. Just... forget about it."

Scoffing, I raise an eyebrow. "Is that a joke? I already have amnesia."

He's silent for a few before he processes my words, exhaling a laugh, and I feel my own lips twitch. The movement draws his eyes, causing my pulse to quicken.

"Bad word choice," he remarks.

I hold his gaze for a moment, before clearing my throat. "What are you still doing here, anyway?"

Parker sighs, dragging a hand over his cropped, black hair, suddenly looking tired. "My landlord evicted me out of the blue because of renovations. Your family was kind enough to let me crash here until I find something better."

I close my eyes in irritation. I was hoping I'd be able to avoid him, but it looks like that won't be happening now. "Best of the luck in your search," I say shortly.

Hearing footsteps in the distance, I push past him into the hallway, feeling like I can breathe again. I find my way to the kitchen, hunger gnawing in my stomach. Realizing I don't know my way around this kitchen, I begin opening cupboards and drawers, looking for both food and cutlery. I locate a couple boxes of cereal, and decide to try one of those.

Once I'm settled at the breakfast nook and well into my bowl, Sofia enters the kitchen, and it feels like she carries a brisk wind with her. She's in the process of putting in her earrings, donning a red blouse that complements her skin nicely, beneath a black blazer, and her pencil skirt is neatly pressed. It seems she doesn't notice me for a few moments, but when she does, she gives me a look, appraising me, and looking at what I'm eating.

She raises an eyebrow, opening the fridge and grabbing a carton of orange juice. "I see you remember how to make yourself breakfast."

"Yeah, I guess there are some things you can't forget," I joke, but she doesn't laugh.

"The doctor said your procedural memory is still intact," she replies seriously, igniting a flicker of irritation in my chest.

She pours herself a glass, downing it quickly, then grabs an apple from the fruit basket on the counter, glancing at her watch the whole time, and I assume she's about to leave for work.

"What do you do?" I finally ask, wanting to break the awkward silence.

Sofia blinks at me, seemingly caught off guard by the question. "Oh," she says, "I'm a lawyer."

"Makes sense," I reply, raising my eyebrows. I wouldn't want to face her in a courtroom.

She checks her watch again. "You should probably get moving. School starts in half an hour."

I nearly choke on my spoonful of cereal, eyes widening in disbelief. "School?" I repeat in horror. "That's a little too soon, don't you think? I only got out of the hospital yesterday!"

Shrugging a shoulder noncommittally, she puts the orange juice back in the fridge. "Dr. Meyer—you remember him? He said it was best to get you back into your normal routine as soon as possible. It could help you regain your memory."

I feel my fingers curl into fists subconsciously, my nails digging into my palms. "Of course I remember him," I say stiffly. "Do you even understand how overwhelming that's going to be?" I ask, getting angrier by the second. "Coming home and not even remembering my own family was enough, now I have to go spend the day with hundreds of unfamiliar people?"

"Alina," she silences me, looking stern. "You're going, and that's final. Doctor's orders."

She turns away, but I'm not finished yet. "But I could as least use a few days to—"

Sofia whirls back around, looking at me in disbelief. "What did I just say? We're going to get things back to normal around here. For your sake. Now, get ready for school, Audrey will give you a ride. I have to go, I'm going to be late."

Before I can say anything else, Sofia exits the room, and moments later I hear the door slam shut. I let out a breath, shaking my head and folding my arms. Parker was right. We must have fought a lot, because that whole argument just felt like second nature to me.

I hurriedly down the rest of my food, eyebrows furrowed, before rushing upstairs, knowing I have no choice but to go to school.

After I've re-entered my bedroom, I appraise the closet, looking for something to wear. The majority of the clothing is black, like apparently I was always dressed for a funeral before the accident. I select a pair of jeans, and a black turtleneck, pulling it over my head, feeling a sickening tugging sensation on the left side of my abdomen. I run a comb through my hair briefly, before heading to the dresser in search of a pair of socks.

I dig through the drawer for a pair that will look decent with my outfit, until my hand lands on something rectangular, made of cardboard. I frown, pulling it out of the drawer to examine it. An opened pack of cigarettes.

Keeping it in my hand, I quickly look through the rest of the drawer, trying to find anything else that's hidden. I don't come up empty-handed. My fingers find something soft, and I grimace, having a bad feeling about it. My hand comes out of the drawer clutching a small bag of what appears to be marijuana.

I raise my eyebrows, looking back and forth between them, between these secret pieces of my past self. How on earth did I manage this with someone like Sofia hovering around?

My pondering comes to an abrupt halt as I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. My heart starts racing and I shove the packet and the bag deep into the drawer, throwing pairs of socks on top before grabbing one, slamming the drawer shut. The door clicks open soon after that, and I whirl around, praying it's not Parker.

It's Audrey.

She enters hesitantly, a gentle smile pulling at her lips, and I plaster a smile onto my own face. "Morning," she greets pleasantly.

"Hi," I breathe.

She appraises my outfit, folding her hands together. "Ready to go?"

I glance at the mirror, adjusting my sweater, and nodding, a bout of nerves arising in my stomach. "Ready as I'll ever be, I guess."

✘✘✘

The ride to school is silent, and uncomfortable, made even worse by what happened yesterday with Parker. I can hardly look her in the eye without feeling guilty, and the way she's being so nice to me makes it even harder. I'm eager to get out of the car, even if it means I have to go into the school and be met with a sea of strange faces.

She pulls up in front of the school, and I take a deep breath, inhaling through my nose and exhaling through my mouth, knee bouncing anxiously. I bite my lip, eyeing the plethora of students making their way through the entrance, wondering how many of them I'm supposed to know, how many of them are my friends. The thought makes a wave of nausea roll in my stomach.

I don't notice Audrey's intent gaze on the side of my face until I hear her voice. "I think it's way too soon for you to be going to school."

I blink in her direction, letting out a breath. "Thank you," I remark. "At least someone's on my side."

She meets my eyes, shaking her head in annoyance. "It's ridiculous. You only got home yesterday," she emphasizes, before giving a defeated shrug. "But that's just the way mom is. I tried to talk to her. She just wants everything to go back to normal."

My mouth pulls into a frown of disbelief as I shake my head. "Why?"

She raises an eyebrow. "She doesn't like things being out of her control."

I press my lips together, pondering her words. She reaches out, surprising me, grabbing my hand gently and intertwining our fingers, her thumb stroking the top of my hand. "It's going to be okay," she says softly. "Parker told me everything."

My heart stops, limbs freezing. "He did?" I ask, my voice sounding far away. 

"Yeah," she continues, raising her eyebrows. "I know how worried you are about seeing everyone."

"Oh." I can't help the short laugh of relief that escapes as I reach up, running my free hand through my hair.

"Today's going to be hard. But if anyone can get through this, it's you," she elaborates, before smiling and lightly punching my shoulder. "Go get 'em, tiger."

"Thanks," I breathe, and the brief smile I give her is all I can manage at the moment.

I place my hand on the door handle and push it open, stepping out of the car. I slide my backpack over my shoulder, calling out a goodbye and closing the door behind me. Taking one last deep breath, I lift my chin and head toward the front doors.

I'm well aware of when the first person notices me, aware of their stare that feels like fingers on my skin, aware of the way they lean closer to the person standing next to them, whispering into their ear. It continues on like this, the whispers multiplying the further into school I get. I resist the urge to reach up and scratch my neck, feeling squirmy from the attention.

Though I try not to, I hear snatches of conversations. Allie's back. I hear she lost her memory. Do you think she's faking it? Seems like something she'd do. I grit my teeth, forcing myself to look straight ahead and pretend I don't hear them. I've put a great deal of distance between me and the front entrance before I realize I have absolutely no idea where I'm going.

I come to an abrupt halt, and it feels like I'm surrounded by the watchful gazes of my peers. I'm about to turn and make a beeline for the office when I feel an arm slip through mine. I flinch, looking up, seeing a beautiful blonde girl smiling back at me. I recognize her instantly; she's the girl in the photos with me.

I open my mouth to speak, but she beats me to it. "Allie," she greets brightly, her smile looking more like a smirk. "You sure know how to grab everyone's attention."

My eyebrows furrow as I struggle to follow her lead. "Thank... you?" I reply, unsure of what to say.

"Come, let's get ready for class," she says, her blue eyes digging into me pointedly, and I nod obediently, thankful for her company.

After winning my approval, she tugs me down the hallway, clearly having noticed how utterly lost I was. She purses her lips together, narrowing her eyes, setting her deadly gaze on everyone who stares, causing them to cower. An impressed smile creeps onto my face as I follow her blindly. She stops at a specific row of navy blue lockers, fingers enclosing the padlock on the outside. She twirls the dial effortlessly, before swinging the door open.

"Thank you," I sigh, my shoulders sagging in relief.

She leans against the locker next to mine, looking like a model as she watches me with pursed lips. "So it's true then," she states, dropping the bubbly act from before. My eyebrows furrow slowly. "You really did lose your memory," she clarifies. "I wasn't sure what to believe. Your mom didn't say much."

I drop my eyes, turning my attention to the now opened locker. "Yeah," I say quietly. Staring at the books inside, I realize I have no idea what class I have first or what books I'll need for it. I begin to rifle through it, searching for a class schedule, and deciding to look through every notebook until I find the right one.

She notices my struggle. "We have English first. It's the blue notebook. You'll also need your copy of Hamlet."

"You're a lifesaver," I say gratefully. I pick out the correct books, tucking them under my arm. "Now, how does one go about locating the English classroom?"

I don't get the answer I'm expecting. "That means you don't remember me, then," she says in a low voice, and I look at her in surprise, seeing that her blue eyes look guarded, beneath furrowed eyebrows.

It begins, I think idly, my stomach twisting. "No," I murmur. "I'm sorry." I pause for a moment, biting the inside of my cheek. "But judging all the photos of us together, I'm guessing we were close."

She grunts, fiddling with a lock of hair. "Best friends." She sees the look on my face, and clears her throat, extending a hand with a tentative smile. "Zoe."

I return the smile fleetingly, shaking her hand, and trying to swallow the lump of guilt that's formed in my throat. "Hi, Zoe," I reply.

"It's fine, I'm sure you'll remember everything when you see Dylan," she reasons, before brightening, her gaze fixating on something behind me as her lips pull up into a smirk once more. "Speak of the devil."

My stomach clenches with fear as I turn around quickly, seeing two attractive boys approaching. I immediately recognize the boy on the right, the touchy one in all of the photos. His inky hair is longer than in the pictures, his skin golden and sun-kissed as he gives me a crooked grin. The boy next to him is tall and intimidating, with piercing blue eyes, though he wears a grin to match his companion's. He's big and muscular, and he approaches me first, placing a peck on my cheek.

"There's my girl," he says, voice low.

I'm sure the look on my face is one of complete confusion, causing the boy to burst into laughter, doing nothing to quell the panic rising in my chest. The other boy—the one I assumed I had the romantic relationship with—shoves him aggressively, and Zoe fights a smile, rolling her eyes.

"James was just being an ass, as usual," Dylan explains.

I laugh, more out of shock than out of humor. "Was that a prank?"

James' grin remains, but he looks somewhat less amused. "Sorry. It was more of a test." Reluctantly, it seems, he completely wipes the smile from his face. "The memory loss is worse than I thought. Weeks ago, you would've slapped me across the face for doing that."

"God, is it too late to slap you?" I ask, embarrassed heat rushing to my face.

James throws his head back in laughter. "That's more like it."

Dylan smoothly steps between us, and suddenly I feel cornered, my back pressing against the locker behind me. He places his hand above my shoulder, the space between us rapidly growing smaller, and my heart begins to race again.

"Don't pay attention to him, I'm the real thing," he murmurs.

His hand drops from my chin to my waist, and he finds the line of bare skin between the hem of my shirt and the top of my jeans, and it's way too much, way too fast. His fingers are a whisper from the bandage, and I hurriedly shove him away with a little too much force.

"Don't touch me," I blurt, dropping my books in the scuffle.

He stumbles backwards, looking startled, and my mouth falls open, looking between the three of them. Zoe and James watch me with wide eyes, and a sick feeling settles in my gut.

"I-I'm sorry," I stammer. "That's a lot for me to handle right now."

I crouch down, trying not to wince in pain as I scramble to pick up my books, before stalking past them, entering a different hallway. I ignore the stares, blinking back tears. I debate skipping school for the day, knowing the rest of my day probably won't get much better. Dylan, Zoe, and James are only three members of the large population of Pender Falls High. Each and every person will have their own idea of me in their head. They won't like it when the real version doesn't match up. And why do all of them have to be so damn touchy?

I've gotten myself completely and utterly lost by the time I hear Zoe's voice behind me, and that's the only reason I stop.

"Allie," she calls, and I stop walking, but I don't turn around.

She comes around to stand in front of me, her blonde eyebrows furrowed in concern. I meet her eyes, my own still blurry with tears. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to push him so hard, it's just—"

"Dylan's fine. He'll get over it," she reassures me, shaking her head. Pausing, she studies me, pursing her glossy lips together. "How are you?"

I haul in a shaky breath, shaking my own head. "Not fine."

She places a hand on my shoulder lightly, looking at me with pity. "You'll have to forgive us," she murmurs. "We're all trying to adjust to a new normal. We all need time. Things will get better."

"You're right," I say sincerely, sniffling.

She gives me a small smile. "Now, let's go to class. You're going the wrong way."