It takes me about two minutes into the taxi ride to realize what I've forgotten. My cellphone. My mom still has it! I can't warn Owen about my arrival. I can't have my mom or Clarin checking in on me. I have absolutely zero contact until I get to where I'm headed.

Florence, Oregon.

That's all I know about the place. It's supposedly gorgeous.

It takes me about five minutes to become extremely bored. I fiddle with my fingers, check my hair for split ends, I even hum some songs that the guy is playing on the radio. I can't seem to occupy myself well enough. Ugh. Boredom sucks.

"Hello," I say to the man driving me.

When he doesn't answer, I continue.

"I'm Brinley."

He looks at me through the rearview mirror, a frown showing through his bearded face. Whoa, okay, bad day much?

"I'm Phill," he says gruffly, then his eyes are on the road again.

I clear my throat. "Hi Phill. Um, would you mind changing the channel? I hate this song."

Let Her Go by Passenger is playing and I am doing all I can not to jump right out of the car. Not literally, of course, we don't need that again.

Phill stares at me again, surprised. His finger jabs at the 3 button and it turns to a lame country song that I don't know. I would say something, but he's tapping his fingers along with the song and for some reason that makes me happy. Phill likes country music.

"How old are you, Phill?" I ask, trying to make small talk mostly for my own sake.

"Forty-three," he replies quickly, turning on his blinkers so he can enter the freeway.

"Do you have any kids?" I ask him.

"A daughter," he replies, speeding up past a very slow car.

"Aw, what's her name?" I smile, looking out the window now.

"Loki," he replies, looking highly annoyed by my questions. Loki. What an... interesting... name for a daughter.

"How old is she? What's she like?" I ask.

"She's twenty and just married her boyfriend Kale in Las Vegas. She's a performer up there. 'Course a girl like you wouldn't be much likin' of it," he says.

And that's the end of my conversation with Phill the taxi driver.

<•>•<•>

Four hours later, I'm almost dead asleep, the music acting as a lullaby. But every time I think about Owen, I wake right back up. I don't know if I'm excited or anxious or both. It's weird. I feel so conflicted.

I know I want to meet his family... Of course, I've seen them before, but I don't remember it.

Phill hasn't spoken a word to me and I'm perfectly fine with that. He kind of creeps me out anyways.

"Girl," he says.

"Brinley," I correct without thinking.

"Brinley," he frowns. "I can't take you all the way to Florence. I'm going to take you to a bus station and you'll take that the rest of the way. This is my max distance."

My eyes widen. "Oh." I had no idea they do that.

Part of me thinks he's only doing this because I'm annoying him a lot. I mean, what does he expect? Me to sit back here silently? No, I'm going to hum along and talk because I have to entertain myself somehow.

"Here you are," he says, pulling over.

I pull out the correct amount of money I owe him and hand it over, grabbing my bag and exiting.

Whatever this place is that he's dropped me off at, I don't like it much. As soon as my feet touch the sidewalk, Phill peels down the street, leaving me stranded here. I sigh, looking around worriedly. Why, oh why, does this tiny bus station have to be surrounded by woods? It is freaking me out.

I have nothing to protect myself if I get jumped... Unless you count mascara a weapon. I suppose I could jab it into someone's eyeball, but that's the best I've got.

As I walk towards the small building, I can see that the yellow walls are molding at the bottom. The stench is so strong that I have to physically plug my nose. I press the rusty door open with my fingertips, grimacing.

The lights are flickering and dim. There are two long benches on either wall. Between those against the opposite wall, a ticket booth sits. A woman who looks half asleep sits there, staring at me.

"Here for a bus, dollface?" She asks, gum smacking. She rubs her eyes, pursing her lips now. She must be at least fifty years old. At least.

"Yes," I walk over, frowning as I get nice whiff of old-lady perfume. "I'm hoping to get to Florence. And soon."

"You're in luck," she says with a smile. I wish she hasn't. Her teeth are disgusting. "A bus headed to Florence will be here in about an hour."

"Oh, thank goodness," I sigh, smiling in relief.

"You came at the right time, hun. That bus only comes once a week," she smacks her gum again.

I pay her and walk over to a seat. Nobody else is in here. Not a single person but me and Ms. Bazooka Bubblegum. I have this feeling that she's staring at me, but I refuse to turn my head.

The hour passes slowly, let me tell you. I did find a clock on the wall, and it reads that it is four o'clock in the morning. Tapping my foot, I wait to hear anything like an approaching car.

And when I finally see lights outside, I let out a very relieved breath. I hate this place and I really want to leave. And now. It's freaking me out and it's very disgusting. Very disgusting.

The bus doors open for me, and I hurry inside, showing him my ticket. The man must be older than the woman that was inside. The guy takes his sweet time inspecting my ticket. He gives me a toothless smile in understanding.

"Florence, eh," he says. "My ma used to live there. It's 'bout four and a half hours from here. Take a seat, ma'am."

I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that I'm not all alone on this ride. There is a young couple in the back, looking at a map. Then there's an old man staring at me. And a father and his son in the front.

I bite my lip, making my way towards the back. I sit myself in the set of seats beside the couple. They don't even seem to notice. I throw my bag down just in time for the bus to pull out.

"Hello, there!"

I look over and find the young couple both looking at me with grins now. The guy is growing out some facial hair, very dark. He's got these nerdy square glasses, but a friendly smile. The girl has dark red hair, pulled into two braids. She has wide eyes and an easy smile as well.

"Hi," I say cautiously.

"I'm Destry, and this is Tyce," the girl says, gesturing to the man.

"Hello," I wave a little. "I'm Brinley."

"And what might you be doing here in the middle of the night, Brinley?" Tyce asks me.

I sigh, looking down. "Well, long story short, I'm going to go meet my boyfriend's family, but they already know me."

"How is that possible?" Destry asks, eyes widening further than I thought they could go. "Did they converse with you in your sleep or something?"

I laugh at the strangeness of this conversation, dragging a hand down my face. Then I shake my head. "No. Nothing like that. I just don't remember them."

"Oh- Oh!" Tyce exclaims. He hits Destry excitedly on the shoulder. "Oh! You're the girl who tragically lost her memory! Yes, I recognize your face now. You were on the news for about a week, you were."

"Right, that's who you are, I remember alright," Destry comments as well. "I'm happy you're going off to meet your boyfriend's family."

"I am too," I say, feeling highly uncomfortable right now. Had everyone in the country seen my face on the news? That is terrifying. I bite my lip, looking away.

"Do you love him?" Destry asks, looking at me dreamily.

I'm taken aback for a moment, blinking a few times. When is this conversation going to be over? "Oh... Yes. I do. A lot." And then I smile.

"Good," Destry smiles as well. "I love Tyce here, too. We're engaged, you see."

I nod. "Exciting."

In all honesty, I don't care about these people's lives. Nice and friendly, though they might be, I'm no longer in the mood to talk. I am very tired and want to sleep the rest of the way. Besides, the life story is a bit much. I don't care.

"Yes, we are very excited. We're getting married in Florence," she says happily. "Anyways, Brinley, we'll let you be. Enjoy your time with your boy, will you?"

And with that, I finally get the chance to sleep. Very fast. I lay my head down and then it's all dark.

<•>•<•>

"Arriving at Florence," the driver says, stopping the bus and opening the door. "Thanks for ridin' with me this long way."

I take my bag quickly, hurrying out of the bus and away from all these people. Goodness, I never want to take a single step into a bus again. That was a nightmare. Every part of it.

And now I have to locate Owen's parents' house. I sigh, bringing a hand above my eyes to shield the light. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I begin walking up the road. I can't say how happy I am to find civilization and a nice one at that.

I think back to the directions given to me by Clarin. She's been here, apparently. In the middle of town, there's a large marketplace. Spot that. I walk a few streets over, looking for it. Oh gosh, this is going to take me ages.

I jog around the block, having to luck. I kick the rocks as I pass, getting frustrated with this whole idea. How can I possibly find Owen's house if I don't remember getting there the first time?

I move further. And then I see the marketplace. That's got to be the one, hasn't it?

Take a right on the corner where it's at, and then follow the road all the way up. It's in the cul de sac, a nice big red brick home. I should know it when I see it, I suppose.

So I take the road. All the way up. It is a long road, let me tell you. And somewhat uphill as well. I'm a sweaty mess right now who's living on about five hours of sleep. How attractive is that? Yes, not very attractive.

When I finally make it to the ending, I find the house hard to miss. It's huge. Probably three of my houses out together. The lawn is mowed, the windows have shutters. The pots have flowers. It's all beautiful.

I wonder what the yard looks like. I'm sure nobody will mind if I go have a look. I just can't imagine the size of this property. It must be gigantic!

I follow a little stone pathway around the back, eyes wide with awe. Everything is beautiful. There's a large pool on the side I walk across. Then there's a tennis court. And a huge lawn of green grass. I walk through the pool area to get over to where the grass is.

And then I stop dead in my tracks when I see them.

My heart stops beating.

Time slows to a complete and dead end.

Owen has his lips locked against another girl's.

She's got short brown hair, dark red lipstick on, and a very short black dress. And she's got her painted fingernails in my boyfriend's hair. They seem to be just fine and dandy.

And I'm staring. I think I should be crying about now. But no tears are forthcoming. Instead complete and utter rage takes its place. I can feel it running through me like adrenaline. I can feel it filling my chest and I'm going to explode.

I stomp over towards the two of them lounging out on the pavilion a good ten meters away from me. They're just going at it, unaware of me raging towards them.

"Really?!" I yell. Both heads turn my way. Owen looks shocked. That's the only word to describe the look on his face. It seems like he's seen a ghost. "Oh, that's fine, just ditch your girlfriend you confessed your love to. Go on, make out with a tramp. Go for it. I don't mind it one bit."

"Brinley-" he starts, but I'm already up to his level. An I slap him so hard my palm stings. He looks appalled. As he should.

"You are a backstabbing," I slap him, "lying," I punch him, "dirty," I knock my hand against his head, "cheat!"

I don't think the shock has actually gotten to me yet. When it does, I'll be crushed. Heartbroken. As I should be. But right now, all I want to do is beat the crap out of him.

"Everything you said, everything we've been through, everything," I let out a frustrated breath. "I cannot believe you would do this to me. I cannot believe it. I put so much faith in you. So much trust. And you throw it away just like that?"

"Do you-" he tries again, looking stunned.

"No," I point am angry finger at him. "Do you want to know how much trouble I took to get here? How much I wanted to meet your family? Hm, guess I get to meet this skank instead."

"Brinley! What..." I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn around, adrenaline coursing through me. I need to get this all out or I'm going to overflow with hatred and anger.

But what I see in front of me stops me from saying a word. I almost don't believe my eyes. What?

Owen stands in front of me.

I look back at the pavilion couch. Owen sits there as well.

What?

"What is this... What?" I feel so overwhelmed and I just look between the two of them for a long time, not knowing what to think. "Someone explain this to me now!"

"I'm Owen," the one behind me says, standing on the lawn. "That," he point to the other, "is my brother Ian."

"I don't understand," I shake my head. "Why...?"

Suddenly the real Owen looks very uncomfortable. He runs a hand through his hair and sighs a long and dreadful sigh.

"I haven't been completely honest with you," Owen says. "And neither has your family."