The Memory Book(23)

Maddie had left me alone, except briefly asking me to dinner, so I think I’m in the clear. As in, though my mom had told Pat about NPC before we left for the tournament, Pat had not told Maddie.

As in, to Maddie, the episode earlier was just a breakdown. The thing is—and, Future Sam, I have had some time to think this through while snotting on myself for the entire day—this was not a fluke meant for both Maddie and me. It was part of a bigger fluke. A huge, blank, stinking hand of cards that, if I’m not careful, will last the rest of my life. But that’s not Maddie’s fault. She deserves to know that none of this, in any way, was meant to happen to her.

And Christ, if humans supposedly know how time works, how can it be possible to blow four years of work in thirty seconds? It’s not fair. It’s not f*cking fair.





SERIOUSLY, FUCK THIS


I wish we were riding home in a limo—not for the glamour, but so Maddie and I could sit on opposite ends. I’m writing this with the screen facing away from Maddie, in the car home.

On the elevator ride down to the pool, I had rehearsed how I would tell her why I forgot everything, and that I was sorry, and if we could do it over again, I would not have even tried to go to the tournament. I would have let Alex Conway have my spot so that Maddie could have won.

I found her in the hot tub, wearing a sports bra and basketball shorts. Other debaters laughed and splashed one another across the room in the pool. I sat next to her and put my feet in the boiling water. My face felt crusted like a salt lick. Her face was red, too, and her hair was flat and slick. She didn’t speak.

“Well,” I said. “It’s over.”

She tried to smile at me. “Yeah. We did our best.”

I jumped on this. “Actually, no, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, it’s just…” Maddie’s face scrunched up, trying to keep her cool. “Now is not the best time. Can we not get into this?”

“Let me say one thing. Actually, a couple of things. You were amazing. I messed up.” I took a deep breath. “When we were talking the other night, before the tournament began—actually, before the party—I should have told you something really important that I found out about myself recently. Actually—god, I’m saying ‘actually’ a lot.”

“I’m going to pause you for a second,” Maddie said, her jaw clenched. “I’m requesting this as a friend. It’s nothing to do with you, okay? I let you be with your thoughts. Can you let me be with mine?”

“Yes, but this is something pertaining to why we lost—”

Maddie’s voice got louder, echoing around the pool. “I don’t care! You don’t care. People do things. Let’s just not care.”

I wasn’t sure what she was talking about. I was close to crying again, because I knew what she was saying wasn’t true. What about what we had said before we went to sleep that first night? I wanted her to acknowledge that, at least. “But we both wanted…”

“You don’t get what you want! You don’t always get what you want!” She was yelling now.

The debaters at the deep end giggled and looked over at us.

“What are you looking at?” Maddie yelled.

They grew quiet.

She got out of the hot tub and walked out, hitting the glass wall so hard it shook. My stomach felt like it had taken the punch. I stood and noticed a phone lighting up on one of the plastic tables. I picked it up, thinking it had been left behind. It was open to several texts.


Stacia: We need a break Stacia: We weren’t even serious Me: At least give me a reason. What did I do?

Stacia: Idk while you were away I had time to think Stacia: It’s not anything you did Stacia: I just need to be on my own



The phone was Maddie’s.





Some other key highlights of this four-hour car ride home, so far:

? Me saying I’m sorry about Stacia

? Maddie saying I don’t know what I’m talking about ? Maddie’s mom telling us not to snap at each other, that we had a stressful few days ? Me saying at least we got that far

? A deer running into the road

? Maddie saying she wishes she was a deer so she could get hit by a car and die ? Me telling her not to take death lightly ? Maddie telling me to stop being so intense for once in my life ? Maddie’s mom chastising both of us

? Maddie wishing she had never joined debate in the first place ? We got ice cream





TRUTH BOMBS


As we got about a half mile to my house, I was about to burst out crying again because as you know, when I had tried to tell Maddie about NPC she wouldn’t listen, so like any reasonable human being, I tried again.

The car was kind of quiet because Pat had turned down the radio so I could give her directions, and it was sort of peaceful just hearing the air-conditioning and watching the trees go by, SO SUE ME, I THOUGHT IT WAS A NICE MOMENT.

I said, “Maddie, I have a disease that makes me forget things. That’s why I blanked during the round.”

Maddie was silent, which I thought was a good thing, until I looked back at her from the front seat and she was staring straight ahead.

She said, “What.”

Pat sighed and I continued. “I was diagnosed with Niemann-Pick Type C, which is a degenerative brain disease. Me forgetting where I was—that’s a symptom of the disease.”