Unremembered (Unremembered #1)(21)

‘Yeah,’ he says, kicking the seat in front of him. ‘But I will admit that you’re not like the rest of them.’

This statement makes me feel happy and sad at the same time. ‘Why not?’

‘Well, for starters, none of the pretty girls I know can prove Goldbach’s conjecture. And . . . you know . . . you actually talk to me.’

‘So maybe then you shouldn’t be bitter at all pretty girls,’ I say.

He laughs. ‘You’re starting to sound like my mother.’

‘Is that good?’

‘It’s –’ he struggles – ‘complicated.’

I’m starting to wonder if there’s anything that isn’t.

‘What about you?’ he asks, finally facing me again. The scarlet tinge to his skin is gone.

‘What about me?’

He digs a bottle of water out of his backpack and unscrews the cap. ‘Think you had a boyfriend back home? You know, before your memory went all MIA.’ He takes a sip.

I consider the question, attempting to translate the term boyfriend. ‘You mean a male lover?’ I ask.

Water sprays from his mouth, a few droplets landing on me. A woman across the aisle gives us a contemptuous look.

‘Sure,’ he replies, when he finally stops laughing. ‘A male lover. Did you have one of those?’

I think about the locket tucked away in the top drawer of my dresser.

‘I’m the one who gave it to you.’

I shake my head. ‘I don’t remember.’

‘I’m sure you had several,’ he affirms with a nod and another sip of water. This time it stays in his mouth.

‘I doubt it,’ I say, closing my eyes and resting my head against the seat.

‘Well, then, in that case, you’re probably better off.’

My eyes open again in surprise. ‘Why?’

He shrugs. ‘Not that I have any experience in the matter, but from what I’ve heard love’s a total bitch.’

‘A what?’

‘A pain in the butt,’ he rephrases, and then upon seeing my still-confused expression, he tries a third time. ‘A real drag. You know, like up and down and back and forth. “I love him, no, I hate him, no I love him again but I think he really likes Claire. Can you please, please ask him for me.” I don’t know, it sounds like a total waste of time to me.’

‘Yeah,’ I agree wholeheartedly, trying to ignore the warm tingle that has started glowing in the centre of my forehead. ‘Definitely not for me.’





14


CONFIRMATION


From the station in downtown Los Angeles, we take a bus to the airport. Cody has navigated the entire journey using his cellphone, further increasing my longing to acquire one of my own.

When we arrive, he asks, ‘So what now? Do you like have a plan or something?’

I don’t really. I glance around, hoping something will feel the slightest bit familiar. It doesn’t. I’m not sure why I keep thinking that eventually something will trigger a response – a memory – when so far nothing has. ‘I guess I just wanted to talk to anyone who might have seen me get on the plane.’

Cody’s forehead crinkles. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, I was supposedly on Freedom Airlines flight 121 to Tokyo. And I want to authenticate that.’

‘Whoa, whoa,’ he says, hoisting both hands in the air. ‘You’re telling me you dragged me all the way here to confirm something that the news has already confirmed a thousand times?’

The sidewalk is crowded. People come and go, lugging large bags behind them. I pull the brim of my borrowed cap further down my face.

‘How do I know they’re telling the truth?’ I ask Cody.

‘What makes you think they’re not?’

I consider telling Cody about the reporter in the crowd and the boy at the supermarket. About the things he said. ‘You were never on that plane and you know it.’ But I decide it’s not something I want to repeat yet. At least not until I have more evidence.

‘It’s just a feeling,’ I tell him. ‘There are still things that don’t add up. Why was I not on the passenger manifest?’

This doesn’t appear to concern Cody. ‘My dad said it was a computer glitch.’

‘What if it wasn’t?’ I challenge. ‘What if they’re lying?’

Cody takes a moment to ponder this. ‘Why would they lie about that? If anything they would lie and say that you were on the manifest. To cover their own corporate butts.’

I can’t decipher that phrase but I let it go. ‘I just need to know for sure.’

He hikes his backpack up his shoulder and breathes a heavy sigh. ‘Fine. Let’s go see if we can find someone to talk to.’

We enter through a set of automatic doors and stand in line at the international ticket counter for Freedom Airlines. I recognize the logo on the wall. It’s the same one that was on the piece of plane debris that I watched being pulled from the ocean. I half expect myself to shudder upon seeing it up close, but I don’t.

When we get to the front of the line, a woman beckons us forward from behind the counter. I follow Cody as he approaches her, keeping my eyes downcast.