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“Running out in the street like that, dummy.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw and I settled back against the pillows. “And yousureyou lost your memory? I know Becca is annoying and you talked about breaking up, but you don’t have to fake memory loss to get out of that tragedy.”
And from angry back to funny. How didhekeep up with himself?
He’s trying to be happy. For me. The person who barely knows him.
“No, I’m not faking,” I told him. “I don’t remember anything, like I said. Except you…a little. I know who you are, but that’s where it stops.” By the time I finished my words, my face had morphed—from having an easy smile to one of complete seriousness. I wanted to tell Ralph. I wanted someone to share the burden of the hysteria with me.
“I’m glad you’re okay. You gave me the scare of my life, Dex. Not gonna lie, I might’ve shed a tear or two over your ass.” Ralph leaned back, the chair squeaking precariously. “How’s your aunt taking it? She looks better than she did last week.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know how she normally is.”
Ralph snorted, one hand settling on his knee, his other on top of his head.
“What?” I asked, not getting the joke.
“You complain about her and call her a pain in the ass, but she loves you. Look, I’m your best friend. If you need help remembering, I’m the guy for the job.” He glanced at the door before focusing on me again. “Let’s start with your relationship with Becca.”
“Do go on,” I said, eager to hear about what my new life looked like from the outside.
“Purely superficial. She’s cute, you’re bored. You’ve got three months in and you were starting to realize how annoying she is.” He reached over me for the snacks Ms. Andrews brought.
Ms. Andrews.
“What’s Ms. Andrews’ first name?” I couldn’t call her my aunt out loud. It was like committing myself to her. Part of me still hoped…I didn’t know what to hope for anymore. But this wasn’t it.
“Ha. Ms. Andrews. You call her Aunt Tracey. She’s in her late twenties. She’s a dental hygienist. You’ve lived with her going on six months now, and every day you guilt trip her to the point of tears.” He held up a bag of Cheetos. “And here she is, bringing you your favorite snacks.” He ripped the bag open and began munching.
“So, she isn’t naturally nervous. Just with me,” I said, thinking aloud.
“She’s actually pretty cool.” Ralph set the chips down, rubbing his hands against his jeans to get rid of the orange dust on his fingertips.
“All right, all right. I get it. I used to be an asshole.”
He lifted a brow at my words.
“Yes,usedto,” I repeated. “I’m trying to change. What better way than losing my memory?” Then, after my attempt at a joke, I said, “Tell me more about myself.”
“You’re not all that bad. You’re just grieving. You don’t know how tonotbe angry at her. After all, your parents died and she didn’t.” He said it matter-of-factly, like he’d said it before. Like we’d talked about this before.
“How’d they die?” I was more saddened by the absence of feeling any nostalgia toward the situation than by the situation itself. I was their legacy and now, that was ruined. I was using this body as a vessel, a body belonging to a boy they’d raised from birth and instilled their beliefs in. I could only hope that, wherever the real Dex was, he was happy and they were all together.
“Well, your family had the drugstore for years. One night, a couple of knuckleheads with a gun came in, tried to get your parents to give them all the money in the register. They refused.” He shrugged like he didn’t want to continue. Like I could make out the end result. “You were at my house at the time, and your aunt was on her way to help them close up. Your argument was that, had she gotten there on time, the doors would’ve been locked and they would’ve been on their way home by the time the intruders decided to stop in.”
I closed my eyes.
How sad. Everything about this life is sad.
“I’m guessing I made a point of telling her this,” I said, not bothering to open my eyes.
“From what she told me, I’m guessing that’s what you said before running in front of that car.”
I opened my eyes to witness the look on his face. But by the time I did, he was smirking at me, ready to take on the jokester role again.
“By the way, I’m pretty sure your parents taught you to look both ways. Basic traffic rules,” he said.
I shrugged. “Wouldn’t know.”
“Low blow, dude. Low blow.” He exhaled, running his hand over his buzz-cut hair. “So, what now?”
