Page 41 of Don’t Forget Me

He shook his head and examined the paper below him. “Sounds like a real Blackthorn House Academy teacher.”

I watched intently as his deep blue gaze scanned the problems and questions printed on the page. It was the same look he gave me when we were having a conversation, since the first night that we met. As if he had been studying me, watching me, trying to understand me.

Knowing that, I didn’t know what to think about it. Did I want him to understand me?

“Okay,” he said quietly.

“You can help me?” I asked.

“Of course I will. We’re going to start with this question right here.”

We spent the rest of the evening going over the math problems. Most times, I would get the answers wrong, but he was patient. He taught me how to find the right answers until he confirmed that I could solve the problems on my own. I heard him faintly sigh whenever I would repeatedly get it wrong, but his patience never ran out. Instead, he joked and explained it again.

It was a completely different experience from what I had been accustomed to. Mario would yell at me, pound at the table, and insult me whenever I couldn’t solve a math problem. Perhaps that was where my hatred toward the subject came from. Ill memories had been so deeply rooted in my mind that I couldn’t bring myself to love mathematics.

Instead, I spent the entire night laughing. At first, with anxiety when I realized I had gotten an answer wrong, but happy when he would jest and make me feel better about not understanding the problem set.

As if he had been unweaving all the rotten recollections of my childhood.

twenty

LYSANDRA

“Come on, it’ll be fun!” Camille exclaimed, squeezing my hands. We’d been standing under the bridge of Edinburgh Castle. Its looming structure was set ahead, enchanting me with its neoclassical tones. It was one of those sightseeing days that we had scheduled in our calendars to take a break from the frustrations of our adulthood.

But the views had become rather bland when she mentioned a party at Ezra’s apartment. Zack had given her an invitation to celebrate the new successful deals with Blue Tower Productions, my book included. So Long, Scotland was being celebrated by the people who inspired it, and I didn’t mean that in a positive manner.

Zack and Ezra were the ones who ripped me to shreds five years ago. Ezra, specifically. I never cared much for his friend until I realized how much he was influencing Ezra's antics.

“I’m not going,” I replied.

“It’s your book that is being honored tonight,” Camille argued.

My crimson heels clicked beneath me, along with Camille’s snake print boots. It was Saturday morning, the blue skies above shone with a golden blanket encompassing it. I breathed in, enjoying the smell of rain and the sound of crinkling orange leaves.

“Not just mine, but also other authors that signed with the company. No one will notice my absence.”

“Ezra will,” Camille replied, giving me a sharp, narrowing glance. “And there’s going to be several journalists invited for the first hour of the party, which means they will be hoping to get insights on the deals that were signed with the authors. Which means, you are required to be present.”

“I only trust one journalist.”

“Yeah, well, your cousin is in New York and not Edinburgh. So the ones invited by the production company will do.” She poked my shoulder as we walked closely together, our arms entwined with each other. Nonetheless, I rolled my eyes when I realized that she wasn’t requesting me to make an appearance at the festivity, but rather, ordering me to go.

“Why did you ask if you knew you were going to have to force me to go?”

“I tried to be cordial about it, but you’re just not helping yourself. It’s like you love to see people beg for you.”

“What girl doesn’t?” I questioned with a smirk.

“You are evil, Guerrera,” Camille sighed. I shifted my focus to her; she seemed to be pondering on something before her face lit up. “We need to find you a dress that will make Ezra drool when he sets his eyes on you.”

I chuckled. “I have a hunch that he is the real reason as to why you want me to go.”

“Of course! The guy deserves to hurt the same way he hurt you. And our form of revenge will be a gorgeous dress”

“And Zack doesn’t deserve a bit of this revenge too?” I questioned.

“Z-Zack will get his punishment as well,” she stuttered.