Chapter Forty Two

Aspen


I've been back at the Jones's house, or I guess *my* house, for three days. Absolutely *nothing* is familiar to me, accept for my belongings. Apparently, we've lived here for a few months, and it bothers me that I have no memories of anyone or anything besides my mom, and those were from before moving here.

"Aspen?" A girl says, sticking her blonde head into my bedroom, "Hey, your mom said that I could come on up." She's cute, and she's smiling kindly at me, but I don't know who she is. A redheaded girl named Cheyenne has come by several times, but I can't remember her either. And then, another girl, Brooke? Brookie? Brooklyn? Something like that, came by to visit yesterday and also she was sweet, I just don't remember her. She said that we go to school together and were just getting to know one another before my accident.

*I wish I could remember.*

Everyone has been kind and understanding, almost to the point that I feel like I need to walk around on eggshells. I feel like everyone has expectations and I'm terrified that I'm going to let them down.

As the blonde girl makes her way into my room, I take her in, trying to recall anything about her, but nothing.

"How are you feeling?" She asks as she sits down on my bed next to me and begins wiping her hands on the thighs of her jeans.

Shrugging my shoulders, I look down and begin picking at my comforter. *Isn't that the million dollar question? I have no idea how I'm doing. How can I when I can't remember anything? I mean physically, I'm recovering, but mentally and emotionally? I feel like I'm both everywhere and nowhere.* "I don't even know how to answer that." I murmur, then look up at her, biting my bottom lip and hoping that I don't offend her or hurt her feelings, "I'm sorry...but, what's your name?"

"So, it's true?" she says, instead of answering my question, "You really have no memory from since before you moved here?" Shaking my head *no*, her face falls and compassion takes over her features, "That must be so hard. I'm Raleigh. Lincoln and I are kind of seeing each other, but we kind of hit it off also and I think we were on our way to becoming friends."

"Really?" I ask, "I'm sorry. I really wish I could remember." I tell her honestly. Not only do I have a hole in my memory, but it makes me feel like there is a large who in *me*, or maybe in my heart? I don't know how to explain it, but I just feel incomplete. I know it doesn't make any sense.

"I bet Boston is going nuts." She says with a twinkle in her eye.

"Boston?" I ask, confused, *I mean, he's been really cool, supportive, but why would he care?* Instead of asking the question that's at the tip of my tongue, instead I say, "He's been patient, understanding, just like everyone else."

"He seems like a great guy." she mutters, picking at a piece of invisible lint on my comforter.

"I guess," I tell her, shrugging, "I wouldn't really know."

"Oh, right. No memory." She mutters with a nod of her head and an awkward smile.

"Sorry that this is so awkward..." I tell her, shrugging, but not knowing what else to say.

"It's fine, really," she says, clearly thinking something over, "it would be kind of cool to get a chance to start over with getting to know people, especially if you didn't have a very good start with someone."

"I mean, I guess." I tell her, not having really thought of it like that, but then why would I? No one is telling me anything, at least, not really. Or at least nothing that would be of importance. "I just feel like I'm going to let everyone down." I tell her on a sigh.

"Why would you think that?" she asks, seeming perplexed.

"Well, everyone already has these memories of me and with me, leading to everyone having this set of expectations..."

"And you're afraid that you're not going to measure up," she surmises, finishing my sentence for me.

I nod in confirmation, "I know it's stupid. No one has given me any reason to feel that way, I just do."

"So, there's absolutely nothing?" She asks, turning to face me more and bringing her right foot up to the bed, wrapping her arm around her leg and resting her chin against her knee. "No random images that don't make sense, or dreams, nothing?"

*To be honest, there have been glimpses of intimate moments that make absolutely no sense to me, but I can't mention them because if they are memories, then—no! I don't even want to think about that.*

I shake my head, not wanting to lie to her. How can I when I don't really know what it is that I've had glimpses of? "Did I have a boyfriend?" I ask instead.

"Umm..." she says with a grimace, "that's not really my story to tell...I'm sorry."

I nod in understanding, and tell her, "I understand," giving her a smile, enjoying getting to talk with her even though it is stilted and awkward.

"What can you tell me about Lincoln?" I ask her, hoping to maybe glean a different perspective on one of my new brothers.

Mentioning him makes her smile. It's a cute, shy smile. "We've only been dating for just over a month, had just started dating shortly before your accident. But, he is amazing, and damn, the things he does to me... " She says this, but then immediately her eyes get big, and she covers her mouth with both hands, "I'm sorry, is that weird? I mean, he's your brother."

Her reaction causes me to chuckle, because really, I don't see him or any of the boys as brothers. They are basically strangers. To be considered a brother, they would have to be someone that I've grown up with, know everything about, share memories with. The only person that I have that type of a relationship with is my mom.

"They're not really my brothers, though now are they?" I say, smirking at her. My answer, and likely my tone of voice, causes her to giggle, and it's this cute, tinkling sound that just makes you smile.

"Hey, girls," one of the boys says, wrapping his knuckles on the door while sticking his head in, "dinner's ready." As he speaks, he glances at Raleigh, but then his attention turns to me, and the look he gives me is one that I don't understand.

It's like he's begging me to remember something.

*But remember what?*

"We'll be right down." I tell him, confusion filling me at what the look could mean.

"Bye, Boston." She says, clueing me in to which brother it was. I haven't hardly spent any time with any of them, but mom said that he and I were really close. Maybe, I should spend more time with him, and it could help spark my memory.

*Unless—No! I seriously* can't *go there. Right?*

When I look back at Raleigh after he leaves, she has a sad look on her face. "What is it? What’s wrong?" I ask her, wondering what the look now on her face means.

"It's nothing," she mutters quietly, "I just—," she starts to say something but stops herself with a loud sigh, "I hope you get your memories back soon."

"Me too." I tell her honestly. "Well," I say changing to subject with a big smile, "are you ready to go down and eat?"

"Absolutely, your mom said she was making lasagna and I am starving." As she speaks, my stomach starts growling with the mention of one of my favorite pasta dishes.

"You don't have to tell me twice," I tell her, getting up from the bed and making my way towards my bedroom door, "I can't remember the last time I had lasagna." At this we both crack up laughing and still unable to get our laughter under control as we head down the stairs and towards the dining room.

"At least you able to find humor out of your current situation," she says when she finally gets her laughter under control.

"I'm trying," I tell her, watching as she takes a seat next to Lincoln. Everyone else is already seated and the only space left is between two of the boys. I take the open seat and glance at the one two my right, and make a guess that it's Boston, as he's giving me the same look as the one that he gave me earlier, and then the boy to my left, who gives me friendly smile.

"Looks great, Ashlynn," the boy to my left says, turning his attention to my mom.

"Thank you, Jackson. It's one of Aspen's favorites," mom pastes on a sad smile as she glances at me, and then at the rest of the faces at the table.

"I remember," I tell her, wanting to see a genuine smile on her face, instead of the sad one she's wore since I woke up.

"Y—you do?" She says, her face brightening up, "do you remember anything else?"

"Maybe...I'm not sure," I say, glancing at the boy that I think is Boston, and then ask him, "We were close...right?"

He swallows thickly before nodding his head yes.

"How close, exactly?"

"Maybe this isn't a conversation for the table..." Collin says before Boston or anyone else can answer my question.

"Why not?" Mom asks, looking over at her husband and then back at me, then to Boston, who suddenly has turned completely white, then back to me again. "What do you remember?"

*Screw it!* I decide, *I need answers, and if what I think, is true. I'm going to want witnesses.*

"How close were we Boston?" I ask, turning my attention to him, taking a deep breath and preparing myself for the truth that I may be fixing to hear. If what I fear is true, I no longer feel safe in this house.

"Where we really close? Or did it just seem that way because you forced yourself onto me?"