Forgotten

Chapter One

Natalia

There are doctors. Lots and lots of doctors. They come into my hospital room, one after another, asking me the same questions. Do you have a headache? No. Are you dizzy? No. Do you think you fell and hit your head? No. Do you remember anything that happened? No. Are you sure? Yes.

They write on their charts, making notes of the things I tell them. They take my blood pressure and listen to my heart. They do tests and tests and more tests. Scans in big machines that make loud noises and make me feel claustrophobic. Needles that suck my blood into vials, which are then whisked off to the lab. At first, I’m scared. I hate doctors, and I hate hospitals. I didn’t even want to come here, but Cam insisted.

“Doctors aren’t going to be able to help me,” I told him a few hours ago. We were lying on the bed in his dad’s pool house, after Cam brought me in from the beach.

“Whatever happened to me obviously isn’t medical.”

“You don’t know that,” Cam said. He was holding me tightly in his arms, his hands stroking my hair. “Maybe you had some kind of seizure or something.”

“Right,” I said. “I just happened to have a seizure and now I don’t remember anything about what happened over the weekend, even though you’re telling me we were at some weird witch compound. Nice try, Cam.”

But he insisted that I see a doctor. And so now here we are, in the emergency wing of St. Joseph’s Hospital. After a couple hours of tests, I stopped being afraid. At least, I stopped being afraid of the tubes and the needles and the hospital smell. Now I’m more afraid that they’re not going to be able to figure out what’s wrong with me, that they’re not going to be able to fix it, that I’ve had some kind of spell put on me that won’t be able to be reversed.

“Cam,” I say. He’s over by the window of my hospital room, staring outside. His hands are in his pockets, and there’s a pensive look on his face. “What are you thinking about?”

He doesn’t answer. He’s been mostly quiet this whole time, holding my hand, only talking to ask me if I’m okay, if I have everything I need. He’s gone with me every time they had to wheel me out of the room for a new test, comforting me, telling me it’s going to be okay.

“Cam?”

“Yeah?” He turns around to face me, and his eyes are bloodshot, with dark circles underneath. He looks like he hasn’t slept in weeks.

“Are you – ”

But before I can finish, there’s a commotion in the hallway, the sound of voices and shoes squeaking on floor, and then, before I can process what’s happening, my mom comes bustling into my room.

“Natalia!” she says, immediately rushing over to my bed. Her hand reaches out and smooths my hair back from my face. “Oh, thank God! Why haven’t you been answering your cell phone?”

I almost laugh. According to Cam, my cell phone is gone, probably wrecked along with my mom’s car, or left in the woods somewhere. I’m not sure, since I don’t remember any of it.

“I lost my cell phone,” I say. “Didn’t Cam tell you?” Cam called my mom as soon as we got here, telling her I woke up not remembering anything, that he’d taken me to the emergency room, and that she should come immediately.

“You lost it?” She looks confused. “How did you lose it?”

“I don’t remember.”

She sits on the edge of my bed. “It’s okay,” she says soothingly. “Don’t worry about it. We can get you another cell phone.” I wonder how she’s going to feel when she realizes that her car is gone, too. A hundred dollar phone is one thing, a ten thousand dollar car is another.

“Hi, Ms. Moore,” Cam says. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“I am, too,” she says. But she’s not looking at him. “And now that I am, you can probably go.”

“Go?” Cam sounds confused. “Why would I go?”

“Now that I’m here,” my mom repeats. “You can leave. I’ll stay with Natalia.”

She straightens the sheet on my bed.

“No, Cam,” I say, starting to feel a little panicked at the thought of him leaving.

“I want you to stay.” I reach my hand out to him, and he crosses the room to the other side of my bed.

“Of course I’m going to stay,” he says, taking my hand. “I would never leave you.”

My mom gives a tight smile, then stands up and then heads over to the window, opening the blinds all the way. “Let’s get some light in here, shall we?” she says. Then she turns around. “So, who do I talk to about what’s going on? Where’s your doctor?”

“Dr. Palermo is the one who’s in charge,” I say. “He should be back soon. They gave me an MRI, and now they’re just waiting for the results to come back.” Cam’s still standing next to me, and I look up at him. I was feeling a little less scared, but bringing up the fact that I’m waiting for MRI results makes me nervous again. What if there’s something really wrong with me? He squeezes my hand, then kisses my forehead, and instantly I feel a little better.

“So what happened exactly?” my mom asks. “You woke up this morning and you couldn’t remember anything?”

“Yes,” I say. “I woke up on the beach, and I…I couldn’t remember anything from the weekend.”

“The beach?” she asks. “What beach?” She glances at Cam.

“The beach at Cam’s dad’s house,” I tell her. I can see her face tighten a little, like she’s annoyed that’s where I was. “We spent the night in the pool house, and then this morning, I …I woke up on the beach, and I couldn’t remember anything.”

“You and Cam were in the pool house?” my mom asks. “Where was Mr.

Elliott?”

“I’m not five, mom,” I say. Suddenly, I’m a little bit annoyed. Who cares where Cam’s dad was? I understand that she’s concerned, but come on. There are more important things going on right now than whether Cam and I were being supervised.

“No, I know.” She shakes her head, like she’s trying to let it go. “I just… if you were with Cam, then how did you end up on the beach?”

Cam and I glance at each other. The truth is, we don’t know. We’re not sure if I got up for some reason, or if someone came into the pool house and took me.

“We don’t know,” Cam says, “and I didn’t hear her get up. Or I would have never let her go by herself.”

“You two were in the same bed?” Her face tightens even more. But then she must decide that’s the least of her problems, because then she says, “Okay, so you woke up and went for a walk?”

“I don’t know, Mom,” I say. “The last thing I remember is being at the game on Saturday.”

She nods. “And then Cam found you? On the beach?” She brushes my hair away from my face again. Her hand feels cool and good. “Are you hurt?”

“No.” I shake my head. “There’s nothing physically wrong with me.” It’s a bit of a lie. I have small scratches all over my arms and legs, and a bigger one on my face.

But according to Cam, that’s from this weekend, when we were running through the woods. He has the same kind of marks.

My mom reaches her finger out and traces a line down the thin scratch on my left cheek. She opens her mouth, like she’s about to say something, but then she changes her mind.

“Well,” she says. “As soon as the doctor comes back in, we’ll figure out what’s going on.” She turns to Cam. “Campbell? Can I talk to you in the hall for a moment?”

“Sure,” Cam says.

She heads out of the room, and Cam follows her, turning back and giving me a

“what the fuck is this about?”
look as he leaves. I shrug, even though I know exactly what it’s about.

My mom’s worried about me, and she’s looking for someone to blame. And that someone is Cam.

Chapter Two

Campbell

I know Nat’s mom is going to be pissed, but when we get into the hallway, her face becomes a mask of rage and disgust.

“What did you do to my daughter?” Her voice is low and steady, but I can tell she’s struggling to repress her anger. Her jaw trembles a little as she talks.

“What did I do to your daughter?” I actually take a step back, that’s how shocked I am. “Ms. Moore, I didn’t do anything to her.”

Her fists are clenched at her sides, and she lifts a hand up and points a finger at me. “Natalia didn’t just wake up this morning with no memory. Someone did something to her.”

“I called you,” I say, and shake my head. “Why would I call you if I’d hurt her?”

“I don’t know.” Her gaze drifts to the floor, as if she’s lost her certainty.

“Nothing about this situation makes any sense. I don’t understand why she took off with you.” She sighs, then crosses her arms over her chest. “Do you understand how irresponsible you’ve been?”

“I’m sorry,” I say honestly. “I should have made her call you earlier.” This, at least, is true. I should have made Nat call her mom, keep her in the loop about things so that she didn’t freak out. Of course, I don’t know when we would have done that. I have a mental picture of asking Reed to stop the bond breaking ceremony so that we can call Nat’s mom and tell her we’re fine. We could have kept it short and sweet –
sorry, gotta
go, late for a movie!
It’s so absurd that I have to bite back a laugh.

Nat’s mom glares at me, and I quickly wipe the smile off my face.

“Where’s my car?” she asks.

“I don’t know.” I’m lying, and she knows it.

“What did you spend the last two days doing?” Her eyes are locked on mine again.

Obviously I can’t tell her the truth. But if she talks to my dad she’s going to know we weren’t with him the entire two days. I should have anticipated this -- of course Nat’s mom was going to have a ton of questions. But I’ve been consumed with getting help for Nat, not coming up with a cover story.

“Did the two of you have sex?” she asks before I can come up with a suitable lie.

“No!” I say quickly. “No, of course not.”

“Then what were you doing?”

“We went to a hotel…a motel near my dad’s place.”

“Why?”

“To get away. We’d been fighting. And stuff at school has been kind of weird with this girl Raine and some of her friends. It’s normal high school stuff, but it’s been hard on Nat.”

“Stop calling her Nat!” She shakes her head and pulls a crumpled up tissue out of her jacket pocket, then wipes her nose with it. “Her name is Natalia.”

“Listen,” I tell her. “I get that you’re upset. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry we just took off. I’m sure my mother’s pissed at me, too, she probably –“

Natalia’s mom laughs. “I have a hard time believing your mother is anything but drunk.”

Her words are like a punch in the stomach. My mom is what she is, and I know better than anyone how fucked up her drinking is. But I can’t stand other people bringing it up, acting like they know anything about my mom or our family. I want to say something nasty back to Nat’s mom, but I remind myself that she’s really upset and worried. All she knows is that her daughter disappeared with me and turned up again with some mysterious injuries, no memory, and no idea where her car is. “My mom has problems but she still cares about me, Ms. Moore,” I say quietly.

She purses her lips and nods. “I’m sure she does. And I’ll certainly want to talk to both of your parents before this is over. But right now I’m going to call the police.”

“What?
Why?”

“I want them to know about this situation.” She shoulders her purse. “I think the authorities ought to be made aware of it. And because, frankly Campbell, I don’t trust you.”

I sigh and my whole body feels deflated. I’m exhausted. Mentally, physically emotionally. The past forty-eight hours have been the worst and most stressful hours of my life.

“Fine. Call the cops.” I turn to go back into Natalia’s room.

“Please don’t go in there.”

“What?”

“I don’t want you near her. I’m her mother.”

My jaw tightens. “I’ve done nothing but try and protect her, and I don’t appreciate being treated like a criminal. You don’t know me.”

“Exactly. I don’t know you, but what I do know has not exactly inspired confidence. So please respect what I’m asking you to do. She’s still my child, she’s not eighteen, and I still make the rules.”

“You want me to go wait while you call the cops on me?” I ask incredulously.

“That would be nice.”

I laugh. “Great. Well, I’ll be in the cafeteria waiting to be interrogated.” I turn and walk off, my teeth grinding in fury. This lady has some nerve. Attacking me, insinuating that I hurt Natalia, talking trash about my mom. Who the hell does she think she is?

And now she’s bringing the police into it. Well, I’ve got nothing to hide.

Of course, that’s not exactly true, I realize, as I take the elevator down to the cafeteria. I’ve got a lot to hide, or at least a lot I can’t tell the police without fear of being thrown in an insane asylum.

***

The cafeteria is almost empty at this time of day. And there’s no hot food, just cold stuff like cereal, sandwiches, a few snacks and whatever’s in the vending machines.