Don’t Look Back

chapter four

Jumping off the bed, I raced into the hallway and smacked right into my brother.

“Whoa!” Scott grabbed my shoulders, steadying me before I toppled over. He grinned. “Slow down.”

I gasped as I stared up at him, trying to catch my breath. “There’s … there’s this …”

The grin faded from his face. “There’s what, Sam?” When I didn’t answer, he shook me gently. “What are you trying to say?”

Snapping out of my panic, I pulled free from his grasp. “There’s a note under my pillow!”

“What?” He brushed past me, heading for my bedroom.

I trailed behind him, stopping at the door as he approached my bed and picked up the note as if it were a venomous snake.

“‘Don’t look back. You won’t like what you find.’ Are you shitting me?” He turned, holding the letter up. “Who’s been up here, Sam?”

“I don’t know. No one that I know …” I stopped. I didn’t know anyone.

“Maybe one of your friends roamed off or something?”

A horrible thought struck me. “My … my friends stopped over this morning. A couple of them left the kitchen to use the bathroom.” I frowned. “Veronica left, like, three times.”

“They were the only ones in the house.” A muscle ticked in his jaw as he stared at the childish writing. “This looks … I don’t know. It had to be one of them.”

I didn’t like the sound of that. They were supposed to be my friends, and even though I didn’t remember them, I didn’t want to believe one of them had left that note. “But based on that theory, you’ve been home, too. You could’ve done it.”

He rolled his eyes. “Good point, but come on. It’s a stupid joke.” Stalking to the desk, he balled the paper up.

“What are you doing?” I moved to intercept him, but he tossed it in the trash. “Why did you throw it away? It’s … like, evidence.”

“Evidence? Someone is messing with you.” He folded his arms, scowling. “And I’d be more than willing to bet that it’s one of your stupid friends.”

“My friends aren’t stupid.”

He cocked his head to the side. “You don’t remember your friends.”

“Good point.” I plopped down on the edge of my bed. “But why would someone leave a note like that? I mean, it isn’t funny. It’s … it’s more like a warning.”

Scott hesitated. “Sam … it’s a joke.”

I glanced at the trash bin. It didn’t feel like a joke. A shiver rolled through me. From my perspective, it was a clear warning. A threat, a voice whispered in the back of my mind.

“Look, you’ve been through a lot.” Scott cleared his throat, looking away when I turned to him. “I honestly can’t even imagine how it feels to not have a freaking clue who you are, but don’t let those girls mess with you.”

“I’m not.” I felt the need to defend myself.

“And I really don’t think you should tell Mom and Dad about this. They’d freak and never let you out of this house.”

Ah, damn it. He had another good point. “But what if one of those girls knows what happened? Cassie is still missing and—”

“And what, Sam? You’re going to question them based on a note you found? Hold them down and demand answers?”

I folded my arms. “Maybe.”

Shaking his head, he headed for the door. “Let it go, Sam. It’s a joke. And honestly, when it comes to Cassie, out of sight, out of mind.”

Twisting around, I stared at him. “What do you mean?”

His jaw worked. “All I am saying is that … thank god it’s not a nice person who’s gone missing. Like Julie.”

“Julie?”

Scott sighed. “My girlfriend—you used to be friends with her, but she wore the color purple on the wrong day or some bullshit like that.”

“I wouldn’t have stopped being friends with someone because they wore the color purple on the wrong day!”

He arched a brow and a moment passed. “Anyway, Cassie was worse … worse than you. And that’s saying something. You became a different person when you started hanging out with her. Most of the people who knew her … they’re probably glad she’s gone. Including her friends.”

My brother’s words haunted me the rest of Saturday and into Sunday. It was one thing finding out you acted like a total bitch to most people, but to discover that your missing best friend was just as bad was overwhelming. If we were such douches, why did people even bother looking for us?

“Fear and popularity go hand in hand,” I muttered, turning off my hair dryer.

I froze, staring at my reflection. Where in the hell had that come from? The Bitches’ Handbook to High School Survival? Leaning forward, I dabbed on some lip gloss and took a deep breath.

This would not be awkward.

Leaving the bathroom, I grabbed the shiny new phone Dad had picked up the night before. My old one was wherever my memories were.

This would not be awkward.

I slid the photo of Cassie and me into a back pocket of my übertight jeans and headed downstairs. My pulse was all over the place. I was going to meet Del today—my boyfriend.

This was going to be so awkward.

I wandered around the massive rooms downstairs, ending up in the pantry on three different routes, until my mom yelled my name.

He was here.

All thoughts of the strange note I’d found vanished as I slowly made my way back to the foyer, which could’ve housed a small tribe. Stopping just outside the archway, I peeked around the corner.

Del stood beside my mom. Taller than her but not as tall as Carson, I realized. He was lanky, had artfully messy brown hair with faint blond highlights. His skin was tan, eyes the color of milk chocolate. He was handsome. Not bad at all, I thought. The V-neck sweater he wore was rolled up to his elbows, revealing powerful forearms. His hands were shoved into his faded jeans.

“Sammy,” he said. Del had a megawatt smile, the kind on celebrity magazines—perfect, too perfect. He glanced at my mom, who nodded, and then started toward me. “I am so happy to see you, babe. You have no idea.”

I froze.

His expression washed out, and I felt like I was being thrown out of the room and into a weird time loop. Everything went gray and white.

Del was pleading with me, begging with his eyes as he was coming forward. Desperation poured from him, but he was also angry—so very angry. My heart was pounding as rage swelled inside me, matching and overshadowing his anger.

Gasping, I blinked and took a step back. The look—the vision—was gone. I didn’t know if it was a memory or if I was just seeing things.

“You okay, Sammy?” Del asked, stopping short.

I felt dizzy. Mom had that look on her face, the same from the day before. Pained. Worried.

“I’m okay.”

The smile returned to Del’s face, and he crossed the remaining distance, sweeping his arms around me and lifting me up. A sliver of panic clawed its way through me as he held me tight against him. My fingers dug into his shoulders, and I desperately tried to find something familiar in his suffocating embrace.

Del made a deep sound in his throat as he buried his head in my hair. “Damn it, Sammy, don’t you ever scare me like that again.”

I couldn’t respond or breathe. My thoughts were on a loop. I don’t know you. I don’t know you. Over and over … I don’t know you.

When he put me down, I had to fight the urge to run away. Over his shoulder, my mom watched us, squeezing the gold around her wrists.

The front door opened behind her, and my brother strolled in. Sweat plastered his hair to his cheeks. An iPod hung from his fingers. Behind him was Carson. My chest did a weird leap, and I stepped back, tripping over my own feet.

Del caught my arm, steadying me with a rich laugh. “You’re so jumpy.”

“I wonder why,” muttered Scott, eyeing us.

Carson had his baseball cap pulled down low, shielding his extraordinary eyes. All I could see was the tight-lipped smile he gave my mom. “Hey, Del,” Carson said.

Del gave him a curt nod.

“Boys, why don’t you go down to the basement?” Mom shooed them toward the stairs. “I don’t care what you sweat on down there.”

My gaze was fixed on Carson, even as Del dropped an arm around my shoulders. Scott bumped his best friend as they shuffled past us. I lowered my eyes, unable to shake the feeling I’d been caught doing something bad.

“Carson, can you tell your father I need to see him first thing Monday morning?” Mom’s voice carried through the large house. “The trees around the pool house need to be cut back. …”

Del laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t know why your brother hangs out with Carson.”

I lifted my head, frowning. “I guess he likes him.”

“They have nothing in common.” Del took my hand, leading me through the archway toward the small rec room that I liked. Maybe I had liked that room before, and he knew that. Hope sparked. He sent a devilish grin over his shoulder.

I started to smile back, thinking I liked his grin.

“Has Carson been hanging around here a lot?” he asked, pulling me down on the couch beside him, holding my hand.

“I really don’t know.” I glanced down at our joined hands. His was so much larger. “He was here on Friday, but …”

“You don’t remember. Right.” He squeezed my hand. “I keep forgetting that. Oh, I almost forgot this.” He let go of my hand and stood, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a tiny, flat blue box. “I wanted to give this back to you.”

“Back to me?” I took the gift box, sliding my finger under the lid.

“Yeah, you … you left it at my place before you … well, before everything happened.” He looked away, swallowing. “I put it back in the box for you.”

Removing the lid, I picked up the piece of cotton. A silver chain peeked out, and at the end was a crooked heart. Tiffany’s. I knew a damn Tiffany’s box when I saw one, but I didn’t know the boy who’d given it to me. “I’ve worn this?”

Del nodded, taking the box and setting it aside. “Nothing about this necklace seems familiar?”

I shook my head. “Why did I take it off?”

His lashes lowered, shielding his eyes. A long second passed before he responded. “You wanted … to take a shower.”

“Why did I want to take a shower at your place?”

Del’s brows pinched, and a flush stained his cheeks. “You didn’t want to go back to your house without showering, because we’d …”

My gaze dropped to the heart, and understanding slowly crept in. “We’ve had … sex?”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose and nodded.

Heat swept over my cheeks and down my neck. We’d had sex, and I didn’t even remember. “Was that my first time?”

Del shook his head, blowing a little breath. “No. We’ve been dating for several years, Sammy.”

I wasn’t sure what was worse: having this epically awkward conversation or not even remembering my first time with him. Hands shaking, I clasped the silver chain around my neck. The slight weight felt unbearably heavy for some reason. A tide of frustration rolled over me, itching under my skin. How could I not remember any of this? Tears built behind my eyes, and the urge to run kicked me in the stomach again.

“It’s okay.” Del forced a smile. “Your parents warned me that you wouldn’t remember anything. And you don’t, right? Not even the night you disappeared?”

My knees felt weak as I stood. “I don’t remember anything. I had to ask my mom yesterday when my birthday was.” I let out a choked laugh as I faced him. “The doctor says I might get my memories back, though.”

He shifted on the couch, his eyes deepening until they were almost as dark as his pupils. “Is there anything I can do to help?” His voice turned serious. “Because I’ve always had your back, Sammy, and I always will.”

I frowned, thinking that was a strange way to put things.

“Anything?” he prodded again.

Doubtful. But as I stared at him longer, I realized that maybe he could. “I saw you the night I disappeared?” When he nodded, excitement hummed like that rapid beat of hummingbird wings. This was a start. “What were we doing besides …?”

“It was late Saturday night, and we were just hanging out and talking. Among other things,” he added with a grin, “we were watching old videos of my baseball games.”

Stimulating. “Do you know when I left?”

“It was around nine. I wanted us to go hang out with Trey, but you got this text.”

“Wait. Who’s Trey?”

Del leaned back, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. I didn’t even have to remember my mom to know she’d freak if she saw that. “Trey is a good friend of mine. He was Cassie’s boyfriend, but they broke up a few days before … she went missing.”

“She had a boyfriend?” I sat beside him, eager to learn more.

He nodded. “They fought. A lot. Their arguments were pretty much a source of entertainment to everyone.”

“Did we fight?”

“No. Never,” he said quickly. “We had—have a perfect relationship.” He leaned over, brushing his lips over my cheek. “Just like our parents.”

Warning bells went off. From what I’d seen, my parents did not have a perfect relationship. Since I came … came home, I hadn’t even seen them touch or even be in the same room together longer than a few minutes. I fiddled with the silver heart. “So … I got a text, and I left?”

“Yeah.” He sat back. Disappointment pulled at his lips, and I felt as if I’d done something wrong. “I think it was from Cassie, but you didn’t say. You left my house mad.”

“Mad at Cassie?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. You and Cassie had this—”

“Rivalry? That’s what my brother said.”

“He’s not lying. Cassie … wow, how do I say this without sounding like a dick?” He exhaled slowly. “Cassie wanted to be like you. She always has. In her eyes, you had it all. She copied everything you did. If you didn’t like someone, she didn’t like them. If you wanted someone, she wanted them. Everyone knew it.”

I arched a brow. “Okay …”

“I’m not trying to talk bad about her—especially under the circumstances. God, she could be dead.” He saw me wince and immediately apologized. “Sorry, but you know what I mean. Cassie caused problems. Even with us.”

“I thought we didn’t fight.” Unease started to form hard little balls in my stomach.

He looked away. “We didn’t fight fight. Like I said, I have your back. But sometimes Cassie could be … inappropriate when you weren’t around.”

“What do you mean?”

His gaze flicked to mine, then focused on the massive deer head on the wall. “She’d come on to me, even though we were together and Trey’s my bud.”

I expected to feel a rush of jealousy, but I felt nothing. “Did you like Cassie?”

Surprise shone on his face. “Yeah, I mean, she could be cool.” And then his eyes narrowed and lips thinned. “Why are you asking?”

My mouth opened, but nothing came out. I had this impression of having asked the same question before, only with a lot more emotion behind it. Anger was there. Disappointment, too. But there was nothing else attached to those emotions. It was as if my feelings were balloons floating away with nothing to tether them down.

I shrugged. “You just sound like you didn’t like her. I don’t think Scott liked her, either.”

“Cassie could be hard to get along with.” He shifted closer, placing a hand on my bent knee. Instantly, my muscles locked up. “I don’t know what happened the night you two disappeared. I don’t even know if you guys were really even together. And I don’t want to talk about her. I want to talk about us.”

“Us?” I squeaked.

He held his free hand out to me. “Come here.”

My pulse shot way up, and I didn’t want to come here. But he was waiting with this patient smile on his handsome face, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. This had to be hard for him. I was his girlfriend, and I couldn’t recall a single detail about him or our relationship. I scooted over until my legs were pressed against his.

His hand found the back of my neck, guiding my head to his chest. He let out a ragged sigh, brushing his lips over my forehead. “I really didn’t think I was going to be able to do this again. It’s like getting a second chance.”

“It is?” I whispered, confused.

“Yeah.” He pressed a kiss on my temple.

We spent the entire afternoon talking, which helped me get to know him again. Evidently, we had started dating at the beginning of freshman year and, according to Del, all my friends were jealous. Our fathers were in business together, working in Philadelphia while our mothers stayed at home. Supposedly, there was this huge deal between our fathers’ businesses. Something to do with stock trade and company transfer—nothing I knew anything about.

We spent the holidays each year in the Catskills with our families and summers on various vacations. Last year, we were prom king and queen, and the two of us were expected to win again this year—something Del was proud of. At school, we left when we wanted to, ate lunch off campus, and skipped classes together, and no one apparently stopped us. Yale was in our future, and I got this feeling that people expected us to stay together. As in forever. Second- or third-generation rich kids, like royalty. That was what it seemed like to me.

There was this whole life with him that I was completely detached from. Even though I tried as hard as I could, I couldn’t see or feel any of it. So I let him talk about himself, which he excelled at. He played shortstop on the high school baseball team and was on his second BMW, and his favorite team was the Yankees. At home, he had an entire floor to himself. No brothers or sisters. There were a couple of cousins and a grandfather who had run one of the largest stock-trading firms in New York.

“Our dads could buy and sell this town,” he said, twirling a strand of my hair around his finger. “Well, your mom could, actually.”

“Why?” I said, probably for the hundredth time.

“Money is on my dad’s side of the family,” he explained proudly. “And it’s on your mom’s side. Her family invested in the railroad before it took off or something. She’s not a billionaire, nowhere close to the kind of capital my father brings in, but she’s old money.”

I struggled to not roll my eyes. “Do you know what my dad did before he met my mom?”

He shrugged. “He went to Yale, obviously, on a scholarship. I think his mom was a schoolteacher and his dad a construction worker. Both of them passed away a few years back. Sorry.”

I took a moment to mull over the dead grandparents I had no recollection of. That sucked. “Well, I guess he got lucky when he met Mom.”

“Hells yeah, he was.” Del laughed. “He didn’t have anything before he met her. Her father got him in the business. If it wasn’t for your mom, I’m not sure how far your dad would’ve gotten. But my dad was groomed to run the firm—just like I am.” He kissed my cheek again. “And my son will be.”

My eyes widened. His son? Blech. I felt nauseated, allergic to the very idea.

There was a lull in the conversation, and my arm was tingling from being squeezed between our bodies. I briefly considered telling him about the note I’d found but decided against it. “What did I like?”

Del pulled his head back, searching my eyes. “Besides me?”

Okay, not funny. With narrowed eyes, I nodded.

“You like to shop.” Del laughed, running his fingers over my cheek. “Your favorite drink is anything fruity mixed with vodka. You’re a hell of a girl to party with. You’re wild.” This time, when he leaned in, his lips met mine. The kiss was brief. “Okay, usually a lot wilder than that.”

“Sorry.” I flushed. “What I meant was, did I have any hobbies?”

Confusion flickered in his eyes. “Does shopping count as a hobby?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You always liked to visit the old battlefield area,” he said after a few moments. “You used to go with that chick Julie, and you guys would spend all day there. I think you had a thing for history. Or maybe just the macabre.”

Wow. The only nonshallow thing I did was hang out in a giant graveyard with a girl who wasn’t even my friend anymore. I was really beginning to hate myself. Del talked about the upcoming baseball season for a little while, bitching about Carson’s throwing arm. He was the pitcher, and there was no love between them.

When my mom stopped in and asked if Del would be joining us for dinner, he politely refused. Family was in town. Before he left, I pulled out the picture in my pocket and showed it to him. “Do you know where this was taken?”

Del stared at the picture for several seconds, then turned away. A distant look crept into his eyes, hardening them. “It was actually a couple of months ago, on New Year’s Eve. You guys were freezing in those dresses. Hot, but freezing.” He gave a short laugh. “We were in Philly. You passed out before midnight.”

The more I heard about myself, the more I wanted to slam my head into the coffee table. “Who was with us?”

“Trey, but he passed out, too.”

“So that left just you and Cassie?”

His lips thinned. “Yeah, that night sucked.”

What was strange to me was that he sounded like he couldn’t stand Cassie, but the three or four of us obviously hung out a lot. Did he tolerate her because she was my friend? I sighed. “I wish I could remember something. She’s still out there, and I feel like I’m the only person who can find her.”

Del pulled his arm away and stood. “This is going to sound cruel, but she’s not your problem right now.”

Damn, that was cruel. “But—”

“But you need to focus on getting better and moving on with your life.” He ran a hand through his hair, frowning. “I think it’s best if you just let it go for right now. People are looking for her. You need to take care of yourself.”

My gaze fell to the picture of me and Cassie. I’d thought we looked so happy in this picture, like real best friends, but the more I studied it, the more I saw—the razor-sharp edge to our smiles, the coldness in our near-identical features.

Everyone wanted me to forget about her, to move on. As if this girl wasn’t missing. Like she never existed in the first place. And as I ran my thumb over her side of the picture, I realized I couldn’t do that. Just like I couldn’t be the person I was before. That Samantha was still missing, stuck wherever Cassie was, and maybe she would’ve been able to let Cassie drop, but I couldn’t.