I stand to my feet, commanding my shaky legs to obey. “No,” I say. I can’t do this anymore. I’m not strong enough, as selfish as that sounds. I make my way toward the door. I’m grateful the doctor said I had to keep it short, because I need a reason to explain my running. My running away from the only thing that truly ever mattered in my life. “No, it isn’t just a job for you.” I turn my back to him completely so he can’t see the streams of tears that soak my face, and I shove them off and wipe them on the thighs of my jeans. “I’ll never forget everything you’ve done. Thank you for rescuing me, Ran.”
I slip through the door and don’t look back.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Two months later.
“I think you should consider it. Don’t analyze, just come. I promise it will be fun. I’ll be there, so obviously.”
I twirl the rubber tip of my pencil through my hair and it tangles in a knot. I try to yank it out, but it just pulls the twisted hair tighter. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I think you should stop thinking and just do it. I’m coming to pick you up at eight. You better be ready.”
“We’ll see.” I hang up before he has another opportunity to convince and manipulate me any further. I’m really not interested in putting up a fight. I don’t have the strength for it.
Cora peers over the top edge of some gossip magazine. Her pink gum snaps loudly in her mouth and the pages rustle as she flicks them down to make eye contact with me. “Was that Trav again?”
“Yeah,” I answer, annoyed at both of them right now. Annoyed at everyone, actually. I’m getting tired of people telling me what I should do, where I should go, and how I should live my life. I’ve been fine on my own for the past two months. I really don’t need their unsolicited guidance.
“You’ve made it clear that you’re going to do what you want either way, but I really think you should go.” She ducks her head back behind the magazine and slides further down onto her bed, crossing her ankles. “It’s time you saw him, Maggie.”
“I don’t want to.” The blank computer screen glowers at me. “I have to finish this sociology paper by Monday, and so far all I have to turn in is one blank, eight and a half by eleven sheet of parchment. Somehow I don’t think that’s going to go over well with Professor Dexton.”
“Screw Dexton.” Cora chucks her magazine at me and it lands just under my feet. The pages flutter like a fan. “And screw sociology.” She swings her legs over the edge of the bed. “You need to go tonight. Who knows, maybe you could turn it into some social experiment and twist it into a thesis for your paper. You know, like you could wear that perfume you used to practically bathe in and see if it triggers his memory. I think I remember hearing somewhere that your nose has something to do with the hippopotamus or something in your brain.”
“Hippocampus,” I correct, shoving her magazine under my desk with my toe. “And seriously? They actually let you go to school here?” I wall her off with my shoulder and hunker down into my desk.
“Whatever.” Cora pulls out her phone and begins punching across the screen. “Just because you’re suddenly taking all these biology courses and know all of this useless information doesn’t give you the right to make fun of me. I’m doing just fine with my Spanish major. Yo soy muy bien.”
“I think I would know that it wasn’t hippopotamus regardless of which classes I’m enrolled in.” I stare at the hazy screen. Cora’s right. I do have a lot of useless information inhabiting my brain, serving no real function or purpose. It’s not like the stuff I’ve committed to memory will aid me at all in my college courses. I need to stop researching things that I won’t be graded on. And I need to stop obsessing over information that serves absolutely no purpose in my life anymore. He’s not going to remember me. No amount of textbook memorization, studies on retrograde amnesia, or brain anatomy education will change that. It’s unfair to challenge someone to do something when they don’t have the capacity to actually do it. He said it himself. Ran