• -1a month later

    The same lady who led me down the hallways thousands of times before wasn’t there. I almost felt sad at her disappearance. I always thought of her as a sign that our lives would remain constant, and our friendship the same. But then again, it was another signal. Nothing would be the same. Our friendship was ruined. And it was definitely my fault.

    Even Jami’s parents put up a happy facade when they saw me. They thought I did it on purpose, or that I didn’t care enough. As if I had faked our friendship for the years we knew each other.

    And it’s too hard to put into words. It’s too hard to just say, “I’m sorry.” All I can do, is show it, in little gestures. And suffer. Suffer because she’s not there at my side.

    Jami Rebecca Tanner is, and has been in a coma for the past month. And it’s all my frickin’ fault.

    I looked around the corner, afraid to see the people who had called me their son. Before all this happened, of course. Now, I hated to be in front of them. They were still kind to me, but it was easy to feel their disappointment and regret.

    They weren’t there and slowly, I approached the bed. Her head was swathed in bandages, but it was a start. Last week, the cut on her head healed, leaving new, clean skin. Each time I came, I touched her face. Then I set down whatever I brought, and then I sat and watched her. Watched her until visiting hours were over. Until I didn’t have the energy to keep my eyes open. Then, I would sleep at her side, until someone came in and kicked me out. Already, the wrong type of person found me and I have two probations. But what the hell do I care?

    I almost killed the girl I love. There’s no excuse. I’m sure of it now. I really do love her. I’d marry her, if it weren’t for the fact that she was in a coma.

    A Year Later

    I pulled myself out of bed. Once again, I was struck by the starkness of the walls. The starched, untouched, cold look to everything around me. It scared me. I wanted my old room. My old house. My old relationships. My old Jami. She hasn’t talked to me in a year. Half of it was because of the coma, the other half was by choice.

    My sleep was so messed up. I had recurring images of the crash. I really wish that I was still talking to her.

    I moved here last month. A way to get out. I dropped out of that school, because everyone hated me. No one stood up for me, or cleared up the rumors. One jock, Tyler Lee, gave me a sympathetic look and made one feeble attempt, but it was something.

    I take it her parents told her what happened. However, I also take it they haven’t told her what happened to me. There’s no way I can forgive myself, so in a way, I’m happy I don’t have to confront her. Like I said, it’s been a year. Maybe I’ve gotten over it…

    Oh-kay… There’s no way I‘ve gotten over it. It took me a year to be able to say I have to myself. And that just took me two seconds to realize how stupid I‘m being.

    Jami’s POV

    I haven’t been alive for the past seven months.

    Alive (adj): Animated or active, especially full of busy activity or a sense of excitement

    Earth to anyone, I was the “dead” body lying on the bed. Excitement much?

    2) Still interesting, relevant, or vividly imaginable for people in the present day.

    Need I say more?

    For the most of it, I had been lying in a bed with no consciousness of what was happening around me.

    Now, I was able to move. But most of my muscles were dead. No matter how much training I did, I wouldn’t get back to good shape for another year. I don’t remember anything that happened to me. My last memory is when I was ten. Fifth grade. I remember the first time I began music and dance. The dance I dropped soon after, but my last memory was one where I was still playing drums. It’s how I met Jake.

    Jake…that’s still a sad thought. As soon as I woke, my parents told me what happened. They spared me the gory, scientific details, but told me that Jake tried to hurt me. I don’t know what to believe. There’s someone named Jake, who was supposedly my best friend, but all of a sudden, my parents seem to be working hard to convince me that he tried killing me.

    I feel bad for this Jake. But I figure that if it were myself, I might as well save myself from anymore injury. I want to remember. I want to know what happened that made me the way I am. And, more or less, I want to know what I missed. What have I forgotten, that I promised myself to treasure always?

    And have I broken those promises?

    Today, I looked up in the phonebook a Jake Green. I got four different numbers. I got it right on the second try…I think. Here’s the conversation:

    Me: Hello?

    JG: Yes? Who is this?

    Me: Jami Tanner. Does this name mean anything to you?

    JG: silence

    And if it did?

    Me: If you did, could you please tell me?

    JG: Why should I?

    Me: It would help my life out a lot more if you did.

    JG: How would it?

    Me: I’m not quite sure. But I know that someone named Jake Green was Jami’s best friend at one point. My- I mean, her parents told her that he tried to kill her, but Jami said she doesn’t believe that. So now, it’s my mission to find out what he was like.

    JG: Silence for a few minutes

    I’m sorry. I don’t want to remember anything about her.

    Me: I froze Thanks, Jake.

    I could afford to be informal. This was my best friend.

    I heard him rattle out a sigh, and hang up immediately.

    I held the receiver for a few more moments before putting it down carefully, so that it didn’t make any sound. Then I went upstairs, and threw myself on the bed. I was tired after that kind of exercise.

    I woke up at 3:17. I fixed myself a sandwich and then walked out to the garage. I stood there for a second.

    Did I drive?

    I stared at the white sedan parked there, and no feeling of euphoria came of me. Maybe I don’t drive.

    I walked back into the house. Mom’s back was to me as she cooked.

    “Mom?” She jumped and shivered. Then, she turned around to me, clutching her finger. It was welling with blood and a few dropped to the ground. I pulled off a paper towel from the roll and threw it over the small puddles before straightening and taking a band-aid from the shelf. I tossed it to her, and then leaned against the counter, catching my breath. I felt slightly bad about scaring her.

    The growing spot of muted crimson kept growing on the paper towel. It attracted me for unknown reasons. I stared at it, until Mom picked it up with her bandaged finger and tossed it in the open trash can.

    She turned to me. “Jami.”

    As if I forgot my name. “Is that me? You are my mom?”

    As predicted, she freaked out. “You don’t know your name now?!” She began wringing her hands.

    I grinned. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’m okay. I need to ask a favor.”

    As predicted, she was too happy and relieved to deny me. “Yeah! Sure. Anything, dear.”

    “I want to go to Jake Green’s house.”

    As predicted, her smile disappeared.

    Jake’s POV

    I got a call from Her. Today. At 8:30 ish. I had just found a pair of jeans. I had been searching for the last hour. But when she did call, I got scared. My throat constricted. It was her. It had to be. I wouldn’t have called myself her best friend if I couldn’t even tell what she sounded like.

    She wasn’t confused. And she didn’t sound like herself, personality-wise. But it was her. And she asked for me. She wanted to know about our past friendship. I couldn’t find it in myself to even tell her it was me.

    I lied. And hung up.

    I slept pretty well that night.

    Jami’s POV

    As soon as I found him, life got brighter. And now, Mom was going to drive me to his house. She was going to hang outside, but was allowing me to stay as long as I wanted.

    It took us just under five minutes to pull up to his house. The entire time, I was watching wide-eyed through the window like some idiotic dog. Ick. At least I didn’t slobber all over the windows. Once outside, I felt nervousness flee. It was like I was home. Not at my house, but Home.

    I was welcomed by a pretty, small lady. She opened the door and nearly fainted. I caught her, at the cost of me nearly falling over.

    I sat on the ground, her head on my lap. After another awkward moment of silence, she woke, and stood. She nearly closed the door on me, but I said, “Hey. Uhh…Mrs…? I want to see Jake Green.”

    She turned around, and for the moment where she stared at me, I thought she was about to faint again. But she picked her head up again and then nodded to me, casting a sharp glance at the car on the curb where my mother’s car was parked. I followed it, with a small wave to convince my mother I was okay. She reclined her seat, but didn’t lie back even after I disappeared in the threshold. The door closed shut behind me, and suddenly, the nervousness I had shoved down was difficult to manage. I stumbled over to the couch and leaned against the back of it, breathing hard.

    Mrs. Green didn’t help. She just muttered, “You’re lucky he’s here today.”

    Oh yeah. He moved. Stupid.

    I had imagined this going differently. I was going to be prepared, my hands sweat-free, and my mind working completely. When Jake answered the door, I would take one look at him and say, “I forgive you. No matter what you’ve heard.” And then, with tears in his eyes, he would sweep my off my feet, and we would cry together. And then, in a rush of more emotion, I would remember everything. I wanted so badly to remember.

    But here I was, struggling to stay conscious. After a few moments, I regained enough breath and enough consciousness to see that a guy had come down the stairs. Mrs. Green left already.

    Jake?

    “Jami?”

    Yes. I guess it was him. That was the voice from the phone call.

    I grinned weakly. “Hey, Jake.”

    The corners of his mouth pulled down in a slight frown. “Please don’t act like you know me.”

    I paused. “I don’t. But I’m not acting. I feel like I belong here.”

    I guess that was the wrong thing to say, but I had nearly fainted. Give me a break.

    He shook his head. “That doesn’t count as a legit excuse. You proved that. You didn’t seem to care.”

    I looked at him. “I was in a coma for six months. I still don’t remember anything. It was my idea to come here. And it was my parents who didn’t want me talking to you.” I backed away step-by-step. I stopped when I felt the cold tile of the entryway under my feet.

    “If you didn’t care about that, then why would you get so angry. I know that if my best friend was in a coma, I would want them back as soon as possible. Sorry to bother you, yeah? Please forgive me.” I glared at him, before pulling open the door and walking back to the car.

    By the time I actually reached the car, my anger was leaving me. I was pretty emotionless post-coma. “Mom. I’m going to walk home. Thanks for driving me.”

    She frowned, a crease appearing on her synthetic-tanned forehead. “Are you sure, dear? Why don’t I drive you home, and then you can walk around the yard, where your father and I can watch you?”

    I shook my head. “Mother, I want to just walk home. Leave me alone.”

    She looked like she was about to argue, but then, she clamped her mouth shut. I found humor in her difficulty in shutting up, but I kept a straight, tired face.

    I watched her pull away from the curb and turn around, back towards our neighborhood, and then I began walking in the opposite direction. My memory served me enough to show me the way to the nearest ice cream parlor and mall.

    I sat there for an hour, playing with my melting bowl of ice cream. The gumdrop faces on the clown head were now under his neck. I threw it away without eating anything, then began my walk home. I had walked for ten minutes when I turned and saw my mom’s car pulling up behind me.

    I felt irritation building up. So what if it was Autumn and the temperature dropped below the sixties? I had asked to be alone. I turned away and began walking faster.

    Stupid me.

    My mom easily pulled up alongside and kept pace. She spoke, “Where were you!? We got worried sick! It doesn’t take and hour and a half to walk back to the house. Get in.”

    I sighed but chose not to argue and climbed in.

    I didn’t listen to her rant. When we got, home, she sent me to my room, but I gladly went. I was tired anyways.

    Jake’s POV

    I had hoped she was going to show up at my door. But not like that. And once again it was my fault. I had the chance to show her how much I had cared, and I threw it away just because I was too far into shock. I said I hoped she would come, I didn’t think she would.

    She was different. More in control. She was unsure of herself, but I could see that she thought through everything before they happened. We were both changing.

    I had watched the door as she left, and then pulled on my jacket. I stomped out into the yard, the clear, crisp air clearing my mind and body.

    Nature had that affect on me now. It was the only thing that slowed me down since the accident. I had moved into the city, my apartment located right between an industrial neighborhood, and a school. That’s the main reason I came back to my old house so often. Mom would’ve said it was because I missed them. I just nodded, for her sake.

    I walked back into the town. It was slightly bigger than the kind of town where everyone knew everyone. I said hi to a few people every so often, and then walked up to the ice cream store.

    I froze.

    She was right there. Sitting with her back towards the door.

    I took a minute to take her in. Her hair was shorter now, almost a boy’s cut. She must’ve been out when they did it, she would never have let them go near her head with scissors. Then, she turned her head and looked out the window. Her face was still the same, her profile more defined without her long hair to soften her features. Then, all of a sudden, she glanced around, and I flinched, realizing how stupid I must look.

    I backed out slowly, ignoring the looks that the customers gave me. I couldn’t talk to her. Obviously. I turned around and walked back towards the entrance of the mall. I sat at the bench until I saw her leave, then went into the parlor. Immediately, I sat down in her seat. It was still warm, and my cheeks got hot. I ordered my ice cream, and paid for it, overlooking the blushing waiter when he asked if she was my crush.

    Was it that obvious?

    I went home after that. Mom was sleeping on the couch, she did seem tired when I came downstairs thirty minutes before. The sight of her lying comfortably and peacefully made me tired.

    I slept well. Better than usual. At least I didn’t have that nightmare.

    Morning

    I woke up at 5. It was dark out, but would lighten soon. The morning was my favorite time of day…when I was up for it. Yesterday was far too exciting, I had to get up early. I peeked into my parents room to see if either of them were up. Nope. My dad was shivering without a blanket on and my mom had everything. I laughed, and dug in the closest for a comforter for him. I kissed my mom on the head, and then crept back out into the hallway.

    For the first time since the accident, a photo caught my eye. It was sepia, giving it that rustic, old-time charm. But I wouldn’t have cared if it was burnt and smoking, the image was the most important part.

    Me and Jami. Jami and Me. Happy. Together.

    Unheard of. I pulled it down and twisted the wire on the back around my finger. It was rusted, and made a small incision right on my knuckle, but I forgot about it, and instead took it with me outside. My car was on the curb, leaves had already covered the window in splashes of red and orange and I swept them off distractedly. I sat down in the passenger seat, my feet still sticking out of the car. Slowly, they began to freeze, and my breath kept fogging up the glass picture frame. I wiped it away, still staring at it.

    I guess in most stories, this would be the point where I realized my mistake, and I would go rushing over to her house, sweep her off her feet, and kiss her passionately, not caring who was there, or what they thought.

    But that part came later. For the most part, I sat there for a really long time, until my blood froze, and an immediate scab was formed. I slid the frame on the dashboard, and walked back into the house to dress. Fifteen minutes later, I came back out, my jacket on and a cup of coffee in my hand. I sipped cautiously at it, and set it on the hood of the car. I rested my arms on the cold roof, and watched emotionless across the street, where signs of life were beginning.

    The wife woke, I could barely hear the sounds of her alarm clock. Five minutes later, she appeared downstairs, in the dining room window with a cup of coffee.

    I raised my own, and then made a silent toast. I would be lying if I said I never imagined Jami and I leading a life like that together.

    Soon, her husband appeared, dressed for work and a piece of toast in his hand. I stood there a while, and then left a few minutes after the husband did. The last image I saw was the wife comforting the baby in her arms.

    I drove on. And this time, like most stories go, it was to the house of my long-lost love.

    Jami’s POV

    I woke up to the sounds of my mother pounding on the door.

    Her nasally voice drove through my aching head, “Dammit! Jami! Get up right now!”

    I sighed and pulled myself out of bed. I guess the special treatment I got as a post-coma victim was over after a few weeks. I opened the door, and she saw my tired face. Instantly, the frown dropped off her face and she groaned. “Just get your a** downstairs.”

    She MUST be mad. She’s never sworn in front of me before. I got dressed slowly, and then walked downstairs. Eventually, I ended up at the breakfast table, staring down at my plate. My bagel was starting to get soggy and the cream cheese seemed to germinate green mold.

    I looked up at my parents. Their faces were peaceful, but the tension in the air was stifling. And put my head down on the table and a short sniffle from my mother made me look back up.

    “Well…are you going to tell me something?” my voice startled them.

    My dad opened his eyes. They were red and bloodshot. “Jami…We know that you want to find out more about the life you led, but you have to tell us what you‘re looking for. We’ll help. We’re your parents.”

    I sighed and said, “I know that. But I want to find out for myself. Do you get it?”

    I couldn’t help the note of exasperation and doubt that crept into my voice.

    My dad picked it up and he groaned. “Yes. I know…it’s gonna be hard. But your mother just wants you to know that we really want to help, and that we’re always here for you. So please, let us know what‘s going on. Okay?”

    I nodded; they sighed in relief. I stood up, and walked out the door.

    Jake’s POV

    I pulled up outside of the house. There was a lone figure walking down the street. Reminded me of myself and I tore my gaze away so I didn’t become depressed. Standing up, I sipped my coffee as I walked to the front door.

    I knocked.

    Jami’s mother appeared in the window. A few seconds later, I could hear the door being unlocked. She appeared in the threshold dressed to go outside. She gaze me a dirty look.

    “What do you want here, Jake?”

    “I want to talk to Jami. Is she here?”

    She grinned, wildly. “No. She’s not.” Only then, did I notice the slight puffiness of her eyes and the redness. She looked like she didn‘t get any sleep. “My little girl is gone. Gone. Gone.” Her voice trailed off.

    I was getting spooked. “Uhh…thank you. I’ll come back later.”

    She snapped back to reality, only to lecture me. “No! I don’t want your type coming around here anymore. Jami was in a coma for the past half a year. Leave her alone already!”

    I stood there like an idiot, my mouth hanging open, until she coughed and I remembered where I was. I tried a different tactic. “Mrs. Tanner, all I want is a chance to have a person like Jami as my friend.”

    She glared at me. “All I want is my daughter to remember her life, and since you were the one who ruined it, I don’t want to see you.”

    I hid my shock and decided to appeal to her. “But…But what if I’m the only one who can bring her memory back?” Her face froze in a image of disbelief, as if it was taboo for mentioning such a thing. I continued anyways, “Maybe since I was the one who was with her at the time of the accident, I have to be there with her.” I stopped.

    She slowly nodded. “That would make sense. But my daughter…” her eyes welled up at this point, “she’s the only thing my father and I have. I want to die before her, and during those few months, I nearly lost my mind. I thought she was gone for good! Now she doesn’t even talk to me. I am not going through that again, do you hear me?”

    Ah. So she remembered I’m here. I nodded. “I’ll take care of her, ma’am.”

    She just tiredly waved and backed into the house, pushing the door shut with one hand.

    “Whoa! Wait!” She paused.

    “What, Jake?”

    “Where is she?”

    “I don’t know…she left a minute after you came.”

    I frowned, and got a face full of door. Grimacing, I turned around, looking at the ground as I walked back to my car. I opened my door and sat down. My gaze followed that figure, still walking along the street. He was ten houses down, still walking slowly, in place among the tranquility. After he crossed the street, I started the engine. The neighborhood was quiet, people didn’t even seem to be up yet. I went slowly along the streets, she couldn’t have gotten far. We were only talking a couple minutes.

    I braked. There was a slight screech. The kid turned around. Jami. It was her.

    She wasn’t the same, her walk wasn’t the same. Hell, I thought she was a guy just now. I didn’t even notice it yesterday. I halted next to her. “Get in,” and as a safety measure, I added, “please.”

    She looked at me and then away. Not angrily or haughtily, but more on the sad, nonchalant side. Then, something clicked and she turned a sharp, even gaze on me. “But my mother. She won’t accept my talking to you.”

    I shook my head. “I wouldn’t have even dared come to your house if your mother totally hated me.” Sure, it was a slight exaggeration, but exaggerations worked in times like these.

    She looked a me a long time, and then smiled slightly. “Fine.” She got in. Suddenly, I felt fear trickle up my spine. Six months ago. One car accident.

    “Wait. Get out.” She looked at me oddly, but didn’t question. She stood outside the door patiently, watching me. A few moments passed before I was back to my normal self. I sighed. This was going to be difficult. I couldn’t even drive for fear of hurting her again. I pulled myself out of the car and looked across at her from over the hood. “I can’t drive.”

    Her answer came back fast. “Why not?”

    “I’m afraid of hurting you.” I held my breath unconsciously as I waited for her response.

    She grinned. “I’m touched, but you’re a idiot if you give your heart away that fast.” That sounded like something old Jami would have said.

    I smiled weakly. “I’ve known you for most of your life. Trust me. It’s not too hard.”

    Her smile vanished, and on her face, there appeared traces of a blush.

    Deep down, deep, deep down, I was smiling for both of us.

    Jami’s POV

    He was sweet. I had to give him that.

    I nodded to him, and then plopped down in the seat. This much excitement wasn’t good for me.

    A minute later, he sat down too. Both of out doors were still open, and our feet hung out of them. I didn’t tell him to drive. We sat in comfortable silence until I took a glance at him. His face was turning pale.

    “Oh! Geez! Are you alright?!” I scrambled around the car, and kneeled on the ground. My jeans could handle the asphalt. I cupped his face in my hands, and winced from the contact.

    He was cold. I shivered and pushed his legs into the car, shutting the door before scrambling into my seat. The car slowly warmed up, and I began rubbing his hands. After a few minutes, his face got back some color and he shrugged me off him as soon as he realized I was touching his face.

    “Once again something is my fault,” he spoke bitterly.

    I just laughed. “Don’t worry. I like taking care of you.”

    “I don’t want you taking care of me. I’m supposed to take care of you. I’m the guy. I’m supposed to be strong. I’m NOT supposed to sit here and do stupid things.”

    I looked at him for a few milliseconds. Then,

    I fainted.

    Jake’s POV

    This was more like it. I sat in the same car, reviving her. Although, I would rather have proved my loyalty in other ways, rather than reviving her from a faint. It was a struggle to keep the memory of the accident away from my mind.

    I sat there an hour, wondering what she fainted for.

    Another few minutes passed.

    She woke all of a sudden. I was still wide awake and I felt her head move in my lap. I looked down at her, and saw her silver eyes clear from the fog.

    I was speechless. She must’ve taken my silence for a welcome to talk.

    The first thing she said?

    “I remember you.”