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Authors: Ashley Royer

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The school day lasts longer than usual, and all I think about is Levi. I'm so worried
about how he reacted. Aiden and I didn't talk about it at lunch because I didn't
want to. I think Aiden feels bad about this whole thing, but it's not like it's his
fault. It's my own fault for being stupid enough to send Aiden the wrong version.

I messed everything up.

Even at work, I can't stop thinking about Levi.

Then I think I see him walk in, even though I know he doesn't have an appointment
today. I do a double take, because I thought I was just imagining it. But he is in
fact here.

He shyly waves to me, which surprises me. I wave back, and he smiles a little. He
crashes into a boy with purple hair, and I can't help but laugh. He nervously bites
his lip and walks over to me.

He types something on his phone and passes it across the counter for me to read.
He's asking if he can see Candace.

“I don't think she's with anyone right now, I'll go check,” I tell him. As I expected,
Candace is just sitting at her desk doing paperwork.

“Hi, Delilah. What can I help you with?” she asks in her cheery tone.

“Levi Harrison is here. He wants to know if he can see you.”

“Sure, I don't see why not,” she says.

I get Levi, and he walks into the room. I wonder if he's here to talk about my project.

I doubt it. That would be extremely awkward if he was.

Levi probably doesn't even think about me like I think about him. He definitely doesn't.

While I'm lost in thought, the boy with purple hair comes up to the counter, anxiously
tapping his hand against his leg.

“Can you— Where's the-the bathroom?” he says, stuttering.

“Right down the hall,” I tell him, smiling.

“Th-thank you,” he whispers, running in the direction of the bathroom.

I recognize him from school; he's new. I've definitely seen him before—it'd be hard
to forget someone with hair that color. I don't notice him much though, since he's
pretty quiet.

He's gone for a long time, and I wonder if he got lost. But he comes back, and is
called in to his appointment. I find out his name is Mitchell.

To keep my mind off Levi, I think of what Mitchell's actual hair color might be.

About forty-five minutes later, Levi comes out of Candace's room. I notice that his
eyes are red and his face is blotchy. He's definitely been crying.

“Levi, are you okay?” I whisper. There's no one in the waiting room but us right
now.

He quickly shakes his head. He doesn't look me in the eyes, like he always does when
he's nervous. He rubs his eyes, which makes them even redder than they already are.

“Do you need anything?” I ask him, even though I'm not sure what he'd even need.

He shakes his head and starts to leave. I debate making sure he'll be all right,
but I know he will. He's Levi. He'll be fine without me, like he's made clear multiple
times.

For the rest of the night, Levi's sad expression replays over and over in my mind.
I can't help but think he really might have needed me.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

LEVI

F
or the past three days, I've barely done anything but sleep. When I'm awake, I'm
just overcome with sadness and confusion. By sleeping, I don't feel.

I keep thinking about the past few days and all the stuff that's happened. I feel
like everything is slowly getting more confusing for me as time goes on. I feel so
conflicted about what has happened in my life. I don't know what to think about
anything anymore.

Everything is a mess.

I check my phone for the time, and I look at the phone icon, which shows one new
voice mail. Except it's not new. It's been there for eight months.

I've never listened to it.

The last time I saw Candace, she told me I should listen to it. She said it might
make me feel better. I haven't been able to press play. I'm scared of what it is.

I think I'm scared of moving on too. I feel like if I listen to it, it will feel
like I'm losing the last piece of Delia that I have.

I don't want to lose her.

The voice mail is from the night of the incident.

Delia didn't actually die instantly. I just tell people that so I don't have to think
about the fact she was alive for a while after the accident.

So I don't have to feel so guilty.

She called me before surgery.

The time on the voice mail says 11:33 pm. She died at 5:04 am.

Her contact name still has emojis after it. Her contact picture is still the same.

It's possibly the only thing in my life that hasn't changed.

One simple voice mail can hold a lot of meaning.

I try not to think about the day of the accident too much, but now that I am, the
whole day comes flooding back into my mind. I remember every detail vividly. Sometimes
I think that if I don't remember it, maybe it's not true. Maybe it didn't actually
happen. But I know that's impossible, and I can't reverse time.

It's the one thing I wish I could forget the most, but I can't.

“You need to move on,” Caleb tells me.

“I don't want to,” I mumble.

“Clearly, she's moved on. She doesn't seem fazed by the breakup at all.”

“That makes me feel so much better,” I groan.

“Well, it's been two weeks . . .”

“It's been two weeks of an almost year-long relationship!”

My phone vibrates, and it's a text from Delia.

I'm on my way to your house. I need to talk to you.

“She's on her way over!” I tell Caleb, jumping off the couch. “Do I look okay? I
haven't showered!”

“You need to chill. It's Delia. If she liked you last year, she'll like you now.”

“What do you think she wants to tell me? You don't think she wants to get back together,
do you?”

Caleb shrugs. “I dunno. Maybe she just wants to tell you that you need to stop obsessing
over her.”

“I'm not obsessed.”

“Yes, you are, actually. You've liked her since the day you first saw her.”

A few minutes pass of me anxiously waiting, and Caleb continuously telling me not
to get my hopes up. Delia doesn't show up even though she
lives close by. We figure
she's stuck in traffic. A half hour goes by. We hear sirens, lots of them.

“Something bad must have happened,” Caleb says, going to look out the window. “It's
somewhere down there,” he says, pointing to his right.

I start to get nervous. “That's the way Delia would have come,” I say quietly.

“It's definitely not her, don't worry. Whatever happened is probably keeping her
from coming down the street.”

“Right, that makes sense.” But something doesn't feel right. Delia would have texted
to tell me she's stuck in traffic.

Or, she would have when we were together. Now, I'm not so sure.

Caleb goes home after an hour. I stay awake. I figure Delia decided not to come.
What she had to tell me probably wasn't that important. I fall asleep shortly after.

I'm woken up by my mum shaking my shoulders gently.

“Levi,” she whispers.

“What time is it?” I murmur.

“It's midnight. Delia's been in an accident.”

It takes a few seconds for my mum's words to sink in. At first, I think I heard her
wrong. But then I remember the sirens.

“What? Where? We need to go to the hospital, I have to see her,” I yell, getting
out of bed.

“She's in surgery right now. We can go and wait, if you want.”

“I want to. I need to see her,” I say.

I run out of my room, not bothering to change out of my pajamas. I grab things that
I know Delia would like, to make her happy when she sees me. Even though she probably
doesn't want to see me, I want to see her. All my anger and sadness over the breakup
turns into nervousness in wondering what happened to her.

The drive to the hospital feels like it takes forever. Every minute that passes feels
like an hour. I nervously tap the window and watch the rain fall.

When we get there, my mum goes up to the counter to ask where Delia is. I see Delia's
parents in the waiting room and run over to them.

“Is she okay?” I ask the second I get there.

“We don't know,” her dad says. Both of them have been crying, and they look exhausted.

“Where is she right now?” I ask.

“She's still in surgery. She has some head trauma and internal bleeding.”

I'm shocked by the news; I definitely wasn't expecting that. I thought maybe a few
cuts and bruises, not something so major.

“When will she be out?” I ask frantically.

Her mum shrugs. “We didn't even know she was out driving,” she chokes out.

I'm hit with the realization that she snuck out to come see me. She was driving to
see me. This is because of me.

I don't tell them that she was on her way to my house.

I sit in one of the chairs, overcome with anxiety. Nobody talks much, we all just
sit there. My mum tries to calm me down, but I can't relax.

Another hour goes by before a doctor comes out. Delia's parents stand up abruptly.

“Her surgery is over. There were some minor complications, but as far as we can tell
she will heal well, and you have nothing to be concerned over. She is still coming
out of anesthesia, but we anticipate she should be conscious soon,” the doctor tells
us.

“Can we see her?” I ask quietly.

“Family only.”

The doctors bring Delia's parents to her room. I watch them walk down the hall and
turn down the corridor. I wish I was down there too.

“Why don't we go home and come back in the morning? Get some rest, maybe,” my mum
tells me.

“I want to stay here. I want to be here when she wakes up. I can't leave her.”

I'm trying not to cry. I need to see her. I can't stand waiting. I bounce my leg
anxiously and bite my nails.

“She'll be fine, I promise,” my mum says.

“But how do you know?”

My mum says nothing.

Delia's dad comes out when police officers show up. They explain that they were investigating
the accident. I overhear them saying they looked at Delia's phone, suspecting that
could have been a cause of the accident, as it is for a lot of people. The screen
had a text that said “be there in” but it was never finished.

It was addressed to a boy named Levi.

“No, no, no, no,” I whisper once I hear my name. I break down sobbing in the middle
of the waiting room. A doctor comes over and asks if I'm all right.

My mum answers for me and says I'm fine.

But I'm not fine.

I'm the reason Delia got in an accident. I'm the reason she's in this hospital.

She shouldn't have even been driving alone. She wasn't fully licensed; she wouldn't
be for a year. We lived so close, Delia probably thought it would be okay. But it
wasn't.

“I can't be here right now,” I tell my mum, leaving the waiting room quickly.

She follows me down the hall, calling my name. She reaches out for me, but I push
her away.

“Just get away!” I scream. “I need to be alone right now.”

I walk through the silent corridors of the hospital and pass by rooms with sleeping
patients. I've always hated hospitals. I hate the sanitary smell, I hate the depressing
colors, I hate the pictures that line the walls.

I end up sitting down in the middle of the hallway, crying uncontrollably. I can't
seem to stop.

“Excuse me, is everything okay?” I hear someone ask.

“I'm fine,” I manage to say.

I hear the person walk away.

At some point, my mum finds me. Everything seems to be going by in a blur. I don't
know how much time has passed.

“They're moving her to ICU,” my mum tells me, sitting down beside me on the floor.

“Why?” I say in a barely audible whisper. I can't look her in the eyes.

“Her condition is worsening.”

“Can I see her yet?” I beg.

My mum shakes her head no. It looks like she's been crying too.

I can't remember the last time I cried this much. I feel like I've been crying for
years. I feel like my whole world is crashing down around me.

We head back to the waiting room, which seems even quieter than before. A nurse walks
over to us, and I get hopeful that I can finally see Delia.

“Are you Levi?” she asks me.

I nod quickly.

“I was with Delia before her surgery. She asked if she could make one call, I think
it was to you.”

“What?” I ask, confused. She chose me to call? I don't know how to respond. “Did
you hear what she said? I don't have my phone, I left it at home,” I say. I can't
believe I left it at home.

She shakes her head. “I think you need to hear it for yourself. I'm sorry.”

All I keep hearing tonight is “I'm sorry.”

She walks away, leaving me wondering. I debate going home just to get my phone, but
I don't. I can't leave. I have to stay here.

Delia's parents come and go between the waiting room and Delia's room. They're sent
out whenever something happens. They've been in the waiting room for a while with
no signs of any doctors, which is starting to worry me.

BOOK: Remember to Forget, Revised and Expanded
12.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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