Remember to Forget, Revised and Expanded (2 page)

I ball my hands into fists, my knuckles turning white. Caleb knew and didn't tell
me? I look over at him, my glare venomous.

“Look, Levi,” he says, turning down the street, “I want my best friend back. And
I know this whole thing sucks, but nothing has helped so far. This might, okay?”

I sigh and look out the window, watching the rain slide down the smooth glass. I
wonder what it's like to be a raindrop. I bet they pretend to race down the windows.
I wonder if their life only lasts a few seconds, and if they die once they hit the
ground.

I wish I were a raindrop. I bet they don't worry.

Caleb continues to talk about stuff, but I zone out. I block out his talking all
the time, and he knows that, but continues anyways. He never gives up. It drives
me crazy.

Once again I find myself thinking of living in Maine. It's thousands of miles from
Australia, where I've lived my whole life. I don't understand how moving so far away
will help. If anything, it may make matters worse. Nothing will help me, it never
will. They could send me to Mars, and I still wouldn't change. People can't be
fixed
once they're broken. They are like shattered glass, a bunch of tiny pieces that can't
be taped back together. Invisible, sharp, and crushed. Even if I wanted to fix myself
and put the pieces I have back together, I couldn't.

“Levi? Levi!” Caleb says, snapping me out of my thoughts. I look over at him, turning
my neck sharply to show my annoyance. I glare at him fiercely and wait for him to
start talking. “As I was saying,” he says, “I think you should just go there and
have no previous perceptions of it all. Just have an open mind, it'll be okay.”

It'll be okay.

That's what everyone said six months ago, and they continue to say that. Do I seem
like everything's okay? No. Nothing will ever be okay.

“And,” Caleb adds, “Delia would want you to do this. She would want you to be happy.”

I flinch at the mention of her name and bite my bottom lip nervously. All she ever
wanted was for me to be happy, but look where I am now.

“Sorry, I didn't . . . You know . . . I'm sorry,” Caleb says, fumbling with his words.

I look away from him again and try to forget, like I always do. Just try to forget
what I always remember.

“What should we do?” Caleb asks quietly to change the subject. He taps his fingers
against the steering wheel and bites his lip. “I know you don't want to go back home.”

I shrug. He knew I would respond with that, but he asked anyway.

“What about some pizza? Are you hungry?” he asks me.

I shrug again.

“Okay, pizza it is.”

We drive the rest of the way in silence; the only sound is the rain against the car
and the tires rolling on the pavement. As loud as it may be, nothing is ever loud
enough to drown out my thoughts. I will always be left with all of my thoughts deafening
me.

Once we get to the pizza place, Caleb orders for both of us, like always. He knows
exactly what I want: a large Coke and a pepperoni pizza. I sit at a high table and
wait, watching him lean against the counter and fold the receipt neatly. His brow
is furrowed as he waits, like something is bothering him.

I bet it's me. I'm a bother to everyone.

He sits across from me once the pizza is ready, picking up a slice full of cheese
that stretches high until it breaks. He smiles and licks some sauce off of his thumb
before taking a bite.

“Are you gonna eat any?” he asks with his mouth full, nodding to the pizza.

I reach for a slice, even though I'm not hungry. I rarely ever am.

“When do you leave?” Caleb asks.

I sip my soda and pull my phone out of my pocket and type something quickly. Caleb
waits for my response and puts his pizza down.

A monotonous robotic voice comes out of my phone, reading what I had previously typed.
“I leave in two days. How far away is Maine?”

Caleb bites his lip and thinks. “I dunno. Definitely really far, though.”

I type again. “Isn't Maine cold?”

“Yeah,” Caleb says. “Like your heart.”

I roll my eyes and glare at him. He puts his hands up to defend himself.

“Anyways,” the robotic voice reads, “I'm glad it will be cold. I hate this hot weather.
Maybe I can freeze to death.”

“You don't mean that,” Caleb says.

I nod and raise my eyebrows at him.

I mean everything I say.

Or, to be exact, don't say.

Because the last time I talked was one hundred seventy-nine days ago.

Chapter Two

LEVI

A
irports are consumed by hellos and good-byes, tight hugs and warm embraces. It's
a place to leave what you know, or start somewhere new. There are hundreds of people
with hundreds of stories. I am one of those stories amongst the sea of people. And
right now, my story is just beginning at the same time it is ending.

“Levi,” Caleb says shyly, looking down at his feet. “I know it's been rough for you.
And I wish I could help. Just promise you'll try to make it work, all right? I miss
the old Levi. When you come back, hopefully it'll be soon, and hopefully my
real
best friend will be back. I'll be waiting.” He embraces me in an awkward hug, and
I keep my arms down at my sides before slowly wrapping them around him. I hear him
sigh as he lets go, and he tries to smile.

I can tell he's upset about me leaving, probably because he's worried. He shouldn't
be worried about me. I'm not worth worrying about. I'm just a lost soul. I don't
think the
real Levi
will ever be back.

My mum stands beside Caleb, trying not to cry. Her bottom lip is quivering as she
watches us.

“I'll miss you so much,” my mum tells me for the hundredth time as she hugs me tightly.
She pulls away and keeps her hands on my shoulders. “It'll be fine, I promise. I
wouldn't be sending you if I didn't think it would help. Your dad will be at the
airport once you get there. Make sure you text me when you land so I know
you're
safe. Oh, and don't forget to take your pills. I've already told your dad to remind
you. And make sure you eat on the plane—it's a long flight!” She rambles on and
on about important things to do and remember, but I'm not listening.

I don't get why everyone is so worried and upset about me leaving. It's not like
I ever did anything great. I don't get why they would want me to stay. They should
be happy that I'm leaving, that they're finally able to get rid of me. I'm no longer
their problem. All I am is a nuisance. I never do anything right, all I do is cause
myself and others stress.

I notice that it's getting close to the time I need to board my flight. I pull away
slightly and point to the screen in front of me showing the flight schedules, and
my mum turns around to see what I'm referring to. “Your flight is boarding soon!”
she says frantically. “Here's your bag. Do you have your phone? I feel like you're
forgetting something!”

I raise my eyebrows and tap my foot impatiently.

“Right, right. It's time to leave or you'll miss the flight. Okay. I can't believe
you're leaving! I love you.” She hugs me once more, and for a second I think she'll
never let go. But she does, and I start to head through security.

“Bye, Levi! Bring me a souvenir!” I hear Caleb call. I can tell he's trying to lighten
the mood, but it's not helping.

I walk toward the security agent, and I know my mum has already started crying. I
turn around and I was right; there are tears on her cheeks. I give her a thumbs-up
and a small wave. She smiles and waves back. Caleb puts his arm around her shoulders
and tries to console her. I guess he can be all right sometimes.

“Ticket, please?” the security guard says.

I show her my ticket, and she looks at it quickly. “Levi Harrison?” she reads.

I nod.

“All right. You're at Gate A8. Enjoy your flight.”

After a flight that felt like it lasted fifty hours, I finally landed. I slept most
of the way because I had nothing else to do. I could've watched a movie, but none
of them interested me.

I search for my dad in the airport, but I can't see him yet. I look over the sea
of people, scanning to find him.

“Levi?” I hear someone yell from behind me.

I turn around slowly and look around. My eyes land on my dad, who is standing a few
feet away from me.

He's less tan than I remember, and he has less hair. He's wearing a black fleece
jacket and jeans. I remember him always wearing T-shirts and shorts.

He smiles widely and shoves through the crowd of people.

“You've grown so much!” he says. “Your hair has grown too!” He chuckles at his own
stupid remark.

I roll my eyes and rock back on my heels, unsure of what to do. He seems a little
nervous.

“So, uh, how've you been?” he asks.

I start to walk through the crowd of people to get to the baggage claim, completely
ignoring my dad.

I don't want to be here. This whole thing is pointless. I already want to get on
another plane and head home. I'd even go to Alaska. Anywhere would be better than
here.

“Well,” he mumbles as he walks behind me. “Great start.”

I don't think he realizes I can hear him, even though I'm only a few feet ahead.
When you're as quiet as I am, you hear everything.

I watch the bags come out one by one and wait for my black suitcase to appear. My
dad stands beside me, a little too close for comfort. My bag appears, and I quickly
grab it.

“I guess this is where we're supposed to hug,” he abruptly says. “You know, if you
want.” He puts his arms out for an embrace, but I don't move. I bite on the inside
of my cheek and cross my arms over my chest.

“Right,” he says glumly. He puts his arms down slowly and rubs behind his neck. He
shuts his lips tightly together and takes in a deep breath. “Are you hungry? Tired?
Anything you want?” he asks in an effort to reduce the awkwardness.

My stomach grumbles, even though I was unaware that I was hungry. I look around for
a place to get food, and I notice a McDonald's. I walk toward it as I drag my suitcase
with me.

My dad could at least offer to carry my suitcase. That would be a
kind
thing to do.
I pretend that the suitcase is extremely heavy and struggle to drag it. In reality,
it isn't heavy at all. It's quite light actually.

“Want me to carry that?” my dad finally asks. I smirk slyly to myself; my plan worked.

I continue to drag it along. All I wanted was for him to ask, not to do it. I don't
need people catering to me. Plus, it proves that my dad is somewhat willing to help.
The father I remember never would have offered to help with anything. Maybe he's
changed. I highly doubt it, though.

I glare at my dad, who is now beside me, and quickly walk to McDonald's so we're
no longer at the same pace. He scratches his head in a confused manner since I'm
now carrying the suitcase with ease. I roll my eyes at his stupidity.

“Are you heading to McDonald's? Yeah, you definitely are. Do you need money?” my
dad says from behind, running over to catch up to me again.

I ignore him and pull out my wallet. I take out a wrinkled piece of cash and try
to flatten it.

“Levi, you can't—” my dad starts to say, but is cut off.

“Next,” the lady at the cash register says. I walk up and she smiles. “Hi, what would
you like?” I go to the notes on my phone and type in what I want to order. My dad
taps my shoulder, but I ignore him. What's he so persistent about? Can't he wait?

I pass my phone across the counter, and she scrunches her eyebrows together. She
reads what's on my phone and a wave of realization crosses her face.

“Oh, all right. Are you deaf?” she asks slowly, overexaggerating the way she moves
her mouth.

This happens all the time. Lots of people mistake me for a deaf person, which is
understandable. At first it bothered me, but now it happens so often that I don't
care. I shake my head, and she scrunches her eyebrows again.

“Oh. Well, that will be six dollars and eleven cents.”

I give her my money, and she tilts her head to the side.

“Sorry, this isn't American money. We can't accept it,” she tells me, handing it
back to me.

I feel my cheeks heat up, and I fumble with my wallet, even though all I have is
Australian money. My dad pops up beside me with cash in hand.

“Here. Sorry about that,” he tells the lady.

I glare at him and slap my hand down on the counter in frustration. He could have
told me sooner, before I had to embarrass myself like that. I bite my bottom lip
in frustration and head over to the pick-up counter. I purposely shove my dad's shoulder
when I walk past him, causing him to bump into the person beside him. I hear him
grunt before he follows me. He plasters a fake smile on his face to hide his annoyance,
but I see right through him.

“That's a neat idea,” my dad says when he walks over to me. “Do you do that often?”
he asks, pointing to my phone.

I turn away from him and pretend to be interested in something, anything really.
When you don't talk, you notice more. I find myself constantly watching others, simply
because there's nothing else to do with my time. At least it takes my mind off things,
even if it's just for a little while.

I watch a small child run to a man, who I assume is her dad, and he hugs her tightly.
A couple is fighting at the ticket counter over something. A mother nervously sends
her teenager onto a flight alone.

I almost forgot about my mum! I pull my phone out of my pocket, and there are multiple
texts from her. I text her that I made it and everything's fine. She was probably
worried the whole time.