Her Absent Memory

Chapter One

She had never been hurt, she had never cried, and she had never been caught.

So she smiled.

At least, that's what everybody said... I hadn't met her in any of my ten years of living in our small Montana town. But, she was always brought up in one conversation or another.

The stories always began with her roots, born in a nearby city. She grew up with a mission to be reckless and cause all sorts of trouble. Which caused her to be kicked out of every campus she set foot on. Eventually, that brought her into our school district. Once she got into high school, she moved into our town. Still, I had not met her. I had not even seen her.

Walking into third period on the first day of my Junior year, I had no idea that all of that was about to change. This is our story.

I sigh and lug my surprisingly heavy backpack into my third class of the day; AP Physics. Who would've thought that I'd be receiving such a workload on the first day of school? I search the classroom for a place to put down my backpack, as well as a safe place to sit. I spot an empty seat available by the wall. Just as I'm about to make my way towards the desk, the teacher holds her arm out in front of me. I take a step back and see that she is beaming.

"Slow down there, Speed Racer." She says with a laugh, "We have a seating chart."

I force a weak smile and she takes my name, pointing me to my seat.

My desk is in the middle of the classroom, pushed up against another desk. My neighboring pier sports a Los Angeles Kings snapback and a black sweatshirt with grey sleeves. She attempts to balance a ruler atop her mechanical pencil without success. The girl across the row occasionally glances at her and rambles on and on about her summer, while the boy behind her is fixed on her balancing act.

I hesitantly head to my new seat, setting my backpack down on the desk. I sit down, pull out my notebook, and scratch down the list of supplies we will need on the board. The girl turns to me, looking down at my writing.

"Are we supposed to be writing this down?" She asks me, scratching the tip of her slightly pointed nose.

My eyes meet her light blue, almost silver irises. "I'm just playing it safe." I tell her.

"Oh..." She says.

I take a deep breath, thankful our conversation is over. But I tense up once more when she decides to rekindle the dying small talk.

"What's your name?"

"I'm Sutton. Sutton Everett." I hold out my hand and offer her a warm smile.

She nods her head slowly, chewing up a wad of paper. "Riley Bradshaw."

She doesn't even shake my hand, she just whips around in her seat and sends a spitball flying at a kid with his head down on the desk. Riley turns around laughing, casting her attention back towards me. She leans in and smiles as if she's examining all of my facial features.

"You're cute." She says, causing my cheeks to instantly light up, "Are you one of those... What're they called? Uh... Preps?"

"I most certainly am not!" I object, my eyes widening.

"Sorry. I've just seen you on the cheer team pictures. And I see today, you're wearing a pencil skirt, a tank top, and your hair is rather perfect." Riley flashes me a quirky half smile, then nudges my arm gently, "I'm just teasing."

I snort and continue writing down supplies for the school year. Once again, Paramedic Riley revives the conversation on the brink of death.

"What's your schedule?" She asks.

"Calculus with Whitter, French with Rickson, this class, T.A. for Mrs. Thompson, B Lunch, English with Romani, and then History with Cruz." I read it off from memory.

"Ah, good news. We practically get the whole rest of the day together." Riley leans back in her seat and smirks.

Suddenly, for some reason, it all clicks in my brain. Everything I'd heard about, about her. Riley was-er, is-her.

"Hey, wait a second. You moved here from the city, didn't you?" I ask.

"Yeah." She pushes the brim of her hat up.

"That girl that everybody talks about! You! You're her!" I announce.

"Eh, I wouldn't say everybody." Riley chuckles and runs a hand through her dark, shoulder-length hair.

"I can't believe it. I... I thought you would be different. You don't look anything like people describe you. You're much prettier," I tilt my head, speaking my thoughts.

"Thanks. Consider the feeling... Mutual." She smirks as she begins to scribble down a list of supplies.

I begin to gather my things and think of a way to find out more about this character. I want to know if all of the stories are true. I thoughtfully place my notebook in my backpack, zipping it up quickly and watching as Riley hurries to compile her list. When she's finally done, she folds the paper up and sticks it in her pocket. I stare at her with my eyebrows raised.

"So, you ever been here?" I begin.

"Actually, yeah. I attended for a little bit of my freshman year. Then I left, but here I am again." She replies, shrugging her shoulders.

"What made you leave?" I pry.

"I got caught up with the wrong crowd, I guess. Made some stupid decisions, hung out with some stupid people. Got in trouble for it." Riley sighs.

"That sucks." I note, "Who were you palling around with?"

"Do you know Fallon?" She asks.

"On ASB, right?"

"Yes, ma'am. I was dating her and we got into all sorts of trouble with a bunch of juniors and seniors," Riley grins for a moment, as if she's reliving all of the memories right in front of me.

"You dated Fallon?" I raise my eyebrows once more.

"Yeah," She says nonchalantly, "Great gal."

"So... You're, like, gay?" I instantly realize how stupid that sounded when I see the look on Riley's face.

However, she just nods and shifts her attention elsewhere. I sit there for a moment, absorbing the information I've just learned. Then, I take my phone out and send a quick text to my friend Cora. Cora knows a lot about everyone, so I'm curious to see if she knows about this. My fingers glide across the screen of my iPhone before coming to a halt as I press the send button.

To: Cora

Omfg. Cora. I sit by that Riley girl in class. Did you know she's gay?

From: Cora

What the hell? Demand to switch seats. That's disgusting.

My gaze shifts back to Riley as she doodles on her desk, completely focused. I glance back down at my phone and then put it away. Just because she's gay, doesn't mean she's bad. I think I'm fine with sitting here.

"Alright, class! When you're done writing the notes, we'll begin our first lecture." Ms. Capaletti tells the class.