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Allie doesn't believe the car crash that caused her amnesia was an accident. She knows the truth...
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THE SOUND OF quick footsteps coming from behind reaches my ears, followed by a pair of arms latching around my shoulders, causing me to stumble a little. Dylan plants a kiss in my hair as he rights us, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see his large grin. Laughing uncomfortably, I subtly disentangle myself from him, reaching up to pat down my hair.
"Hey," he greets, his smile unwavering.
My heart sighs wearily when it registers the hopeful look in his eyes. "Um, hi," I mumble as we walk toward the study hall. "I don't mean to sound like a broken record, but I thought we were going to take things slow?" Taking things slow does not equate to overbearing public displays of affection in my mind, but maybe it does in his.
He laughs shortly, raising an eyebrow. "Well, we said that before you kissed me last night."
Closing my eyes briefly I take a deep breath. The same feeling of guilt I experienced last night returns, twisting my insides and making me squirm. "Dylan," I say, disappointment colouring my tone. "That was just a... thank you. It didn't really mean anything else."
Each word makes me want to cringe as I say it aloud, but it's too late, and I glance up, catching a glimpse of the hurt on his face. "I'm sorry," I murmur.
After a few moments of looking completely dejected, he recovers, his smile returning, though he avoids my eyes now. He clears his throat. "Regardless of that, it was a great night, and we should do it again sometime."
The idea of going out again with Dylan is not the worst thing in the world, considering how much fun we did have yesterday, but I can't help but feel wary if this is the follow up. Being with someone you can't remember being in love with proves to be more difficult everyday. There's a voice in the back of my mind, telling me I should end the relationship and avoid stringing him along, but I don't know if that would be fair. I haven't given it a proper chance yet.
I'm about to respond, when a new thought occurs to me, my mind switching gears. "Do you have study hall next?"
"Yeah," he says slowly, narrowing his eyes.
"Feel like skipping out and going somewhere with me?"
His eyes widen slightly before a grin blooms on his face.
Ten minutes later, I stand at the entrance to the old car lot, appraising the worn out sign that reads Rawley's Junkyard in fading red letters, accompanied by an image of a cartoon vehicle, the front of the car broken and mangled. After doing a quick search on one of the school computers, I soon learned that this was the likeliest place that my car was hauled to after my accident. Since the night of the family dinner, and the nightmare, I haven't been able to shake my burning curiosity about the details of the accident.
Dylan stands next to me, his hands in his pockets, his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. "You know, this isn't what I was expecting when you said you wanted to go somewhere with me."
