CHAPTER 9
“Your food is getting cold.”
I looked up at Mrs. Cadwell, apology on the tip of my tongue. The Cadwells eat dinner together at least once a week, on the second floor of Ollie’s. Mr. Cadwell himself would prepare the dinner, and even Jamie was not allowed to touch her phone while we all ate. The dinner was a sacred habit for us.
Mr. Cadwell put down his fork. “What’s wrong, Elena?”
That name sounded off now, now that I was closer to discovering who Eiko was. Who I might just be.
I put down my own fork and bit the inside of my cheeks, glancing at an expectant Jamie and a frowning Cadwell couple. My lips worked before my brain did.
“I just want to ask…”
“Yes?”
“I want to ask...” I cleared my throat. “Actually, I just want to say that there’s a possibility I might remember a little already.”
There was silence. I hadn’t said what I might have remembered, but we all knew that already. It was Jamie who spoke first.
She drank her water before speaking. “Is this about that new student at school?” She looked at her father and elaborated. “Lena thinks the guy looks familiar, like she’s known him before.”
He’d even admitted it, I wanted to argue. But I didn’t say that. I waited warily for their response.
“What,” Mr. Cadwell asked carefully, “do you remember, exactly?”
“My name. Eiko. It’s Japanese. I told you that it was just a little,” I added defensively.
Jamie frowned. “Isn’t that what the guy—what’s his name again?—called you?”
“Duane,” I said. “And I know what you’re thinking, but I don’t think he’s lying.”
“Duane?” Mrs. Cadwell, who was usually silent, queried in wonder. “I’ve heard of that name before.”
“Oh!” Mr. Cadwell said. “The Sanders cousin. I’ve seen the kid. Looks older than he should, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” Jamie chimed in. “He looked like he could go to college already.”
“Well,” I muttered, but too low for them to hear, “I was just saying. Thought you’d like to know if I’d remembered something.”
A few days after my visit to the Sanders house, I found myself in the History class again. In my mind, I made the game plan. I wouldn’t act hasty. I would be careful in getting what I wanted. I’d given a thought about what Armand said.
Maybe I was just asking the wrong questions.
But when Duane sat beside me—his presence was too distracting. Tongue-tied, I couldn’t say a word, couldn’t say—
“Miss Cadwell, would you please share us your opinion about our current topic? You look like you’ve been thinking really hard.”
I snapped my gaze to Mr. Harrington, flushing. The teacher had an amused expression on my behalf. My eyes flitted to the words on the board. “Um…Pacific War…” The only thing I could never forget about the World War II was just that Ben Affleck looked really good in the movie, and I really liked Kate Beckinsale’s lipstick shade. I cleared my throat. “Er, Japan attacked Pearl Harbor, and President Truman decided on revenge. The military bombed Japan…and we won?”
“That’s true,” Mr. Harrington said, “but I was hoping for a more elaborate answer. Anyone else?” He broke into a grin. “Our newcomer, perhaps, since you’ve been staring at Miss Cadwell for a long time?”
Everyone laughed. Someone in the class whistled. I wanted to die of the embarrassment.
Then Duane spoke. “Which battle would you like me to elaborate?”
It was strange, his tone. He spoke as if not to a teacher, but to an equal. Mr. Harrington didn’t seem to take any offense, though. “It’s up to you. Whichever part you like most.”
“There’s nothing to like about the war.”
I looked up then, at him. His jaw was tight, and something flashed in his gray eyes that made me thought again about what Mr. Cadwell had said. Looks older than he should, don’t you think? It wasn’t his physical features, though, that made him look older. It was the set of those gray eyes—as if they had seen too much more than the time allowed.
“Regarding the bombing she said. The USAAF dropped the bombs, mainly aiming at big cities in Japan. After the six largest cities were burned, USAAF moved onto the smaller towns and cities. In 1945, the US dropped the most dangerous battle weapon—the nuclear bomb. Hiroshima and Nagasaki were destroyed. America lost about twelve thousand of soldiers who were held by Japan at the time. After that was the occupation. American soldiers resided there for about six years—”
“Alright, alright.” Mr. Harrington held up a hand. “We’re straying now. But thanks for the enlightening explanation. Should we give applause for our new student here? It seems like we’ve got a history buff here.”
The class cheered. I clapped my hands with them. Wow. I couldn’t keep my gaze off Duane now. His eyes were cast down—not in modesty—shame, perhaps? But that didn’t make any sense.
The teacher’s voice faded away as I focused on Duane. This was the right time.
I scribbled the words on a slip of paper and shoved it to him.
He gave me a quick glance, then read the words: It’s not fair, I’d written. He scribbled something in reply and shoved it to me.
What’s not fair?
That you know me more than I do, I wrote. It empowers you over me.
His reply was swift. I can’t.
Irritated, I decided to speak aloud. “You don’t even give me a chance.”
He started to go for the paper again, but I caught his hand. His skin was hotter than warm. We both froze at the contact.
“I know you meant something to me,” I whispered to him. “I remember that much.”
Gray eyes flicked up to me. Silent words spoke beyond them, beyond the word he was voicing aloud. “Stop.”
“Duane.” I held his gaze. “Why did you come to me that night, if you thought I wasn’t ready to remember?”
His chest rose once, then fell. I heard the breath he released. “I can’t stay away. But it’s for the best.”
“I hate that saying. Wouldn’t I know what the best is for me? Help me remember. Please.”
“Eiko…”
My breath hitched. I forgot where we were, what we’re supposed to be doing. We both leaned in—
A loud throat clearing came above us. We both broke apart.
“I strongly suggest,” the teacher warned, “against canoodling in my class. Wait, what do you kids call it again these days? PDA?”
“Sorry,” I said, sheepishly. “But we weren’t doing anything.”
The teacher’s gaze moved pointedly to my hand—still adjoined with Duane’s. I winced inwardly and let go of his hand. Someone behind us cooed. My face heated.
I was so close to answers.
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Incarnadine
Paranormal*COMPLETED* Seventeen-year-old Elena had lost something for the past few years, and she had yet to discover it. It wasn't something that'd just show up because she was determined to find it. And no one could find it for her. She'd lost her memory. W...
