Concussion •Miniminter•

•46•

It's funny how one can be in 2017 and not know how to use social media. I actually bet there's a lot of people who are in this world right now that don't know how to post a snapchat or a tweet. Hell, some people probably don't even know what social media is.

     There are also people who know what social media is, how to use it, but choose not to be part of it. Instead, they take photos. Thousands and thousands of photos saved on all their devices. And at any given time when they decide to browse through all those photos, they can remember that exact moment it was taken. The sound, the smell, even what happened right after the photo was snapped.

     Then, there's me. Bailey Barnes, one of the only humans who has all social medias but doesn't remember shit about how to work them. So, when JJ comes around and tells me I'm twitter famous because I have a trending hashtag on twitter, I tell him with my eyebrows that I have no idea what he's talking about.

     Same for photos. Before Simon was going to show me how to use my phone properly, he wanted me to look through my photos. "Maybe you'll remember something," he suggested as he handed me my phone, now sitting in two rolling chairs at his computer desk. 827 photos, yet I couldn't remember a single one. There was one that I did like though, that made me laugh; it was a picture of Simon laying on his stomach in bed, his shocked face glowing from the flash, opposite of the dark room in the background. I showed it to him and he chuckled, laying back in his chair.

     "Yeah, I sent that to you one morning when I was annoying you to get up," he smiled as he remembered it, staring at it before looking back at his computer screen, still smiling.

     "Simon?"

     "Yeah?"

     "What were we, like, before I fucked up my head?" he turned his head and looked at me, his face saying why did you ask me this?

     "What do you mean?" He asked, obviously acting clueless.

     "Well, its never Josh, or JJ, or Vik who have offered to help me out, you seem to always want to hang out with me, you came and visited me at the hospital almost everyday and you're in a lot of the pictures on my phone. Were we something before?" I finally perked up the courage to ask. He smirked and looked down to the floor, making me grin at his cuteness. Suddenly, his smirk changed to a straight face, like he was thinking. I sat in patient silence as he sorted through his thoughts.

Simons POV
     I smirked and looked to the floor, remembering all the good times we've had in the past week. How do I tell her? How do I tell her that the time I really knew I wanted to be with her was after she was hurt? How do I tell her that the reason she's in our house, right now, is because I want her to fully recover and be cared for, by me?

I had become really upset after I found out that she had a slim chance of regaining her memory. She'd forget her family, friends, and her "relationship" with me. She'd forget that I was never known for having a girlfriend, and she would never think she was the luckiest girl on the planet. She'd forget what I told her before, how someday, I would love to date her. She'd forget that, forever.

But at the same time, what if it was a good thing she lost her memory? She had been drugged, kicked out of her school, seen her parents' own death and gotten stalked by a former Uni bitch. But now she doesn't have to remember any of it.

I just want her to be happy. I want her to know what it was like to be happy last week, but also not have to know the pain of past years. How do I explain that all to her?

"Trust me, it's a long story," I looked into her pleading eyes, craving to know more about her life. Our life. "But I promise, overtime, I'll show you who we are."

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I really enjoyed writing this chapter 😊❤️

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Stay chill,
Natalie 🤘🏼