How to Forget

Suspicious(TM)

The bell for second period saves all of us from a terribly boring lecture about the governmental system of India that Mr. Ambrose has the audacity to act excited about. Nat and I rise from our seats in the back of the classroom, where I have relocated myself to so that I won't be so lonely in the middle section without Nat, and make our way towards the front and then towards the door. However, our distance from the exit renders us the last few to escape, and Mr. Ambrose uses this fact to draw us back in with one of his unnecessary comments.

"I see you two have become quite good friends. You're always talking during class," he says, and I'm not completely sure whether it's passive aggressive or not.

I immediately try to make amends. "Oh, sorry, sir, I didn't realize we were being so disruptive. We'll stop."

Mr. Ambrose waves it off. "Oh, no, I'm not mad. I'm just...surprised." He tilts his head.

"How so?"

Nat nudges my shoe with his own. "Link."

I create eye contact with him. "What? It's a legitimate question." I'm tired of my questions always being danced around. I'm tired of being excluded from a secret that everyone at school is in on. So I'll ask what I need to ask, because that's my goddamn prerogative as an amnesiac.

Nat ignores me to instead smile politely and artificially at our teacher and pull me out of the classroom with him. "Thank you for class, Mr. Ambrose."

Being the kid of teacher who tries to relate to his teenage students even though his teenage days are twenty years gone, he throws up some finger guns. "I'll see you fellas later."

As soon as we're in the corridor and away from Mr. Ambrose, Nat lets go of me and reverts back to his jolly self. "What class do you have next?"

I shake my head in disbelief and take my own turn at dragging him places. "You're not doing this."

"Link, what the hell are you doing?"

I don't respond. Now he's the one with unanswered questions. Let him see how it feels.

I find what seems to be a suitable room. Peering in through the window in the door, I see that it's empty. As soon as I push Nat inside, that's when I release my grasp on his shirt. "What the fuck is going on?"

Completely casually, he straightens out his shirt and replies, "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." He still looks clueless, so I push it. "Everyone's acting like I defied the odds by becoming your friend. What was the deal with us before the crash?"

"I guess we just came from different circles, is all." He's gotten better at playing dumb, I notice.

I scoff. "Okay, sure."

I have a class to get to, so I don't utilize the rest of my five minute passing period to bring up the fact that if jocks don't hang out with whatever I was before the crash, they're not going to approach loners at their lunch table, even if they're amnesiacs. If jocks saw me as a loser before the crash, they're still going to see me as a loser now. All of this is suspicious, but I'm behind in math, so I can't be bothered with it too much right now. Although lord knows that's all I'm going to be thinking about regardless.

My fingers curled around the handle of the door, I leave him with a closing phrase. "I wish you could just be honest with me."

"Link," Nat says in an attempt to make me stay, but I'm already past the threshold.

"I have to get to class," I remind him, cold-hearted. "It's math, since you were wondering."

~~~~~

A/N: why is this all so secretive omfg

~Dakoota