Read Online Reclaimed by Sarah Guillory - Free Book Online Page B

it was the easy way he smiled or the laughter that seemed to be just behind his eyes. Or maybe it was simply because we felt the same need to work toward what we wanted. It shouldn’t have been that simple, but it was.
    “How many beautiful girls have you forgotten?” I asked.
    “I’ve forgotten them, haven’t I?”
    I had to laugh. The fact that Ian could joke about something that wasn’t really funny helped me forgive him. Losing memories had to be one of the worst things in the world. Being mad because he couldn’t remember a couple minutes with me was selfish. It wasn’t his fault. I knew all about dealing with the crap life dealt. It felt like that was all I was doing these days.
    “What about you?” he asked. “What would you make happen?”
    Even though I wasn’t mad anymore, he hadn’t earned the right to be let in yet. I noticed he hadn’t answered my question either. “What, besides the obvious one?”
    “What obvious one?” There was laughter in his voice.
    “Willing myself not to be chased by forgetful boys.”
    “Is that what I’m doing? Chasing you?” He leaned forward to catch my eye before placing his hand over the top of mine. “You must not be as quick as you thought.”
    I pulled my hand away and placed it on the steering wheel. “You haven’t caught me yet.”
IAN
    Jenna turned onto a dirt road lined with trees, and the forest swallowed us. When we finally pulled into a large open area, I was surprised to see it full of people. It had seemed like we were so far away from everything else. Jenna parked and climbed out of the Bronco. Everyone smiled and called to her. Maybe that was what finding my memories would be like—wandering alone in the wilderness would become a gathering of childhood friends.
    Jenna introduced me around, but I immediately forgot everyone’s name. It was hard enough for my brain to hold onto whole days; names slipped through like smoke. I wanted to remember enough to know at least a few people before school started. I hoped getting my memory back would solve this problem. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life desperately trying to hold on to details.
    “Oliver and the new guy!” Kyle shouted from a nearby boat. He waved us over, and we’d barely gotten in and away from the shore before Kyle punched it. Several kids on Jet Skis passed us up, and Kyle pushed the throttle forward. Water splashed over the sides of the boat and onto a couple of squealing girls. Jenna glared fiercely into the wind, her hair streaming behind her like flames.
    We sat in the back of the boat, and Jenna tethered me to Solitude with her stories. I could’ve spent the entire day just listening to her talk. Her words created images vivid enough that I could almost steal her memories for my own. I liked her stories. I liked her.
    “My grandpa used to take me fishing here,” she said. We had to lean in close to hear each other over the growl of the engine and the roar of the wind. I didn’t mind. “He used to get so mad because I wouldn’t leave my line in the water.” She smiled. “I just liked to reel it in.”
    Kyle was standing at the wheel, and he turned halfway. “Did you ever jump off the Point?” he asked Jenna. He pointed toward a cliff on the left side of the boat.
    “People jump off that?” I asked. It had to be at least thirty feet high.
    “Not anymore,” Kyle said. “Some kid broke his neck a few years back.”
    “His name was Peter,” Jenna said.
    “Oh yeah.” Kyle started telling the story. But when Jenna turned back to me, I forgot to listen.
    We rode to the other side of the lake, slowing once we neared a tiny island in the middle of a large cove. Cliffs jutted out at odd angles from either bank, and the island itself was covered in large trees that gave way to a rocky shore. Kyle eased the boat onto the island, then started tossing everything onto the dirt.
    I sat at the edge of their group and tried to remember what it had been like when I