Read Online Revive by Tracey Martin - Free Book Online

didn’t say much about it. Just that you didn’t like it and are happier at RTC. Although you missed your friends. Oh, and the work was a lot more difficult at your old school. But I find that hard to believe, and if it’s true, that’s scary given my workload this semester.”
    I ponder that, waiting—hoping—for something to knock loose another memory.
    Kyle stops his tapping and wraps his fingers around my hand. The rough edges of the bandage near his thumb slide against my skin. I’m not the only one who’s wounded.
    â€œWhat did you do to your hand?”
    He tucks the thumb under his palm as if ashamed of the injury. “Nothing. Just a cut. Last night, the window—you don’t remember that either? How much do you remember? Really. Be honest.”
    I stare at the floor. Slush has melted off our sneakers and forms a grayish-brown puddle at our feet. I feel as dirty as the tiles because anything I say is going to be an obvious lie. Don’t show weakness is great advice, but I’m in no state to put it to use.
    Kyle gives me a minute, but when I don’t respond, he sighs. “Okay, look. You’re scaring me. I thought maybe… I don’t know, never mind. But whatever it is that happened to you, it’s a lot worse than I thought at first. Mass General is right down the street. I think—”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œSophia—”
    I yank my hand from him. “No.”
    Where my fear comes from, I don’t know. But some things, even if I can’t place them, stick with me like scars.
    Bad people are coming. Trust no one. Stay away from doctors.
    Kyle presses his lips thin in disapproval, and we stare each other down. Eventually, he gives up. “Fine. I can’t drag you there, but this is serious. Do you want to head back to campus?”
    â€œNo.” If they are coming, they already know I go to RTC. Going back there would be giving myself up. I take a bite of muffin while Kyle frowns at me. It sticks to my throat, and I have to force it down. “I’m going to be fine. Stuff is coming back.”
    â€œYou hit your head.”
    â€œI’m a little disoriented.”
    He shakes my arm. “The way you’re acting, you probably have a concussion or something. You need help.”
    I turn from him defiantly, doing what I should have done earlier while I pondered his T-shirt. I take in the coffee shop, assessing the baristas and customers for signs of threats and the doors for easy exits. The guy at the next table pulls an e-sheet from his pocket, unfolds it and begins reading the newspaper.
    Read Harris.
    Great. That’s more specific, but it doesn’t make more sense. Is Harris a book, an author, a website, what?
    Would Kyle know? Is it wise to ask him?
    He’s watching me, or more like he’s studying me while I watch everyone else. Why isn’t he sharing more with me? Why won’t he tell me more about myself? Is he purposely keeping things from me?
    â€œReally crazy suggestion here,” he says. “But since you’re refusing to see a doctor, maybe you should call your dad.”
    I freeze at the sheer obviousness of it. A dad. Parents. Yeah, I should have one or both of those. Everyone has one or both of those.
    So why am I drawing a complete blank? I mean, yes, my memories are screwed up and missing, but this is parents. This should be fundamental. And yet the whole concept of parents feels foreign. Alien.
    I have no parents.
    I always look up, I can’t trust doctors, and I have no parents—things I’m sure of. Sophia—Seven—I—am a freak.
    Swallowing, I return my attention to Kyle. “Have I ever talked about my parents?”
    â€œYou’ve mentioned your dad before. I think you said he works for the government.” Kyle raises an eyebrow, and I nod along like I know this. “You don’t talk a lot about him, but he calls you once a