Remember Me - Part 18: The First Day “I told you, man: Big. Ass. Bitch,” Sam said as he shut his locker. “I told you trying to talk to her wasn’t a good idea,” Randall said. “Maybe you--“ I banged my fists against a locker. “Yeah, I know! Maybe I SHOULD have listened to you, but I didn’t. You guys don’t understand...” “All I understand is you need to get your head back,” Connor said. “And make sure you screw it on right, ‘cause the old Locke never in a million years would’ve went after Miranda.” I really, really wanted to punch Connor in the face. “Shut the fuck up, Connor,” I said. He put his hands up in defense, “Whoa, OK,” he said and started walking off, “I’m going to class. Later.” “Later,” Sam said. “Don’t worry about it, Locke” Randall said. “It’s over now.” I groaned. It wasn’t over for me. It wouldn’t be over until I got my memory back. “Alright,” I said, “where do I go?” I took out my schedule that the Office gave me this morning. Sam grabbed it. “You have Stats first period with Sigmon. Right over there,” he pointed. “See these numbers?” he pointed to the paper. “Room numbers. Just find the rooms you need to be in when you need to be in them and you’ll be fine. Just make sure after fourth you go to the cafeteria for lunch. Just follow the crowd of people and we’ll meet you there.” “Okay,” I said. They each gave me a pat on the shoulder then left. I prayed to God I didn’t have any classes with Miranda, which is probably what I would’ve begged for had I not gone to the party. As I walked in the room, an uncomfortable number of eyes fell on me. I slowly walked to an empty desk and sat down. As soon as I did, they all started whispering. After a minute, the teacher walked in and welcomed us back, then began the lesson. I wondered if confronting Miranda at school would’ve made it any less harsh; I probably wouldn’t have been splashed with water, at least. I just wanted to forget what happened, but I couldn’t. The whole weekend was miserable. I was surprised I had even made it home alive that night. By the time we left, we were all drunk. Really drunk. The five-minute drive to my house wasn’t too bad; Sam managed not to hit anything. I only assumed the other two were dropped off safely because they made it to school today. We hadn’t talked the whole weekend, because there was really nothing to talk about. The teacher kept looking at me while he spoke, but it didn’t make me pay attention; I just kept zoning out. Right after Miranda threw her virgin water in my face and stormed off, I went to the bathroom to dry myself. I didn’t want to cry, but I did. I went to the parlor afterward and told Randall what had happened. He was too drunk to feel true pity for me, which I was thankful for. We drank until we couldn’t see straight; he did for fun, I did to get my mind off my miserable state. We might’ve tried to play pool, but I can’t remember. We ran into Sam and Connor as the party died down, then left. My dad was awake in the living room when I got home, and he asked how the party was and if I found Miranda, but I just said I didn’t want to talk about it, then went to bed. I woke up sometime in the afternoon Saturday, severely hung over, so I just went back to sleep and woke up/dozed off a few more times throughout the day. Dad was home all day, but he gave me my space, thankfully. I was mad whenever I was awake, and if he tried to pry, I might’ve snapped at him. Sunday rolled around, and I woke up to find my dad had already left for church. He’d left me a note on the table. I was eating lunch when he came home, so he joined me. I told him everything. He felt really bad for me, which is exactly what I didn’t want. I didn’t want anyone’s sympathy; I wanted their support and understanding. The rest of the day I spent reading through my journal. I found out that the last page in my journal didn’t hold any answers regarding our break up, Miranda’s feelings toward me, or my feelings toward her. It was simply about how we had lunch at her house. I was beginning to get so fed up with all the confusion and stories and explanations that didn’t match up. I just wanted to have my #life back. But then, I thought to be careful what I wished for, because I wished for Miranda, and just look at how that turned out... The bell rang, and I got up with everyone else to find my next class. Before I knew it, it rang again. And again. And again, and I was at lunch, in line with the guys. “How’s the first day goin’?” Sam asked. “It’s going,” I said, “fast. I haven’t been paying attention at all.” “You sound like Connor,” he said. “Huh?” Connor said, whipping around. We laughed as we grabbed trays and started picking food. “So, you guys know Hannah?” Sam asked. The other two nodded. “She was all over me and Dave Friday night. People have been saying that she broke up with Brandon the night before the party. She tried to get me and Dave to go upstairs with her!” “Whoa,” Connor said. “Nice.” “Yeah, but I didn’t. I knew I would’ve had such bad karma, like, I could feel it,” Sam got real close to me, pinching his fingers near his lips, “I could TASTE it,” he said. “Well, we all know Brandon is, like, the most aggressive guy in school,” Randall said. “Yeah, you probably would’ve gotten the shit beat out of you if you would’ve hooked up with her,” Connor said. “I hope Dave didn’t. I like Dave.” “Please,” said Sam, “I could easily take on Brandon.” We paid for our food then I followed the guys across the cafeteria to a table we probably had always sat at. “Speaking of rumors,” Sam said, “everyone knows you’re back with more amnesia.” “That explains the stares,” I said, picking up my sandwich. “...and about your stunt with Miranda,” he added. “You’re shitting me,” I said with my stuffed mouth hanging open. “Nope,” Sam said, taking a bite of his sandwich. I looked at Randall and Connor, who sat on the other side of the table. They both took bites. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” I yelled. “Miranda’s got a big yap,” Connor said. “And a lot of yapping friends,” Randall said. When I thought if it could get any worse, a tall, muscular guy stood at the end of our table with a lunch tray full of food. When he smiled and said “Hey, guys,” I remembered who he was. Shit. “Hey, Matt,” Connor said. Matt Daily put his tray down and slid it across the table. He looked at me. “What’s up, Locke?” he said as he put his hands on the table, leaning over it. I kept eating my sandwich. The other guys had stopped. “Not much, man, how ‘bout you?” “So, I heard you tried to get with Miranda Friday night,” he said, cocking his head and moving his eyebrows around. He didn’t sound threatening, but he did have a hint of concern in his voice. I had an instinct telling me to stand up and punch Matt in the face, but I ignored it. “Maybe,” I said. Randall and Connor started getting up. I smiled at Matt, “But maybe I didn’t.” I scratched my chin and said slowly, “I can’t re-mem-ber.” “Don’t think I’m buying your ‘amnesia’ bullshit for one second, you little piece of shit,” he spat. I stood up in front of him. “I know it was all a lie just to try to get with her.” Out of nowhere, three other guys appeared next to Sam, Randall and Connor. They grabbed their arms, holding them back. Matt looked like he was going to make a move, but before he could, I socked him in the jaw. He took a step back, lifting his hands to cup it. My knuckles really hurt, but the pain on his face made it feel so good. Matt took a big swing at my stomach, making me heave. I swung my foot and kicked him in the shin. He yelled, and then threw himself at me. Next thing I knew, I was on my knees and I could hear my guys fighting with the other guys. A familiar buzzing sounded off in my head. I unwrapped my arms from my stomach to cover my ears. I looked up with enough time to see two things: 1) all the kids crowding around to get a good look as 2) Matt’s fist flew at my face. The buzzing noise became ringing as soon as he hit me. I screamed in pain, but I wish I hadn’t, because it triggered the pressure to go off in my head. Only getting more intense, I screamed and cried as the seconds ticked by. I opened my eyes to see the room spinning as I fell on the floor. I squeezed them shut and rolled around. Matt had no mercy, and started kicking me anywhere he could. I felt jabs in my stomach, my chest, my back and my thighs. I screamed and screamed, more from the pain in my head than the pain everywhere else. I could feel blood running down my nose and in my throat caused by the pressure in my skull. He must’ve got down on his knees because I felt another punch in the face before everything went black. . . . When my consciousness returned, the pressure and pain in my head was gone. Unfortunately, though, the pain in the rest of my body was not. I couldn’t breathe out of my nose, so I moved my jaw around a little as I opened my mouth wider than it already was. Bad move. I groaned at the pain that came along with it. I tried opening my eyes, but it wasn’t working. My body felt like it was glued to the table. I wondered how long I’d been out. Was I still on the floor in the cafeteria? After a few more tries, I got my eyes to peel open just a little. Enough to see I was in a small-ish room with lots of different equipment. My neck wasn’t sore, so I turned my head to see Randall, Connor and Sam sitting in chairs to my right, against a wall. I smiled at them, and felt soreness in both of my cheeks. They were beat-up looking too, but not as much as I felt I was. Randall smiled back, lifting his hand to give me an “OK” sign, then a thumbs up. Sam slowly lifted his hand, too, and made the same pinching motion near his lips as he did in the lunch line. Then opened his palm upward and swung it while raising his eyebrows. I laughed a little. I tasted it, all right. He pointed at me, then pointed at himself and tapped his chest with his finger twice. I nodded. It could’ve been him had he gotten with that Hannah chick. He squinted his eyes and pointed at me again with a smile, and then he gave me a thumb up too, as if saying, “you did all right for someone who forgot how to fight.” A lady in baggy, floral print clothes came in. “Oh, good, you’re awake! How’re you feeling?” “Uh,” I said, my voice was gone, probably from all the screaming. “Pain,” I winced. “On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst, how bad is it?” she asked. “Like,” I tried, “like a six.” “Okay,” she said, and left the room. As soon as the door clicked shut, I said, “What the heck?” Connor laughed a little. “Aw, man, thank you for getting beat up, Locke,” he said. I looked at him, disbelieving what he said. “We got out of school ‘cause of you,” he said. “Yeah,” Sam started, “and Matt’s gotten suspended for three weeks.” “Too bad you’ll probably be recovering for that long instead of trying to get back with Miranda while he’s gone,” Connor laughed. I rolled my eyes. “You dislocated his jaw,” Randall said with a smile. “But he put you in the hospital,” Sam added. Randall looked at him. “If the poor kid remembered how to fight, you’d better believe Matt would be in the hospital,” he said. “But Locke wouldn’t have had to put him in the hospital because he would’ve remembered Miranda is a BIG, FAT BITCH,” Connor yelled. The lady came back in. “Here,” she said. “Swallow these.” She handed me a little, paper cup filled with water, and a few pills. “Thanks,” I said. She smiled, then left. “You and your afro need to calm down,” I told Conner. “Jew-fro,” Randall corrected. “Stocky,” he said to Randall. “Lanky,” Randall said back. “Are we five?” Sam asked. We all paused--then laughed. “What else?” I asked. “Oh, yeah, Principal Howard came over and tried to get Matt off of you, but got socked in the face!” Sam said. “By Matt?” I asked. “Yeah, the fricken moron,” Connor said. “It took, like, seven teachers to get the whole thing under control,” said Randall. “Pretty sure it was the best fight of the year,” Connor said. “Maybe it would’ve been better if I hadn’t blacked out,” I said. “Ohhh,” Sam said. “Is that what happened? I thought you were seriously getting beat up,” “He was,” Connor said, looking at Sam. “I’ve been getting these weird things,” I said, “where, I’ll be fine one minute, but then something will happen, and I hear buzzing, then ringing, then... It’s like, like, my head is a watermelon and someone is trying to squish it. It hurts like hell. I was screaming from the pain in my head,” “What triggers it?” Randall asked. “I think it’s just when I get worked up,” I said, unsure. “That’s weird,” Sam said. “I wonder if it’s ‘cause you hit your head all the fucking time,” Connor said. “Probably,” I said. I heard footsteps outside the door, and all of us shut up. We waited a few moments, but no one came in. “Hey, Locke,” Randall said. I looked at him. “You’re starting to act a little more like yourself.”