The Nostalgics

Math

I'm not the best at math, although I pass the class somehow. But I know this; me + Matthew doesn't equal this cliché love story of two people that were very in love then lived happily ever after. That isn't this story. This is my story. It's going to be complicated as shit (hey, just like math) and it's going to be one of the best you hear, I hope.

No, I wasn't in math class. I was in English. I was typing up my essay that's worth 50% of our grade. Halfway though the class, Matthew hands me his notebook, signaling he wrote me a note:

Can I stay the night at your house? Things... are happening at home. Please, I'll be your cuddle buddy ;)

I just blushed and nodded as I continued working on my english paper. But somehow, I couldn't find the movement in my fingers to type — like somehow someone had froze my fingers and mind and time period; because all that was on my mind was the perfect movie of the not-so perfect girl laying next to the perfect guy sleeping in the most innocent sense of phrase. And when they awoke, she read out loud her other favorite book — that didn't remind her so much of him; Looking For Alaska. He'd never wanted to read a John Green book since he watched The Fault In Our Stars, which merely came out when they were still in 8th grade. He thought it was cliché and boring and idiotic. While I on the other hand thought it was an amazing journey of falling in love with someone that you know is going to die, because they were already slowly dying. But, then again, he didn't see the entire beauty of the story. Had he read the book, maybe his mind would change. I laughed to myself, being reminded he'd never change his mind, even if he had time to.

The rest of the class period went by quickly for me as my head was fogged with the idea of Matthew and I actually working out as a couple. Shit, we didn't even work as friends.

He remembered her laugh, only briefly. He smiled to himself hearing the beautiful sound, triggering a beautiful memory:

They were in kindergarten. She was sitting on the swing and looking down sadly. He walked up to her, slowly taking a seat on the other swing. He kept trying to make her laugh by "accidentally" falling off each time he would swing his feet. He heard that laugh and his world just brighten up. Of course he was too young to understand but he knew that everything changed.

This gave him a nostalgic kind of feeling; missing her touch, her voice, her smile, her body, and everything about her.

The thought him hating the book gave her a nostalgic feeling; missing his touch, his voice, his smile, his body, and everything about him.

She ran out of the classroom immediately after the bell rang, dropping her black notebook. He stared at the book for a second, feeling his heart race as he slowly picked it up.

It's the book, that's what Jace was talking about! He said there is one way I could know her without actually taking action. I mean — I talked to he last year. But she could change so much in just one year. I've learned that.

He swallowed after his last thought. He took the book in his hands and slowly opened the first page.

I woke up the next morning around 8 and immediately checked my phone for messages from him. One. One telling me about some shit with him and his girlfriend. He gave me shit after everything we'd done, everything we talked about. Everything I'd done for HIM. Turning down Jace for HIM. He crushed it. I was pissed. Extremely sad and pissed. My phone rang and I picked it up. I dropped the phone after the person on the other end spoke.

The air in my lungs disappeared and the world faded out as I panted rapidly. My anxiety slowly kicked in, sending me to overdrive. I fell to the ground as my vision blurred and my brain pounded against my skull. I cursed loudly and slowly said his name, as quiet as a mouse before the Earth disappeared and I was pulled into darkness.

He kissed the dark skinned girl with pale green eyes. She was beautiful — he thought — she's not her. He stopped as his phone rang. His eyes lit up, thinking it was her.

"Hello?"

"Is this Matthew Sanchez?"

"This is he, and who exactly are you?"

"This is Memorial Hospital, um Ms. Amnesia Vernan has told me to call you. She has been asking for you for a couple hours but we told her that no visitors were aloud. But please come here for this girl, her mother has just passed away and she had a major panic attack. Please Mr. Sanchez."

My heart was racing at the thought of my Amnesia being all alone. She had no one besides me and Jace. And I fucked it all up again. I took advantage of the fact that she's always been in love with me. She's always been there but no I had to pull her away from her shitty little life, make it less shitty, and leave.

I grabbed my keys and headed down to my car, not even telling that other girl why I left, just told her to leave.

Amnesia

He walked in, looking down with his hood on. He looked at me, stared into my eyes. What did I do to get him? I smiled, a sad smile, and my eyes filled with tears.

"You're so beautiful."

I frowned. No. No. No.

"What did you do?" a tear slips.

"Nothing."

"What did you do?" another slips.

"Matthew what the fuck did you do?"

"I kissed Amber..."

"Why now?"

"I didn't know what happened to you and I hate showing my feelings and—"

" But, you don't give people that you don't love he power to break you."

"Amnesia it was just a kiss."

"Look into my god damn eyes and tell me it was just a kiss."

He leaned over, a little bit too close, looking into my dark green eyes as his eyes turned into a combination of dark brown and light brown.
"It was just a kiss." He lied.

I pushed him away and yelled angrily to get out. He didn't realize I know everything about him. I remembered every fucking detail about him. I remembered the way he'd love when I petted his hair until he fell asleep after his parents fought. I remembered the way his voice was so god damn sexy when he woke up shirtless in my tiny bed. I remember every time I went to his house his mom would make him "sleep on the floor" and give me some of his clothes (we both slept on the bed and he wore boxers and I wore his dirty shirt and some of his boxers.) But no, he had to lie. He just had to.

Matthew

I held the notebook tightly in my hands, her words replaying in my head: "But you don't give people you don't love the power to break you."

I sat back into my car and started driving. I didn't even have to pay attention really. I knew where I was going by instinct. I somehow got there within 10 minutes, either I was speeding or I am officially a fucking crazy driver. I knew exactly where I was when I smelt the salty-sea air. Newport Beach. God damn isn't there so many memories here. Like when Amnesia, or Ameshia as I called her, and I were 14 and I asked her why her parents named her Amnesia. She said she didn't know but she had her own meaning of her name:

"My name is a disorder that happens to make you forget the things your brain wants you to forget. I love it but I somehow fear someone will get amnesia and forget about me."