Amnesia | Dylan O'Brien

30

———

"Cam?"

I move closer to her and place my hands on top of hers which were tangled in her hair. Her grip loosens and I make sure to remove her hands without pulling any hair. "What's wrong? Is it the thunder be-"

"Dylan!" I feel her tense up. "It's not the thunder. I'm not scared of stuff like that." Of course it's not the thunder. I of all people should know that.

"Then what? What is it?" I softly ask, confused by what could be wrong. She slowly lifts her head from her knees and only then can I see the pain in her eyes.

"Do you know the reason why half the time I can't sleep?" She looks at me with watery eyes, tears threatening to spill.

"Wh-"

"You know what I mean, Dylan!" She exclaims. "Do you?" Her face becomes frustrated but then quickly calms down. I shake my head as my response. "It's all this amnesia stuff." She sighs. "That's why they won't let me drive... because most nights I get this constant pain in my head. It's worse than a migraine and it's like every thought I have bashes against the wall of my brain." A single tear escapes her eye, rolling down her cheek. I hold up the side of my index finger and wipe it off as she looks at me.

"So the phone calls?" I ask her.

"The phone calls, they take my mind off the pain. Because the pain is usually not being being able remember you. Talking to you eventually stops them." I stare carefully into her eyes. "And they help you get sleep too." She cups my cheek with her hand and gently uses her thumb to feel the skin underneath my eyes. I softly smile, wanting nothing more than to kiss her.

But I can't.

She slips her hand into mine and I help her to stand up. We walk over to the bed and I lie on top of the covers, patting the area next to me. She mirrors my position and lays down next to me, our shoulders touching.

"If talking helps, then talk." I say.

———

(CAMILLA's POV)

My alarm wakes me up. I groan and turn to the side to press snooze.

"Don't." The voice makes me jump as I nearly fall off the bed in shock. I turn to see Dylan. We must've fallen asleep talking about random things.

"Why not?" I turn back the alarm to try and cover up the fact that I may be slightly blushing. At some point in the night he must've taken his shirt off.

"Because we have to get up for school." He replies.

"What made you so eager for school?" I laugh. Waiting for a response, I hear muffles come from his mouth. My eyes glance to his lips for the tiniest second. "Suit yourself." I get out of bed and stretch my limbs.

"I'll have to go back to mine and change my clothes." He says. I look over at him and quietly laugh to myself as his eyes are shut and one of his hands is behind his head, the other resting on his chest. He opens his eyes and grins at me looking at him before I quickly break eye contact. "I'll pick you up in 20 mins." He gets out of bed and rubs his face while running his fingers through his hair. "I'll see you in a bit." He walks over to me with his eyes half open and plants a kiss on my cheek. I smile and look away, feeling my cheeks heat up. He winks before walking out of my bedroom door. He definitely knows what he's trying to do.

I grab the first clothes I find: a pair of grey ripped jeans and a black fluffy jumper. I get my bag and walk downstairs.

"Hi mom." I smile. She hands me a piece of toast. "Thank you!"

"So Dylan stayed last night?" She asks. I nod. "Be careful please, with what you do." She looks at me with serious eyes.

"It's fine." I reply.

"No, it's not. You have to be careful that you don't put too much pressure on yourself to remember. You can't force them out."

"I know that." I finish my toast.

"Have you been taken many painkillers recently?"

"Yes." I sigh. "Whenever I think about it." She frowns. "I'm trying." I hear Dylan's jeep beep from outside. "Dylan's here." I send my mom a smile. I shut the front door and walk to Dylan's car.

"Hey." He says as I sit down, his eyes on his phone.

"Hey." I put my seatbelt on. I look forward, waiting for Dylan to start the car. After a couple minutes of silence I turn to him, his fingers tapping away on his phone.

"Who's keeping you busy?" I ask, quietly laughing. He carries on typing, not acknowledging my question. I reach my hand up and flick his ear.

"Ow." He says, flinching.

"Are you listening?" I ask.

"Sorta." He laughs. I look at the time on my phone.

"We're going to be late." I flick him again as he turns away. "Who are you texting?" I laugh.

"Amy." He says, cocking his head in my direction but with his eyes still on his phone.

"Amy from lunch?" I ask, remembering her name. He nods. I notice the corners of his mouth tug into a slight smile as he reads the screen.

My heart sinks. I feel so pathetic.

How could I not think that he might be interested in someone else? It's been months and I haven't remembered anything about him, why am I surprised that he might not want me anymore.

And how did I not see it? The way that the strawberry blonde girl looks at him across the table. But I can't blame him. I got into a whole relationship with someone else. I put him through so much pain that I can't blame him for liking someone else.