“No. You bought it last year,” I reminded her. “You wore it six months ago, right before spring break. It was April fifteenth and it was a Friday, the day we went on a field trip to see the play of Fiddler on the Roof.”

Piper’s mouth fell open. She pulled away so fast, I thought she might topple over. “What are you, some kind of stalker? Do you, like, take pictures of everything I wear and write it in your stalker diary?”

Megan snorted. “Good one, Piper. Lulu’s stalker diary.”

Several girls giggled and whispered behind their hands. My face burned hotter than the asphalt outside. Olivia saved me. She put both hands on her hips and rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. Lulu’s hopeless with clothes. We all know that. It’s a compliment that she wanted to copy you, Piper. And we all know you’ve worn that sweater before. It’s too cute for any of us to forget, duh.”

Piper flipped her hair and sniffed. “I don’t know if you want to hang out with a stalker, Olivia. What will everyone think? They might think you’re a stalker too.”

Megan and the others nodded and turned their backs on me. Olivia linked her arm though mine and walked toward the playground, but she kept looking back at Piper and her gang.

I knew then that I had to keep my memory a secret. I’d be a weirdo, a stalker, a complete outsider if anyone found out. So I shut down my memory as much as I could, and what I couldn’t shut down I kept to myself. I didn’t even tell Olivia. I know she’d never make fun of me, but being popular is important to her. She cares what other girls, especially Piper, think of her. Would she still be friends with me if she had to choose between us? Maybe. But I didn’t want to take that chance.

So I told no one until Gram.

But now there’s no more holding my memory back. I can feel it, like something charged with electricity sparking in my brain. What if people find out? What if no one will ever talk to me again? What if Olivia decides I’m too weird to hang around with?

Max looked at me like I was a freak when I remembered where the van was. Although, to be fair, that’s how he usually looks at me. I can only imagine how much he’d tease me if he knew the whole truth. It would be worse than when he teased me for a whole month after I wore the wrong riding boots. Or the time I put Remy’s halter on wrong. Or when I forgot to tighten my saddle and nearly fell off. Max’s laugh is the reason I double-check my saddle to this day.