For a brief, terror-stricken/ heart-leaping moment, I thought that he might be putting the pieces together and remembering, but then Rourke spoke and Daryl shook his head.

He looked away.

My heart sank.

Maybe Mercy was right and this party was a terrible idea, but he was like crack to me. Spending time with him was a prospect I couldn’t turn down, no matter how hard common sense tried to tell me otherwise. I was too invested in seeing this through.

"Are we still on for the party at your place tonight?" Rourke asked, fixing his blue eyes on me.

Say no, Molly.

Say no, dammit.

Get out of this.

You're going to be responsible for breaking your own heart.

"Sure," I replied with a smile.

2 Daryl

Have you ever known someone for so long that your time together blurs? Like you don’t know where you start or where they end, but know that you've never spent a day of your life without that person in it?

Yeah, I had that once.

For ten years.

And then I lost it.

Because I forgot.

I forgot to remember her…

It started off like any other Thursday.

I woke up, worked out, ate breakfast, and went for a swim. I went to football practice, showered, and dragged my ass to class. I joked with the guys and flirted with the girls. I snoozed my way through most of my classes, ate lunch with my team, prepped for tonight's game with coach, and made plans to party afterwards.

Just a typical Thursday.

Nothing was different.

And then just like that, everything changed.

Struck fucking dumb, I had listened as what started out as an innocent conversation with my best friend about our plans for the night had morphed into a life-altering reality check.

"…Her name is Molly Peterson. She went to school with us until the third grade. You have the worst fucking memory, Daryl. She's the one whose mom and brother burned in that house fire when we were younger… Dude, she came back Sophomore year…"

Two words.

One name.

A lifetime of memories.

Rourke had dropped the bomb that I was sure was about to detonate and cause my world to implode around me.

Everything that was said since his revelation had gone clean over my head.

I couldn't register the words coming out of Rourke's mouth when we walked to my truck after school and climbed inside.

I couldn’t concentrate on a damn thing at all, which was probably why I almost pummeled both girls with my truck.

Even now, as I watched the girls pull out of their parking spot and join the line of traffic trying to exit the school, I couldn’t think straight.

My focus was locked on the blonde in the passenger seat of the convertible.

Jesus Christ.

She was back.

And I never realized.

I was seeing her now, though, and it cut like a knife.