Page 38 of Unforgettable

“Do you remember the first time we went to this place?” She asked between bites.

Of course I remembered it—I remembered every second I’d spent with Amanda because all of them were memorable.

I finished chewing a handful of curly fries and nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“Really?” she asked. Her tone was doubtful, and she cocked her head to the side like she was challenging me to prove how much I remembered it.

With a smug grin on my face, I refilled her champagne glass with the new chilled bottle on the table. That’s where most of my two-hundred-and-fifty-dollar budget had gone; to champagne and burgers, a classic combination.

“It was our sophomore year of college, and it was the first time you’d used your fake ID at Murphy’s.Andit was the first time you’d done shots, so it also turned out to be the night you got so drunk that you persuaded the band to let you on stage to sing Britney Spears,” I began, swelling with pride when Amanda’s doubt morphed into shock. “The seven of us stood at the very front and cheered you on while everyone else in the bar booed you to high heaven. God, and you were wearing this skintight black dress with red heels and Blakely gave you so much shit about being overdressed, but all I could think about all night was that you looked fucking fantastic. My little twenty-year-old brain couldn’t stand that you looked that good. And after you’d had enough and we sobered you up as much as we could, we went to Burger Joint to hopefully soak up the rest of the alcohol. That was when they were open at all hours of the night. Everyone else went home, but me, you, and Josh sat at a booth in the far back corner. I think we annoyed the shit out of almost everyone there since we couldn’t stop laughing.”

“You—you remember every single detail of that entire night?” She cautiously took another bite of her burger.

“Yes, I remember all of it.”

“I can’t believe you remember that whole night. I mean, you were drinking, too. That has to mess with your memory at least a little bit.”

I shrugged. “I remember nearly everything, babe.”

“What do you mean, everything?”

“I remember the important things.”

“So, you’re telling me that the first time we went to Burger Joint was important?”

“Every moment I’ve spent with you is important, so I remember almost all of it. I would say I remember everything, but you’re right—alcohol really changes memories. Time does that too, sadly.”

She pushed a few pieces of her curled hair behind her ear as her jaw dropped. She shifted in her seat, sitting up taller, her back pin straight. “That’s impossible.”

With my burger gone, I leaned back in my chair, propping my foot on my opposite knee, with my container of fries in my hand. “Do you want me to prove it to you? I can tell you exactly what you said when you sat down in our freshman biology class. Or what you were wearing on your first day of teaching, because I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you that excited. I could also probably tell you about every fight you had with your parents in the past several years because you’ve almost always confided in me about them. So, what do you want to start with?”

Mouth still agape, Amanda cleared her throat and tried to straighten in her chair even more. “I don’t need you to prove it to me. I already know you wouldn’t say that unless it was the truth. But I’m just surprised that you would remember all of that. That I’m that imp—”

“Important, yes,” I said, finishing her sentence for her as the word caught in her throat.

Several seconds passed and we just silently stared at each other across the table. No matter the pressure I felt in that moment, I didn’t look away from her eyes, which were bluer than a summer sky, for fear that it would all come crashing down around us. That she wouldn’t believe what I was saying. But she did, and I watched as the confusion morphed into understanding. Slowly she realized that the dates weren’t just some harebrained idea to continue getting in her pants or to keep me and Josh occupied. I saw when she recognized that we were serious, that I was serious. And I felt a little triumphant that I’d made the point I’d set out to at the onset of our date.

She was the first to break eye contact. She cleared her throat and fidgeted with the cloth napkin in her lap for something to do. “Did you know that I actually spent most of the rest of the night throwing up the burger and fries we ate? Blakely sat with me on the bathroom floor of our en suite the entire time, dabbing at my head with a wet washcloth.” Her tone was grim and sorrowful as she remembered a fond memory of a friend none of us had seen in several months. I opened my mouth to ask if she’d heard from Blakely or been able to contact her like she’d at one point been so diligently trying to do when Amanda plastered an attempt at a smile on her face and looked up at me. “It’s a wonder I can still eat them. Although I don’t remember much from that night after the two of you left me with her. I guess I was still drunker than I thought.”

I noted her effort to steer the topic away from our lost friend and decided a date was not the place to broach such heavy topics.

“Broccoli cheddar soup,” I offered instead.

Her brows furrowed in the cutest confused look, so I continued, “When I was a kid, I got this horrendous stomach bug—I was out of commission for a week, at least. I’ll spare you the gory details, but it was rough. My parents tried everything in the book to get me feeling better, but nothing was working. I couldn’t keep a lot down, but my dad actually made broccoli cheddar soup. Apparently his mom always made it for him when he was sick and it helped, so he thought he’d do the same for me. And thankfully, you’ve met and know my dad, so you know how out of character that is for him.”

She nodded, both in understanding that simple acts of care were few and far between for my father and in understanding that she likely knew where this was going.

“And since it was so out of character, I was going to try it no matter what. Even though I knew the second I smelled it, it wasn’t going to stay down for long. And sure enough, halfway through the bowl, everything I had managed to choke down came right back up. I haven’t been able to even smell broccoli cheddar soup since, and it’s been like twenty years.”

“I love broccoli cheddar soup,” she said while laughing. My anecdote had done the trick and moved the conversation back to less serious topics and replaced the forced smile on her lips with a genuine one.

“Yes, well, most people do. But it’s a no-go for me.”

“I couldn’t imagine having that reaction to a burger and fries. That would be tragic.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.”

“I’m surprised you even ate one, honestly. Even if it is a special occasion,” she teased, knowing that I tried to keep my diet as clean as possible since it was my job to lead others in a healthy, achievable lifestyle.

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