Page 18 of Amnesty

Instead, her eyes turned down, her voice remained silent.

“The town was really divided after Sadie… Some hated me; some hated Robbie… and some hated both of us,” I told her.

“My parents almost moved us out of here,” Robbie added.

“But they didn’t?” Amnesia asked.

He rubbed his palm over the short buzz cut on his head. “No. This place was home. And I had to face what I did.”

“We started getting in fights at school. The teachers would have to break us up.”

Robbie’s face held a ghost of a grin. “We spent a lot of time in the principal’s office that first year.”

I chuckled. “Sure did.”

“But you’re friends now,” Amnesia said, trying to understand how we got here.

“The day of our last fight, our dads were called in to pick us up. The principal had suspension papers in her hands, but our dads had a different idea.”

Robbie grinned and picked up the story. “They brought us out here to the annual fall paintball course, bought us a shit ton of paintballs, and told us to hammer each other.”

“What?” Amnesia gasped.

Robbie and I grinned at the memory. “Two scrawny, pissed-off teenagers mad at everyone and especially each other…”

“We went at it,” Robbie mused. “I had bruises for a month.”

“Me, too.” I reminisced.

“So you became friends again by shooting each other a million times with paintballs?” Amnesia wondered as though she were walking through the twilight zone.

“It was a start.” Robbie nodded.

“Halfway through our war, these guys came into the field and came at us. We had no choice but to work together—either that or get our asses handed to us.”

Robbie chuckled.

“What happened?” Amnesia asked.

“We held them off, and by the time we were done, we realized we made a better team than enemies.”

“And we weren’t so different after all. Both of us felt hella guilty for what happened that night. We both wished we could change what happened.”

“So now you come play paintball every fall… to remember.” Amnesia surmised, understanding in her tone.

I showed my teeth. “That and to hammer each other. Our dads were pretty smart,” I said.

“Amnesia.” Robbie spoke, drawing all her attention. She stepped forward, away from me, fully focusing on my friend. “I, uh… I just want to say I’m sorry. It’s not enough, but…” He laid a hand over his chest, and I swallowed. I felt what he was feeling. So many times. That tightness in the chest was one of the most crippling feelings I’d ever known. “I have to say it. I regret that night so much. I know I said I wasn’t sure if you’re her or not, but on the chance you might be… please know I never meant for anything bad to happen.”

Amnesia made a sound, as though his apology really meant something to her, and she pushed forward and wrapped her arms around him.

Robbie looked surprised at first, his eyes firing up to mine. I nodded, and he hugged her back.

“It’s not your fault,” she said, stepping back. Her arm stretched out behind her, her fingers seeking mine. I tangled ours together, and she smiled. “I don’t think it’s either of your fault what happened that night. And I honestly think Sadie believes the same.”

After a beat of silence, Robbie announced, “Paintball is some damn therapeutic shit.”

Am looked up at me, and I smiled. I kissed her forehead. I didn’t think she understood exactly what she’d given both Robbie and me just then, but it was monumental.

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