All morning, I'm feeling pretty dispirited.

Blaire notices this, especially when I stare off into space, and yet she doesn't pressure me to tell her what's troubling me. Instead, she attempts to get me smiling and laughing at her jokes.

Gradually, she succeeds.

"Let me take you out on a date. We can have a double cheeseburger and ice cream — my treat."

I finally break into laughter as I shove my books into the locker and turn to face her. She's leaning against the locker next to mine with her arms crossed and giving me her most serious look, but upon hearing my laughter, her lips twitch at the ends as she resists a smile.

"You're tempting me with food to go out with you," I say amusedly, "because you want a shopping date."

She waggles an eyebrow at me playfully. "And what's wrong with that? I've been begging you since forever, but you keep coming up with excuses not to. I can't believe it! How can anyone say no to shopping?"

Unconsciously, I place a hand over my covered arm. No one knows about this, not even Blaire. If we go out shopping together, there's a strong likelihood of her discovering my scar. "It's because you keep insisting on wanting to get me new clothes," I say. "I don't need them."

"You can't just live with oversized shirts, jeans and sneakers. Where are the tight dresses and shorts? The heels?"

Frowning, I glance down at my outfit. "What's wrong with my style? It's snuggly."

"But it's a waste of your pretty looks! You can do so much better. Girls only get to live their youth once!" she exclaims, before leaning in to study my features closely. "Imagine applying some eye shadow and mascara here... I think you'll be able to distract a bunch of guys and have them walk right into walls."

I shake my head in disbelief as she takes my arm, tugging at me with puppy eyes.

"Come on! Let's make a trade — go shopping with me and I'll accompany you to the party this Friday?"

I'm stunned. I haven't told her anything about Taylor's invitation and yet, she already knows. "How did you know I was going to ask you that?"

She rolls her eyes. "Of course, I've known Taylor far longer than you do and heard some stories about him," she shrugs. "I figured at some point, he would have invited you too. That's how he always is. He enjoys the attention so much that he invites the entire school. And knowing you, you will feel bad about turning him down but you don't wish to go alone, hence, you'll likely ask me along. Heck, even if you didn't tell me, I would have invited myself as your companion. This is a perfect excuse not to stay at home when my mom is bringing her boyfriend over again. Besides, the best part of the party is the free booze! Who would say no to that?"

Grinning, she shifts closer to me and nudges me lightly. "What do you say, Riley? It's a fair trade, isn't it?"

Her enthusiasm brings out the laughter in me again. "Alright, alright. I give up. Have it your way, Blaire."

A triumphant smile appears on her face. "Great, let's go shopping now."

"Now?"

"Yes, now."

"Alright, but...where?"

"Oh, I keep forgetting you aren't familiar with this town yet. There's a place where I would frequently go – the Central Plaza. That's where you'll find the best shops and cafes–"

Halfway through her sentence, a tall shadow falls over us. She scowls at whoever's standing behind me, and I immediately realize who it is—Kyle. When he comes into view, I tense up and watch his side profile nervously. The memory of our last conversation comes rushing back into my mind, filling me up with profound sadness.

His eyes flicker between the both of us oddly. I don't miss the way his gaze lingers on me a second longer, before he throws a look of annoyance at Blaire.

"Move away, Hernandez," he tells her. "You're leaning against my locker."

Instead of doing like he asked, she places her hands on her hips and lifts her chin in defiance. "I don't want to, Evans. What are you going to do to me? Hit me?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Ian's looking for you. Shall I call him to come over?"

Mentioning his best friend's name jolts my memory. That Ian is Blaire's ex-boyfriend. When Kyle pulls out his phone, taps on the screen, and lifts it to his ear, she panics.

"Hey! Don't do that, you ass—"

"Oh, will you look at that?" he deadpans. He stares at the spot behind us before lowering the phone in his hand. "There's Ian right there. I guess I don't have to call him after all."

Our heads turn at the same time and follow his line of sight. True to his words, Ian appears from the other end of the hallway, his lanky form heading towards us. Seeing this, Blaire loses all colors in her face. She takes my arm and is about to drag me away with her, but Kyle intercepts by grabbing me.

When she sees this, she gives him a glare. "What're you doing? Let go of Riley."

He seems unfazed. "I'm borrowing her for a while."

"Well," she snaps. "Did you even get her permission?"

He frowns deeply before shifting his attention to me, his expression softening. "Can I've a word with you?" he asks quietly, before adding on. "Alone."

I blink my eyes several times in surprise. This is the first time he's really looking at me properly ever since our last conversation, and I don't miss the urgent plea in his agonized eyes.

He wants to talk about yesterday.

Before I can nod my head, Blaire answers on my behalf. "You may not. Who're you to her? Riley is my best friend. Now, hands off of her."

"You're not her spokesperson. Why don't you take your hands away first?"

I watch them argue over my head. As the conversation goes nowhere, Kyle's grip on me tightens. Without taking his gaze off me, he yells for his friend.

"Ian!"

Blaire grows terrified. When she sees the said boy getting closer, she reluctantly releases me and tells me quickly, "I'll text you later."

Giving Kyle one last scowl, she scrambles off and vanishes into the crowd.

Seconds later, Ian appears by our side, clapping his friend's shoulder. He turns to stare at me and raises his brows in sheer curiosity when he notices the way Kyle is still holding onto me, like he's afraid I might run off any second.

It doesn't take Ian long to break into a friendly smile. "Hello there. I finally got to meet you, Riley. I've heard so much about you."

"Only the good things I hope," I say, but when I see him scratch the side of his face rather awkwardly, I give him a small, knowing smile. "Or, I guess not."

"Oh, it's not all that bad," he reassures me, before jabbing a thumb in Kyle's direction, who watches our exchange quietly. "I mean, if you made his days a living hell, it only goes to show how exceptional of a person you're–"

At this, Kyle finally speaks.

"Ian," he warns. "Don't you need to go after Hernandez?"

The boy holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Sorry, sorry. I'll get going. I really need to talk to her. That girl keeps avoiding me all the time. It was nice meeting you, Riley."

He gives us a short wave before hurrying off in the same direction where Blaire is last seen. I stare after his retreating figure, wondering how much he has heard about me. Unlike his best friend, he seems to be the opposite — cheerful, approachable and good-humored.

As if Kyle's reading my mind, he mutters in a voice so low that only I can hear him. "Don't worry," he assures me. "He knows a little about our past, but he doesn't know about your amnesia. I won't tell anybody about that."

I shoot him a grateful look and he glances away, pressing his lips together. Releasing my arm, he tosses his books into his locker. Once he's done, we stand facing each other with an awkward silence between us. Suddenly, neither one of us knows what to say to the other.

I'm the first one to speak up. "Kyle? What do you want to speak to me about?"

Before he can answer me, he takes a swift glance around us, glaring at every single stare we are receiving from the curious people around us. Taking my arm, he steers me to the school exit.

"Not here," he says. "Let's go elsewhere."

He leads me to his car, the same Black Ford that I was in the other day. When I get into the front seat, the car is neat like how it was previously. The air smells of lavender air freshener and faint aftershave. For a guy with a temper, Kyle certainly takes great care of his car and keeps his things relatively organized.

Once he gets into the driver's seat, he takes my bag and tosses it to the backseat, along with his own. As soon as I buckle up my seatbelt, the car pulls away from school and down the streets. I study him from the corner of my eyes warily, feeling more nervous than afraid of him.

Today, he seems less menacing. The muscles in his jaw are less tense and his eyes lack the usual fiery in them. He's a lot calmer now, but from experience, that doesn't mean it will last long.

Without taking his eyes off the road, he talks to me with a hint of amusement in his tone. "I know I'm good-looking, but aren't you tired of staring at me all day long?"

My cheeks redden. I tear my gaze away and stare down at my hands on my lap, chewing on my bottom lip. In a quiet voice, I ask him. "Are you still angry with me?"

He's surprised and muses for a couple of seconds. "No," he answers truthfully. "And this is what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm sorry about yesterday."

His sudden apology stuns me. As I register his words, we soon arrive at the harbor. He parks the car in a space, one that opens the view to the vast, blue ocean before us, dotted with boats in little specks of white. Above us, the sun sneaks a peek through a wall of puffy clouds, casting gray streaks across the calm waters.

"Why are you suddenly apologizing to me?" I ask.

Kyle glances in my direction, looking regretful. "I shouldn't have left you behind like that after saying those things."

"It's understandable. You've every right to be angry with me."

"But I went overboard," he admits. "Truth to be told, ever since our last conversation, I went back home to clear my head and thought things over. I wanted to know more. I did some research and used my father's connections. In the end, I found an article that mentions a car crash involving a mother and a daughter. Your names weren't mentioned, but the hospital that they admitted you to still holds some records of you. It confirms everything that you've told me is nothing but the truth."

"An article?" I repeat in disbelief. "Are there any pictures? Will you show me the crash site? Maybe if I were to look, I might remember something."

Kyle startles me by looking almost angry. "No. I will not let you see it. It might do more harm to you than good. How could you even suggest such a ridiculous idea?"

My head drops and I shrink into my seat. "What about us? What am I supposed to do?"

He hears the crack in my voice and sees the distress in my features. "Riley," he says in a much softer voice this time. "You don't have to force yourself to regain your memories or remember the reason for our breakup."

My face scrunches up in confusion. "I don't understand. Isn't that what you would have wanted? It's the reason you've been angry with me for so long, because you wanted an answer. A proper closure to what has happened between us."

Kyle doesn't answer right away. He stares at me in a way that makes my stomach tingle and my knees weak. His eyes are full of conviction and tenderness, a sight that threatens to melt my heart into a puddle.

"What if I change my mind and I don't want closure?" he reveals slowly. "What if I say I don't want you to remember? Because right now, I want to keep you by my side."