"And then I purposely left you at the Diner without a ride, so you and Elijah would get to spend some time together. The rest was history."

Skylar smiled happily as if having abandoned me was her greatest achievement.

"Even though I don't remember that I am still mad at you for that."

I reached into the bowl of popcorn on my lap, looking down when my hand hit the bottom. At some point, the bowl had transferred to me, as Skylar had retold my own love story. To say it intrigued me was an understatement. Hearing it from her perspective was kind of intense.

"Hey, it was for a good cause. I had to make sacrifices so you guys would admit that you liked each other."

"Uh-huh."

I nodded my head as she sent me a sugary grin. I stood, heading towards the kitchen, and making a detour at the trashcan to throw away the kernels that had not popped. After placing the empty bowl in the sink, I made my way back into the living room, detouring to close the half-open blinds.

When I made it to the window, I looked outside, admiring the celestial luminescence of the crescent moon. The night was clear, and the stars exceptionally bright. By habit, my eyes landed on one in particular, but unlike all the times before, it wasn't my dad, who I thought of first.

The face that appeared in my mind caused me to shrink back, and I headed back over to the couch, sitting back down. My eyes flickered to the clock, before going to the taunting sport's bag that still sat unmoving by the door.

"What time did you say he was going to come to get his things again?"

Skylar's eyes widened slightly, acknowledging what I realized. A significant amount of time had passed, and he still hadn't arrived.

"He should be here any minute," she assured, checking her phone. Underneath the bluish hue from the light that the device emitted, a nervous wash of anxiety hit me when I saw her mouth tip downwards.

"What?" Skylar looked up, and her eyes gleamed with an expression I had never seen in her eyes before but knew far too well. Pity.

"Nevermind. He isn't coming tonight."

I had never run into a brick wall, but that was how I felt as the words landed among my ears. Gathering my bearings, I nodded, willing myself to believe that it wasn't for any other reason than the fact that he simply could not get it, and for no other reason.

"Okay," I said, nodding. "Well, I guess this entire memory jogging fiasco can wait until tomorrow or another day then right?" I asked, seeking reassurance and finding none in Skylar's eyes.

She shook her head slowly, and I gripped at the throw pillow on the couch.

"Hayden said he would get it tomorrow. Elijah isn't coming to get it."

"Did he say why?"

"He just said that Elijah called and told him he could not get it."

Releasing my death grip on the innocent plush pillow, I stood up. "You know I never thought about it, but what if he doesn't want to work at this," I voiced, placing my head on my hands and taking a deep breath, but feeling as if I couldn't get enough air.

"You don't know that for sure, so you shouldn't let the thought plague you," Skylar replied. I stared at the copper-toned curtains I had closed a few minutes before, her words not doing much to ease my doubts. "I know he hasn't reached out to you yet, but that doesn't mean you can't," she suggested, her pitch rising at the end, and drawing my attention. "Maybe he is waiting for you to reach out."

I dipped my head slowly, the possibility of her words being resonated. "Maybe, you are right."

"I usually am." An involuntary grin slipped on my face and she winked at me.

With a split's second decision, I snatched up my phone from the couch and pulled up the contact that held the first spot in my spine. With shaky fingers, I hovered over the message decal, before changing my mind and clicking the call button.

Skylar flashed her pearly teeth, holding her thumbs-up, and I held on to her encouragement as if she had physically offered her hand for me to hold. The sound of ringing echoed through the room, and my breathing quieted. When the noise repeated five more times, before a women's voice sounded, letting me know I had reached his voice mailbox, dejection bloomed, but I waited instead of hanging up immediately.

When the expected chime went off, I cleared my throat. "Hi, it's me, Rowan," I breathed. "I mean I am sure you already know that assuming that you still have my contact saved, but I just wanted to introduce myself just in case..."

I trailed off, meeting Skylar's eyes, and she signaled for me to take a deep breath. Doing just that, I closed my eyes before opening my mouth again.

"I am sorry for the rambling, but I was wondering if you wanted to meet up for lunch or maybe dinner." I paused, the hardest part of the call over with. "I wanted to talk about a few things if you are willing. You can call me back at this number. I thought we could meet up at the end of this week if that works for you."

With a quick press of a button, I ended the call and threw my phone down onto the couch as if it was a threat to my very existence.

"Well," I huffed after a few seconds of silence. "That wasn't so bad."

"Right. It wasn't." Skylar agreed, and I sent her a thankful smile. "Now I know exactly what we need," she continued, leaping up off of the couch. My eyes followed her retreating figure, before she disappeared, only emerging a few seconds later with a knowing grin and a leather disk case.

Skylar plopped back down onto the couch, flipping through the pages of movie discs, her lips pursed as she searched for the right one.

"I found it," she exclaimed enthusiastically, sliding a disc, whose identity was unknown to me out of the case. Cantering over to the television, she placed the movie into the small black player, patting the seat next to her when she sat back down onto the couch.

My curiosity fell away when I heard the familiar melodic tune of a movie I knew she was only watching for the attractive faux blond that stole the show despite playing only a supporting role.

"Come on, we all know that you could benefit from a night of watching Orlando Bloom, flaunt his gorgeous face while flexing his amazing archery skills." She fanned herself, letting her head fall dramatically on to the back of the couch in a fake swoon.

"What about Hayden," I laughed. "I thought he was the only man you had your eyes on."

"Oh, he is," she assured with a firm nod of her head. "But Orlando makes everyone feel better, so you are going to sit your but down, and watch him fight off hideous trolls with me." I raised my eyebrows, not knowing that she was on a first-name basis with the celebrity, but grinned with a shake of my head.

Her explanation of the movie told me she must have never paid attention to anything more than the actor's face when we had watched the movie in the past since she had totally botched the premise of the Lord of The Rings.

"He fights Orcs," I corrected, to which she rolled her eyes, shushing me.

"Whatever. You and I both know I only paid attention to one thing." I nodded in agreement as she grabbed the remote, pressing down on the play button and the movie started.

"You know if you wanted to just watch Orlando Bloom's face, then you should have put on Pirates of the Caribbean."

"Those movies suck."

I gasped, with feigned shock. "How dare you insult the best movies on Earth. I think I have to kill you now, and we all now that Dead men tell no-"

"I swear Rowan if you finish that sentence you will be the one telling no tales." I giggled closing my mouth and facing forward.

About half an hour had passed before I realized I had been so occupied with checking my phone, hoping to receive a call, that I hadn't watched a single minute of the movie. Giving in again, I glanced at the small screen, growing anxious when I noticed that there were no notifications.

With a sigh, I clicked the off button, tucking it underneath my thigh and training my attention on the screen. Despite my attempts, I wasn't able to focus however as my mind came up with all the scenarios for why he hadn't called back. It was one in particular that kept poking at the uncovered parts of my brain and eating away at my previous eagerness in contacting him.

What if I was willing to try to remember, but that wasn't what he wanted? What if I was to be forever stuck in this suffocating state of unknowing, while my brain played make-believe and my heart laughed at my misery?