Amnesia (Amnesia #1)

“What’s that?”

“A tiny place near the lake that has the best lobster rolls in the entire state.”

“I don’t know if I like lobster.”

“You have to like lobster, Am. This is Maine.”

“Okay, Lobster Shack it is.” She agreed.

“You’re a cheap date,” I teased, hopping down off the porch.

“This is a date?” she echoed, pausing on the steps.

I could have backtracked and told her I was teasing. I should have.

I really didn’t want to. Stepping close, her eyes were near level with mine since she was on the stairs and I was at the bottom. “Do you want it to be?” I murmured.

“I-I’m not sure.”

I tucked her hair behind her ears, leaned in, and pressed a kiss against her mouth. “It’s not a date, then,” I said, taking her hand.

When I stepped back, tugging her along, she wouldn’t budge. Glancing back around, I lifted a brow.

“Do I get a goodnight kiss if it’s a date?”

“Oh yes.” I promised.

“Then I want it to be a date.”

I smiled. And smiled some more.

“I like your dimples,” she confessed.

My heart turned over. “I like everything about you, Am.”

“Cross your heart?” she asked.

She had no idea what she did to me.

“Hope to die,” I murmured.

The smile that graced her face was enough to charm ten men. But it was entirely directed at me.

“C’mon, then, Eddie.” She laughed, rushing down the stairs, pulling me along with her. “We have a date to finish.”

Oh, Amnesia. I’ll never be finished with you.





When he said he was taking me to the Lobster Shack, I really didn’t think it was going to be an actual shack.

But it was.

Guess I was a cheap date.

A date. My first date. I kind of liked having all these firsts again. I had a feeling these firsts were way better than any of my original ones. This had been a good day so far—no, actually the best day I’d had since waking from the coma.

I wasn’t about to let some ladies whispering in the general store ruin it for me. So I shoved their hushed words to the back of my mind and got lost in Eddie’s dimples, his curly hair, and the tour he gave me of Lake Loch.

The Lobster Shack sat near Main Street, but not on it. It was perched closer to the lake, an actual four-walled shack in the middle of a grassy patch. The sound of the water, the rustle of the wind in the too-tall grass was all that was around, but you could see Main Street from its location.

Outside, there were large pots where they cooked the lobster, a couple big tanks (without fish), and a few other things scattered about. The building was white, weathered, and the roof was pitched. Perched on top of the triangular roof was a giant red lobster, and in its claw was a sign that read: Shack.

The air around us was tinged with the smell of fish, something I wasn’t sure I liked.

Grinning, Eddie caught my hand and towed me toward the door. “I’m telling you, Am. Best lobster rolls in the state.”

“What’s a lobster roll?”

He jerked to a stop and abruptly spun to face me. “Stick with me, kid. You have a lot to learn.”

I laughed. “That wasn’t an answer.”

“You’ll see.” He wagged his eyebrows and tugged me inside.

“Eddie!” a man yelled the second we stepped in the door.

“Frank!” Eddie yelled back. “We’re here for the rolls.”

“Ahh, this must be the infamous Amnesia,” Frank said, stepping out around the crudely made counter. He was a large man with a big white apron tied around his clothes. He had a hat on with (surprise) a big lobster in the center. Surprising me, Frank grabbed me by the shoulders and looked me over. “Ya look good, kid,” he said.

Seemed like an odd thing to say.

“Um, thanks?” I said.

He laughed and pulled me in for a hug. Shocked, my eyes went right to Eddie. He winked.

“A few rolls coming up!” Frank announced, retreating behind the counter.

I slid over to Eddie’s side. Casually, he draped an arm around my waist.

Frank worked quickly, pulling out some rolls (that kind of looked like hotdog buns but were squarer) and then stuffed them with some kind of mixture, which I assumed contained lobster. When he was done, he packed them all in a white cardboard box and closed it up.

After placing it in a plastic bag, he added two bags of chips and two bottles of water.

“You’re all set,” he told us.

Eddie handed over some cash and picked up the sack.

We carried the food away from the shack toward the lake and settled between Main Street and the water in a patch of grass that wasn’t overly long. We had a good view of the water from where we sat because we were on a hill that sloped down to the shoreline.

“So,” I said, tucking the dress around me and reaching for a bag of chips. “Tell me about the Loch Ness.”

“You’re so sure there’s a legend of the Loch here, aren’t you?” Eddie asked, taking out the box filled with lobster rolls.

“Isn’t that why you picked the picture for your store logo? And why else would this place be called Lake Loch?”

“Technically, it’s Lochlain after the man who founded this town.” Eddie corrected. “But we all just call it Lake Loch, and yeah, there’s been some sightings of the infamous Loch Ness.”

“I knew it!” I squealed, leaning forward, ready for the details. “I need the deets.”

Eddie laughed. “It’s just stories, just like all the rumors about Rumor Island.”

“Most stories are based off a single truth,” I rebutted, sticking a chip into my mouth and crunching it.

“How do you know?” he teased.

I shrugged. “Everyone knows that.”

The sound of his low laugh drifted on the wind and wrapped around me. I loved being here like this with him, with the sun on my face, the wind in my hair. These chips were pretty tasty, too.

“Back after this town was established, it was mostly known as a fishing town because the lake is so large. A lot of people came here to fish, but eventually, the stock began to dwindle. One night after a long day of fishing, one of the older residents came in from the water, ranting and raving about finally knowing why there was suddenly no fish.”

“It was the Loch Ness,” I said, my eyes going wide.

He flashed his teeth. “So he says. He got everyone all whipped up in a frenzy over a possible monster living in the lake and stealing their livelihood. So he got together a small hunting party to go find the creature.”

“And they never found it?” I said, let down. For some reason, I loved the idea of a giant creature living in the depths of the lake. And why couldn’t there be? If I could have my entire mind wiped and no one claim to know me, then why couldn’t there be a Loch Ness?

“Actually, no. Well, kind of.”

Reaching for another chip, my interest grew. I gestured for him to keep talking, and his eyes gleamed.

“Only one man came back. He was dirty and dehydrated and clearly out of his mind. He ranted about the monster and how they found it, but instead of them killing it, it killed everyone but him.”

“Oh, that’s terrible!” I said. “They never saw those other men again?”