Teach Me to Forget

Jackson’s car isn’t as nice as Colter’s Escalade, and apparently Colter lives on the bumpiest street in all of Grand Creek. Janie is sitting in the front seat and she can’t stop looking over at Jackson, smiling. He’s doing the same. They’re enough to make me want to bash my head against the window, but I have to admit to being happy for Jackson. He should have someone who adores him like she does. And now that Janie and I have become friends, I’m happy for her, too.

They will have each other when I die. Something about that comforts me. They have each other. I can finally start to let Jackson go.

Colter’s house sits on a hill facing a lake. It’s not huge, but it’s big enough to have a three-car garage. A rusty-looking boat sits in the driveway with a grease-stained tarp thrown over it. Pumpkins sit on the porch (some carved, some not), rain-soaked ghosts hang on the trees, and Halloween decorations are plastered to the windows.

Halloween. It echoes in my mind. Halloween, Halloween. The notes go down an octave each time, ending with a tone so low, it resembles something unearthly.

We get out of the car and pass the soggy ghosts hanging from the large oak tree in the front yard. Orange and black lights are strung from the roof, dripping down in streams. Five cars are parked in front of the house already. We run, trying to avoid the slamming of the rain. I toss my hood over my head, but the rain is coming down so hard my left contact has moved to the back of my eyeball.

Nerves build in my body at the thought of so many people in one house. I really hope his mom isn’t here—the bitchy, take-no-prisoners district attorney who worked with my dad. The last thing I want to do is talk about him. Colter said she was away on a work trip, but that she was due home sometime today.

We make it to the front door. I work to dislodge my contact as Jackson knocks once. The door opens and a little brown-haired girl runs out, laughing, followed by another girl who looks exactly like her, but with blonde hair.

They look like drowned rodents within seconds.

“Retta, give them back!” the girl with the blonde ringlets says, chasing the brunette.

The blonde girl takes a leap and knocks Retta to the ground and their laughter echoes in the yard. I’ve always loved the sound of kids laughing. It never makes me want to cover my ears.

I turn back around, and Jackson and Janie have already gone inside. Colter’s standing in the doorway, watching me stare at the girls with a goofy smile on his face. I imagine it’s the same smile I had when Tate was running around the yard, chasing the neighbor’s dog, calling him Floofy even though his name was Max.

Colter cocks his head to the side, then yells, “Greta. Loretta. Get out of the rain, unless you want me to tell your mom that you both ate extra candy.”

Their little heads perk up and their eyes go wide. Their hair is stuck to their faces, and Loretta’s face is full of dark mud.

“Noooo!” Greta screams, running through the door. She hugs Colter around the legs and looks up at him. “You won’t do that will you, Uncle Cole?”

He looks as if he’s considering it when Loretta walks up to his side.

Loretta wipes a piece of wet hair out of her face and folds her arms across her chest. “He won’t tell, Greta. Because then we’ll have to tell her that he’s the one who gave it to us.” She gets this determined look on her face and I can’t help but smile.

“She’s got ya there,” I say.

He mouths Shut up to me with a smile building on his lips.

“You drive a hard bargain, Miss Loretta, but I’ll concede.”

“What does that mean?” Greta asks, unhooking her arms from him.

“It means he’s giving up,” Loretta says, confidently.

The girls run into the kitchen and I’m left staring after them, mouth agape.

“Wow, that Loretta’s going to be trouble.”

Colter attempts to wipe off Greta’s muddy handprints and turns to me. “No shit.” He shakes his head as if trying to get a memory dislodged. “Come on, we’re starting.”

I shake off the raindrops, finally get my damn contact in place, and follow him into the living room. It’s filled with people. I recognize a few from school. Dee, Kirstyn, a girl with red hair from their group.

I freeze when I see Phillip. I didn’t know he would be here. I try to slink out of the room unnoticed, but Colter grabs my arm before I can make an escape. A boy who looks suspiciously like Colter is sitting in the corner on a recliner, his legs folded under him. A younger woman is chasing Greta and Loretta through the living room, momentarily distracting Colter. An older golden retriever is curled up on the floor, oblivious to any of the commotion in the room.

“It’s okay. It’s not an execution,” Colter says, letting me go with a sweet smile.

“It feels like one,” I say under my breath.

I sit down on the floor in the corner. Jackson looks down at me and gestures to the chair beside him. I quickly hop into the chair and try desperately not to stare at Phillip.

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