“It’s very loud, Victoria.” He stared down at his shoes.
I waited for him to look at me. “Adam,” I said. “It’s okay. I’m right here. We’re going to be fine, you hear me? Fine.” I squeezed his hand even though we’d already established that he couldn’t feel it. It just seemed like the human thing to do. “Everything is going to go perfectly smoothly. I promise.” I scanned the room. Yes, Adam had a bit of a sallow, haunted effect going on, but underneath it he was actually quite attractive. In an obvious, traditional way, too, with long lashes and nice teeth. In the halls of Hollow Pines High, good looks alone were powerful currency.
He let me hold his hand. “Victoria.” He said my name with such devotion and with no purpose other than he seemed to like the sound of it. A piece of my heart chipped off and clattered down until it caught somewhere between my rib cage and belly button.
“Adam,” I said back. The first bell rang. Students piled in on top of one another, but I stared into Adam’s eyes for another moment longer. “Adam,” I repeated, and I felt his hand relax under my palm.
When the moment broke, Owen and I led the way to a long row of orange lockers. I searched the numbers emblazoned at the top for his until I found it.
“Here it is,” I said, pounding my fist on number 42. “Your locker. If you ever need either me or Owen and you can’t get ahold of us, meet us here, okay? We’ll come find you.”
Adam surveyed the hall. I retrieved the combination lock Mrs. Van Lullen had given him and read the combo off a slip of paper. “60-28-63. Can you remember that?” Considering I was dealing with a boy with no memory, my hopes weren’t high. “You can keep this sheet for a while,” I said.
Adam peered at the dial. “60-28-63,” he repeated.
Owen and I shared a look.
“60-28-63,” Adam said again.
“Okay,” Owen said. “Well, at least we know his neurons aren’t totally fried.”
I noted the marked improvement, then opened Adam’s new locker and started putting some of his paperwork inside. “We can decorate your locker if you want,” I said. “You know, if it’ll make you feel more at home.”
“Hi there.” I twitched at the sound of another familiar voice. “Adam, right?” She extended a hand. “I’m Cassidy Hyde. I was at the table over there.” She pointed over her shoulder. “My friend Paisley gave you that calendar.” Cassidy laughed at this and shook her head, continuing to ignore Owen and me as if we were a pair of misplaced furniture. “Anyway, I’m number 41. Looks like we’re neighbors.”
“I don’t live here,” Adam said.
Her forehead wrinkled and she cocked her head, then laughed. “Funny.” She turned her own combination lock. “And athletic. Rare combination.”
I didn’t bother to hide my scowl. I wanted to unhook her manicured nails from Adam and toss her across the room. Because even though Adam’s brain had been busted, his eyes seemed to be working just fine.
So did Owen’s for that matter. Cassidy Hyde watched her carbs. She did cardio outside of gym class. She carried a compact mirror and had a signature scent and signed her name in bubbly letters. Her aspirations consisted of being elected to Homecoming court and becoming Miss Texas. Not that I cared, but it seemed ridiculous for her to get so much attention for correctly applying eyeliner while I was slaving for a Nobel Prize. That was the thing about high school. They gave away prizes for who could be the least interesting.
The funny thing, though, was that Cassidy actually used to be kind of fat. When her family moved to Hollow Pines in seventh grade, she had these chunky moon pie cheeks and sausage fingers. Kids used to call her Princess Butterball when she wasn’t listening. I didn’t know if Paisley took a Xanax that day or if she just wanted someone to look better than, but Cassidy eventually worked her way into the in crowd and shed a few pounds until she fit right in with the popular kids. Secretly, I thought this pissed off Paisley. Not that she could say so now. When it came to the popular kids, I fancied myself a sort of behavioral zoologist that looked for patterns and natural hierarchy. Like just last year, the senior boys voted Cassidy hottest ass in the sophomore class. Personally, I’d rather be shot than receive an honor for the two bulbs of fat located on my backside, but I guess for girls like Cassidy that kind of thing was a big deal.
“Can I see your schedule?” She held out her hand.
Adam tentatively handed it to her. “I have English and PE with Victoria.”
She peered up at me through her eyelashes. “How nice.”
I cleared my throat as Cassidy was circling the classes she shared with Adam. “Adam, we really need to show you to your class,” I said.
“Oh, I can take him.” So now I existed. “We’re in history together.”
I offered a tight smile. A vision of Adam co-opted by Paisley, Cassidy, and their circle of bobble heads flashed before my eyes. My Adam. I created him. “It’s okay. I promised his mother.”