Never Never: Part Three (Never Never #3)

It was our the night we broke up. What happened between us just a matter of a week or so ago. I want nothing more than to scoot over and read the rest of it with her, but instead, she tells Landon she has to pee.

He pulls over at a gas station about an hour from the prison. Janette remains in the car and Charlie sticks by my side as we enter the store. Or maybe it’s me who sticks by her side. I’m not sure. The desire to protect her hasn’t left me at all. If anything, I’ve become more involved. The fact that I remember everything from the last two—almost three—days has made it harder for me to forget that I’m not supposed to know her. Or love her. But all I can do is think about the kiss from this morning—when we thought we weren’t going to remember each other when it was over. The way she allowed me to kiss her and hold her until she wasn’t Charlie anymore.

It took all I had not to laugh when she pretended she knew her name. Delilah? Even without her memory, she’s still the same, stubborn Charlie. It’s amazing how a few pieces of her personality still shine through today just as they did last night. I wonder if I’m at all similar to who I was before all this started?

I wait for her until she emerges from the restroom. We walk to the refrigerated cases of drinks and I begin to reach for a water. She grabs at a Pepsi and I almost catch myself telling her that I know she prefers Coke based on something I read in one of the letters yesterday, but I’m not supposed to remember yesterday. We take our drinks to the register and set them down.

“I wonder if I even like Pepsi?” she whispers.

I laugh. “That’s why I got water. Playing it safe.”

She grabs a bag of potato chips from a display and places them on the counter for the cashier to scan. Then she grabs a bag of Cheetos. Then a bag of Funyuns. Then Doritos. She just keeps piling chips onto the counter. I’m eyeing her when she glances over at me with a shrug. “Just playing it safe,” she says.



By the time we return to the car, we’re carrying ten different bags of chips and eight different types of sodas. Janette shoots Charlie a look when she sees all the food. “Silas is really hungry,” she says to Janette.

Landon is seated behind the wheel, his knee bouncing up and down. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel and says, “Silas, you remember how to drive, right?”

I follow his gaze and see two police cars pulled over on the side of the road in front of us. We’ll have to pass them to get out, but I’m not sure why this is making Landon nervous. Charlie is no longer missing, so we have no reason to be paranoid of the police.

“Why can’t you drive?” I ask him.

He turns around to face me. “I just turned sixteen,” he says. “I only have a permit. I haven’t applied for my license yet.”

“Great,” Janette mutters.

In the grand scheme of things, driving without a license isn’t really a priority on my list of things to worry about.

“I think we have bigger issues than getting a ticket,” Charlie says, voicing my thoughts aloud. “Silas doesn’t need to drive. He’s helping me sort through all this shit.”

“Going through old love letters is hardly important,” Janette says. “If Landon gets a ticket with a permit, they’ll deny his license.”

“Don’t get pulled over, then,” I say to him. “We still have another two hours to go and a three-hour drive back. I can’t waste five hours just because you’re worried about your license.”

“Why are you two acting so weird?” Janette says. “And why are you reading old love letters?”

Charlie is staring down at the journal when she gives Janette a half-hearted response. “We’re experiencing an unusual case of amnesia and can’t remember who we are. I don’t even know who you are. Turn around and mind your own business.”

Janette rolls her eyes and huffs, then turns around. “Weirdos,” she mutters.

Charlie grins at me and then points down at the journal. “Here,” she says. “I’m about to read the very last entry.”

I move the box that separates us and I scoot closer to her so I can read the last entry with her. “Is it weird? Sharing your journal with me?”

She gives her head a slight shake. “Not really. I kind of feel like we aren’t them.”

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 3RD

It’s only been fifteen minutes since I last wrote in this journal. As soon as I closed it, Silas texted me and said he was outside. Since my mother doesn’t allow him in our house anymore, I walked outside to hear what he had to say.

He caught my breath and I instantly hated myself for it. The way he was leaning against his Land Rover—his feet crossed at the ankles, his hands shoved in his jacket pockets. A shiver ran over me, but I blamed it on the fact that I was in a pajama top with spaghetti straps.

He wouldn’t even look up when I walked to his car. I leaned against it next to him and folded my arms over my chest. We stood there for several moments, suspended in silence.