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Drift almost ran to Osteon’s office.
Her feet moved so quickly it felt as if they’d merged together, now simply gliding on the dirt, then the bridge, then the stone of the Academy floor. The walls blurred together as she fully considered the weight of her realisation, that someone so important to who she was in the Academy, was slowly forgetting her.
It may only be a meeting, but how long until it was AJ’s own past? The colour of Drift’s hair? What they fought about? Joked about?
Certain memories of AJ ran over in Drift’s head constantly, loud and unforgiving, not bending to her need to suppress them. AJ seeing her in the theatre, holding her hand, running around the Academy…
How could Drift pretend to care for someone, knowing they could not even recall doing the same?
She banged on the wooden door of Osteon’s office.
There was no answer, and Drift pushed inside.
It was empty.
Fuck. She rubbed her forehead.
Drift would need to find Osteon another time, but her and AJ needed to talk.
Whether AJ wanted to or not.
Which, Drift was sure of this like her own name, AJ would not be. If the girl was unwilling to discuss something as simple as a book, there was no doubt in Drift’s mind that her memory was out of the question.
And yet, it had to happen. Drift was not idle! She couldn’t stand back and dawddle as AJ simply forgot her.
Like a fire was lit, Drift sped towards AJ’s dorm. She was sure that at least one Flick was there, who could fly to AJ and bring her back faster than she could.
The walk to her fake girlfriend’s dorm allowed Drift to consider her emotions — she found the pounding in her forehead, which always arose when fighting with AJ, a numbness in her fingers from the cold, a twirling typhoon in her stomach.
Drift didn’t want AJ to forget! How could she?
Luckily, AJ’s door was already open, and a murder of Flicks, at least five, sat perched on numerous surfaces around the living room as she walked in.
“Flick!” Drift cried out as she stormed inside. Immediately, they all began chirping, moving around. One flew around her, welcoming Drift back. “I need a favour.”
The crow-words became louder, not that Drift could understand. “I need you all to get AJ. She’s— unwell.” Drift figured if Flick thought AJ was unwell, sick, incapable of helping herself, they may be more inclined to bring her back. “She needs to come back from the pub, now, and she won’t listen to me. Can—”
The Flicks became louder, flapping their wings in outrage. Drift could not even guess whether it was regarding her audacity to ask them such a thing, or at AJ’s supposed sickness.
Not that it was entirely wrong. She was sick, just—
Nevermind.
Although, as the many Flicks began to fly around the room and out of the door in a frenzy, Drift could assume where they were headed.
Now the sound and commotion of the crows had fled, the Ground Mage found herself increasingly aware of the emptiness of the room.
Specifically, how all of Drift’s items had been removed.
The E.T. poster, the blanket she’d given AJ once. Hairties that were always on the table, unmoved from when Drift had left them there.
Nearly every trace of her was gone.
How long until the same happened to AJ’s memories of her?
The feeling of despair, horror, tickled the back of Drift’s spine at simply the thought of it. Of a mind, a soul, so empty of its own memories.
That’s no soul, Drift shook her head at nothing, it’s only a shell.
And AJ is no shell. She was a horrible cyclone who had stormed her way into Drift’s life, ruining everything in its wake
I will not let that happen to AJ, Drift told herself. She had to tell herself now, because God knows what arguing with AJ might bring her.
She didn’t know how much time had passed, stewing in her feelings in AJ’s dorm, hoping the Flicks would be successful in forcing her here.
At least, until Drift heard the familiar shouting outside, followed by a series of crows.
“Flick! You’re not supposed to peck me—” AJ yelled outside her room, the voice becoming louder as she was pushed inside the dorm.
AJ’s head was slightly ducked from the crows. A light blush was on her cheeks, telling Drift that she was tipsy, but not drunk. Good.
“What’s even…” AJ was saying as she saw Drift in front of her, eyes worried and big. “Oh. Right.”
“Right?” She echoed. “I left, like, five minutes ago.”
“Hey… time doesn’t exist when I’m drinking, Open Book. You know this.” AJ sighed. “Well, I’ll be heading back—“
“No, you’re not.” Drift snapped, taking a step towards her. “This is serious!”
AJ’s fake girlfriend’s worry was evident to the Flicks, as they began swooping around the door, preventing AJ’s escape. “Oh, Flick— fucking hell! You’re supposed to be my ally! The hell are you—“
“He must know something’s wrong.” Drift spoke slowly, the pressure building inside of her as AJ foolishly tried walking into the flying Flicks. “Because something is.”
Drift could see AJ’s body tense, like back in the pub, her muscular shoulders closing together. “You don’t know anything, Drift.”
“Then tell me.” She pleaded. “Tell me, AJ! You…”
“I?”
“You can’t just forget about when we met.”
“I didn’t forget.” Finally, the Death Mage spun around, looking annoyed. “I remember.”
A worm of doubt found its way into Drift’s stomach.
The certainty on AJ’s face… she looked sure that she remembered.
Not like back in the pub.
Something resembling hope flourished in Drift’s mind. Maybe it was just a mistake. Maybe… maybe AJ did remember.
Maybe she was okay.
AJ continued. “You were pretending to be those, like, clones, and I followed you up the staircase. We fought, Shelby pushed us across the Main Hall, and you killed Flick. I remember it, Drift. I mean…” she laughed to herself, although Drift could hear the bitterness in it. “It’s nothing. I was drinking, it— it was a lapse.”
The hope died as quickly as it came.
Drift half-expected AJ to make a run for it. To leave now that the Flicks had calmed down, but she only stood by the door, waiting Drift’s reply.
Waiting for her to say oh, yeah, all good! Yeah, no, you definitely aren’t losing your memories and don’t even realise it! Let’s go drink!
There was no way for AJ to realise her mistake, if she didn’t figure it out herself.
“How did you know my name?” Drift asked, instead of the reply she was sure AJ hoped for.
“What?” There was no laughter in her voice.
“You knew my name already. When we met in the Main Hall. I knew yours, too.” Drift shrugged. There was no point in getting mad when AJ didn’t remember yet. “You knew it already. How?”
The question of how? sat clearly in AJ’s eyes. Drift watched them fall to the floor, watched her face go slack.
“Someone must’ve… told me about you.” AJ’s eyes were transfixed, and for one of the first times in their relationship, fake or not, Drift only felt pity for the Mage.
“Who?”
AJ did not answer, because there was no answer.
“That wasn’t our first meeting, AJ.” Drift said softly, no joy in her expression from being right. “It was our second.”
“I—“ AJ began to speak.
“You don’t remember.” The Earth Mage sighed sadly. “I know you don’t.”
A wave washed over AJ’s face, her eyes widened — eyes that still refused to meet Drift’s, and her lips lost the grin that was often etched onto them.
“Oh.”
Drift didn’t know AJ actually said oh, she spoke so quietly. It could’ve been Flick, or someone outside, but the sickened look on AJ’s face made Drift positive it was her.
“You’re losing your memories, aren’t you?” The Mage asked. It was a question that didn’t need to be asked, or answered. They both knew it.
As AJ formed her reply, Drift ran through the list of questions in her head. When did this first happen? How often has it happened? What have you heard about it? Do you know why it’s happening?
Even seconds later, AJ hadn’t replied. She pulled her eyes off the floor, and made her face look calm again, as if trying to hide her realisation. Then her shoulders were rolled back, and she smiled. “No.”
She’s kidding. Surely.
“No?” Drift scoffed, raising her eyebrows in anger. “You’re not losing your memories, even though—“
“I’m not. It… I was drunk, am drunk, Open Book. Honestly.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“Well.” AJ held her hands up as if trying to joke. “Not much I can do about that.”
“Oh, there is, actually! You could just… you know, tell me the truth.”
“I am!”
“Bullshit.” She rolled her eyes. “How much has this happened, AJ? You trying to recall something, and it drips away from your memory? When you can feel that there’s something there, but can’t grab it?” Drift must’ve taken several steps towards her, because she could feel AJ’s body heat. “When did it first happen?”
“It hasn’t.” AJ replied strongly.
I swear to—
Drift took a deep breath in. “Who spoke first?”
AJ stared at her, confused.
“When we first met, who spoke first?”
She won’t be able to answer, because she doesn’t know the answer. Drift was positive of it.
AJ’s eyes returned to the floor, and for the second time in the conversation, her demeanor shifted. Drift could find the exact moment she accepted it.
“What do you want from me, Open Book?”
I want you to be okay. I want to be more than fun for you. I don’t want you to forget about me.
“The truth.” She settled on. “Just for fucking once, AJ, I want you to tell me the truth.”
Her fake girlfriend put her face in her hands, hiding. “You’re getting it!”
“Jesus Christ, AJ! This isn’t the Lavender field. I know what’s going on this time. And I won’t let you—“ Drift stopped herself.
“Let me what?” AJ asked, tired. “Hurt you again?”
Drift opened her mouth at first, but found it hard to speak. Her fake girlfriend stared at her sadly, pathetic.
“I was going to say hurt yourself again.” Drift looked down, letting out a heavy exhale. “But that, too. I just can’t… I won’t let you put up those walls again—“
AJ began to scoff, then laugh.
“—or push me away! Because that’s what you do! You lie and say you’re fine when people care, and hide behind those stupid walls! And I can feel it happening—”
She mumbled something under her breath.
“---all over again! So I’m trying to stop you from hurting everyone involved, AJ. Again. I’m trying to stop you from doing what you always do!”
AJ replied instantaneously. “There is no one involved, Drift. Because, guess fucking what? Nothing’s happening.” AJ spat the words out angrily. She turned to the side and ran her hands through her hair, eyes wild and upset when she turned back to face Drift. “And you know what, Drift? Those things you keep saying to me? About my walls, and my— instincts to push people away, to hurt myself? Those mean nothing to me.”
You were just a bit of fun, Open Book.
Drift shrugged the thought from her mind.
“What?” She whispered, getting angrier. “How can they mean nothing? They’re true.”
AJ didn’t move as she stared at Drift. Her chest just exhaled, visibly deflated, shoulders lowering and eyelids drooping downwards. Drift watched, lost, as AJ pursed her lips and spoke slowly. “Because I live with it, Drift. I live with those walls and instincts, with what I do, so I feel the consequences. You act like it’s some revolutionary idea, like I don’t know what I am, but I do. I am it. No amount of telling me so will change that.”
Drift… didn’t know how to reply.
AJ didn’t look at her angry — anymore — or defensive, or even annoyed. Her eyes resembled puppy dogs, staring sadly at her girlfriend.
“Everything I do, I do knowing the consequences.” It was an admission Drift didn’t know AJ was self-aware enough to make, and one it hurt to hear. It was easier to think AJ didn’t know. That she was blind to her character flaws, because then, Drift could tell herself that she could be fixed.
If she knows the consequences, then she chooses the consequences.
And she’ll keep choosing them until stopped.
“But, AJ.” Drift sobbed without crying. “I— I can’t accept that. I don’t want you like this. I don’t want you forgetting me.”
Somehow, the admission felt like a dirty secret. Because, that’s what it boiled down to, wasn’t it?
Drift didn’t want AJ to forget her, because she cared.
Despite everything, clearly, some part of her still cared.
And AJ knew. She smiled sadly at her. “You’re not supposed to want me at all, Open Book.”
Drift’s eyes began to sting. She didn’t know what to say. “I—
“I know.” AJ shook her head.
“No—”
“I know, Drift.”
“AJ, I just want you to be ok—”
“I know! I know you do, or… you think so.”
“No, AJ. Listen to me.” Drift’s hands moved of their own mind, taking AJ’s into hers. It made her stomach flutter. “You can’t lie to me about this. I know the truth. So deny it, I don’t care, because I’ll stand here, and write down every conversation I can recall with you. I’ll note down every look you’ve given me, because, AJ, God, I don’t know how, but— you’ve seen me. More than Shelby or Megii have, okay? More than anyone else in this Academy, and I— I can’t lose that.”
Drift sniffed quietly, knowing she had to say it. ”I can’t lose you.”
Still holding onto her fake girlfriend’s hands, AJ shook her head. “You can’t lose someone you never got back.”
AJ pulled her hands out of Drift’s hold. “It’s fake, Drift. This whole thing is a fake, a charade, a show. You need to—” AJ stopped herself, shut her eyes, and swallowed as if in pain. Drift figured she probably was. “You need to remember that.”
“I do remember that. But that doesn’t absolve me from giving a shit about you! I mean, God, AJ, I hate you, I still do. I hate you, because you lied to me, and pushed me away for no reason, knowing it would kill me. I hate you, because I know you won’t apologise for it. But that doesn’t… I— your memories still matter to me. Your feelings, and your life, you know? Yeah, I want to hit you, and hurt you, but I don’t want you doing it to yourself.”
Everything Drift could bear to admit to herself, she had admitted to AJ.
It sucked more than she expected.
AJ laughed bitterly to herself. “A bit too late for that, Open Book.”
Cool water washed over Drift’s body. “What?”
“Nothing.” AJ shook her head with a laugh.
It’s never nothing with you, she wanted to say. Whatever. It can wait for next time.
“AJ. Please. Just… work with me. I begged in the Lavender field, and you didn’t listen, and now I’m begging again. Let me help.” She spoke so softly, so kindly, and AJ began to glance up at her in hope.
Until she continued. “I’ll talk to Osteon, and research—”
AJ made a face.
Okay. “Okay. Fine.” Drift muttered. “If you don’t want my help, just promise me you’ll get help. From Osteon, from Megii, from the fucking Simposnis, I don’t care. I just don’t want you doing this… alone.”
Maybe it was the fragility of her voice as she spoke, or the desperation in Drift’s eyes, but AJ’s expression entirely softened. She seemed considerate, quietly turning over Drift’s plea in her head.
She opened her mouth. “Okay.”
“Seriously?”
AJ nodded to her, numbly. She just seemed tired of fighting. “It’s not like… it’s not like I want to forget.”
“So you are forgetting?”
AJ half-exhaled, half-chuckled. “You’re always right, Drift.”
“I didn’t want to be.” She looked to floor and sighed loudly.
It was time to leave.
The many Flicks in AJ’s room stared at her as she walked around AJ to the door, not looking at the girl, or saying anything.
What was there to say, even?
“Drift?”
She spun around, and Drift would be a liar to say that she didn’t hope AJ was moving to kiss her. “Yeah?”
“What you said, about me not being sorry for the, um, Lavender field?” The Death Mage asked quietly, sounding sheepish, and embarrassed.
“Yeah?”
“I am sorry about one thing.”
Do I want to know?
“What for?” Drift frowned.
“That I made you care.”