Prologue

My name is Evelyn Beaumont. I am twenty years old and I am a brain cancer survivor. At the tender age of sixteen, right after my summer break, I started getting blurred vision followed by intense, blinding headaches; then came the memory loss. I started losing all memory. I can remember from the age of thirteen and down, and my memory is fine now, but I just cannot remember those six years. The tumor is gone. The cancer is gone. I am a survivor. My family moved us to Atlanta, Georgia for the finest surgeons and doctors in the field. They were advised to remove anything dealing with my past from the years I can’t remember because it could be very difficult for me to deal with. So here I am, four years later, cancer free for less than six months and finally enrolled in college on campus instead of taking on-line courses. My parents said I deserved it; I beat cancer, so now it was time to enjoy life and live the college dream.

While healing, I caught up on my studies, and now I will be entering my sophomore year in college. Never in my wildest dreams or wishful hoping would I ever think I would meet a guy like Tristan, a guy who would turn my world upside down with secrets, a guy who would change my life forever. In a short time span, our life flipped upside down. This is our story…our journey down memory lane.

1

The sound of quiet is almost the worst sound there is. When your own breath bounces off the walls echoing in your ears, it is like your own personal hell; I need noise. I need noise for many reasons, but the main reason I need noise is so I don't hear the sound of the Intrathecal chemotherapy machine with its steady hum. When it is quiet, that sound haunts me. That sound is my own personal hell. I need loud: a loud so loud that it would deafen anyone else.

Because the other half of the dorm is covered with rock posters, I finish decorating what I assume is my side of the room, All of a sudden a very happy-go-lucky girl comes bouncing and giggling into the room, a broad smile shining on her face.

“You must be Evelyn Beaumont,” the girl with streaked hair says.

“Yes I am, but you can call me Ev.” I smile at her.

“Well, I’m Adella Parsh.” She smiles back.

Her eyes spot my cancer survivor bracelet when I am folding up a moving box. Adella looks up and sees that I have caught her watching me. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to stare; it’s just you’re so young.” Her eyes start to tear up.

Oh, no — no more pity for me. I am a survivor!

“Look, it’s fine. I survived, see?” I pull up my hair showing her my scars from my surgeries.

“Oh my God,” she whispers.

“It’s fine. I am fine now, so please don’t tiptoe around me or anything. This is why I’m here— to experience life and live it to the fullest.”

“You’ve got my word,” she says and zips her lips.

“Thank you Adella,” I say as I gesture to her posters. “So, you’re a big fan of rock, right?”

“Yes! We have a pretty big band right here on campus actually. Look; that’s Tristan and Drake Monroe along with Shawn Thomas and Kyle Worthington. They’re all hot and crazy talented.” She sighs, looking at her poster.

I look at the band on the poster. She is right; they are all gorgeous. “So the band is called ‘Lost’?” I ask.

“Yeah, it has something to do with Tristan losing someone very important to him when he was younger.” Adella shrugs it off. “So we have the weekend before orientation starts and the dullness of college life begins, so do you want to party with me this weekend?” she asks, jumping up and down on her bed. I already like this girl. She is a free spirit and that is just what the doctor ordered up for me.

“Why not? What’s the plan? I’ve been cooped up in hospitals and on bed rest for almost five years, so let’s do something fun.” I grin.

“Yes, now that right there is a true survivor.” She points.

She’s right. She is completely right! If I dwelled on losing five years of my life or almost five years of memories I wouldn’t get anywhere. Those memories and those years are lost. It is time to start new. I was given a second chance and I am not going to waste it.

“Okay, so here’s the plan tonight. We are obviously going to ‘Before and After’. It’s the local bar where Lost is playing tonight. Tristan owns it. Then we will go to the after party. That’s how we’ll start this weekend.” She starts riffling through her drawers.

“I’m only twenty. How am I going to get into a bar?” I squeak.

“Oh, never mind that. The bouncers are cool and someone else will buy our drinks; they always do.” She stops. “But if you don’t see it come straight from the bar you don’t drink it, okay?” She looks at me seriously.

“Gotcha.” I mock salute.

“Seriously Ev! Do not drink any drink that you do not see the bartender make. People slip in the date rape drug and all kinds of shit.”

I frown at that.

“I understand. Now help me find something to wear. I haven’t done anything since the age of 16 and I can’t even remember that year. Actually, I can’t remember anything from the age of 14 to 19. I don’t know what’s cool anymore.” I shrug helplessly.

“No problem Little Miss Diva Survivor. Momma has you covered.” She pulls out a little black dress.

“Do you have any shoes to match this?” she asks me.

I go to my closet door and open it up, showing her all the shoes in my shoe rack. “I may have been cooped up, but I know how to shop online,” I say with a cheeky grin.