“Why does Tristan look like he’s about to pass out?” Ev looks to Drake.

“Evelyn, we were all best friends for three years. You played in a band with us. You were into photography and film, and most importantly you and Tristan were in love for three years.” Drake whispers, his voice cracking.

Yeah, I can’t talk right now. She does not remember me. She does not remember us. She was alone going through all that.

“We were what? We were a couple? You were serious when you said that back there?” She points to the hallway looking from him to me then back to him. Drake nods and Ev shrinks further into Adella.

“I’m still into photography and stuff,” she whispers. “I was into it before those years so it’s still there, but I’m sorry I don’t remember you guys or…or the band part. What did I do in this band?” Her sweet voice asks.

I can’t do this. I can’t do this at all.

“You sang and were pretty good at the keyboard. We were teaching you,” Drake mumbles.

“I can’t sing,” she squeaks.

But she can sing like a goddess.

“You can,” I mumble out, downing another shot.

“I can?” she asks incredulously.

“Yes, you can, and you’re very good,” Drake answers for me. He must sense all of this has thrown me off balance.

She gets a huge grin on her face. “Well, if you know me, when is my birthday?” She folds her hands.

“July fourth, you’re a fireworks baby,” I whisper.

Fuck me. I need to get in the game. My wits are all over the place.

“Uh, where did we meet?” she asks.

“On the beach. Dumbass hit you in the head with a volleyball when he was fifteen. He was ogling you down at Laguna.” Drake laughs.

“We have a beach house in Laguna. Is that where we all met?”

“Yes.” I answer.

“And we were together for three years?”

I only nod. I can’t do anything else but nod. I shake my head in frustration.

“And why did we break up?” she whispers.

There is the million-dollar question that I have asked for years and now have my answer to.

“We didn’t— you just never came back, not even during holidays. You just never came back.” I look her dead in the eyes.

“I never came back,” she whispers and I nod. Tears start to form in her eyes.

“I’m sorry. Once the memory loss started happening my parents were advised to let me just lose those years so I wouldn’t dwell on them while I was fighting cancer. I didn’t mean to forget you or to leave you!” she chokes out the words.

Don’t cry Ev. Don’t cry!

“I think we all need some more shots, right?” Adella chimes in.

Thank God! This is too much to take in at once!

“Yes, that would be nice.” Ev wipes her tears away.

Drake holds his hands up. “Nope, I’m done. I’ve got a two hour drive.” He gets up and pats his pockets for his keys.

“Why do you have a two hour drive?” I ask him.

“I’m going to get the Evelyn trunk. It’s full of our memories.” He says, matter-of-factly.

Our Ev trunk! All our memories, pictures, videos and memorabilia from our times together are in that trunk.

“Bring it to me. She doesn’t need to see it all at once, and I don’t want her to get overwhelmed.” I growl.

“I know, but I’m sure Ev would like to see it. Am I right, Ev?” He looks over to her and she looks happy.

“We have a trunk full of memories? Like my lost memories?” The tone in her voice is a happy one.

“Yes.” I look at her, and when she looks back at me, she gives me that Ev smile that was always reserved for me. That smile where her eyes sparkle and her dimples show.

There goes my chest again.

“Go get them. I can have some of my memories back even if someone else has to show them to me. I can get some of them back,” she cries and claps as Adella hands her another shot, which she downs happily.

Drake leans down and gives her an awkward hug before leaving to retrieve my most prized memories of her.

“So, more shots everyone.” She bounces.

This is more like the old carefree Evelyn. Why didn’t her parents at least call and tell us what the hell was going on? As if on cue, Ev’s phone starts going off and she scowls at it.

“It’s my parents,” she slurs.

A laugh escapes my throat. She’s about to answer the phone drunk.

“Well, hello Mommy dearest,” she purrs evilly into the phone. “You know how you shipped me off to this college so I could heal and live my life again? Well, turns out my first night here I have run into some old friends. How old of friends you ask?” She looks over at me and I smile.

“Well, apparently there is this guy I dated for like, what, three years?” She looks to me for more confirmation. I nod again. “Yes Tristan. Umm, I don’t know his last name.” She looks to me for help.

“Monroe,” I say.

“Yes, his name is Tristan Monroe. Imagine my surprise when he didn’t know what happened to me. You said you contacted everyone Mother. You said everyone!” She yells into the phone. “I understand you had to keep my memories away from me. But did you honestly not clue in the people that freaking cared about me Mom? Huh? Because that probably broke them, you know. They thought I just left and never came back. What if I had died? Would you have told them then?” She is crying into the phone. “No, it’s okay. I don’t need you to tell me my memories of him or those summers or holidays!” There’s a pause. “Why? Because THEY saved my memories for me!” And with that, she hangs up.