I wanted to know more about her.

Carefully, I peeled one picture of us together off the board and held it close to my face. Her smile made me shiver, and my gaze flicked up from the photo. Color bleached from the room, replaced by dull shades of gray. Goose bumps spread across my flesh. Cold. So cold here, and dark, with only the rushing sound…in and out, in and out….

I closed my eyes and shook my head to clear it of the dank, earthy feel that had suddenly come out of nowhere. I forced my eyes open, and the room was back in vivid color. My gaze settled on the pictures tacked to the board again. The images all blurred, and there was a flash, a quick glimpse. A tall, blond girl with a wide smile and a floppy red hat stretched out her arms to me.

The image of the girl faded as if it had never been there. Confused, I peered at the photos, hoping to find the girl in one of them. She looked as if she was only ten or so in my head, but there was no child who looked like her on the board or an older version of her. My shoulders slumped as I stepped back. I was disappointed. Something about that smiling girl was warm and real, unlike all the rest. I would’ve been happy to see that she was on my wall of friends.

“Look who’s back.”

Startled, I jumped at the sound of the deep voice and dropped the picture on the floor. Shaky and disoriented, I turned around.

A boy stood in the doorway, tall and slender. Hazel eyes peeked through messy auburn hair. There was a mischievous, quirky look on his face. I was going to make a guesstimate here and say he was my brother. We shared some of the same features. This was Scott. We were fraternal twins. At least, that was what Mom had explained on the way home.

He tipped his head back, eyeing me curiously. “Are you going to cut the bull and fess up to me?”

Pushing the picture under the bed with my toes, I ran clammy hands down my hips. “What…what do you mean?”

He sauntered into the room, stopping a few feet in front of me. We were the same height. “Where have you really been, Sam?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t?” He laughed, and the skin crinkled around his eyes. “Come on. What did you and Cassie get yourselves into this time?”

“Cassie’s missing,” I mumbled, glancing down at the floor. She hadn’t really looked like the girl the deputy had shown me. I bent down, grabbing the picture from underneath the bed. “This is Cassie, right?”

He frowned as he glanced at the picture. “Yeah, that’s Cassie.”

I quickly placed the picture on the bedside table. “I don’t know where she is.”

“I have theories.”

Interest piqued, I rocked back on my heels. “You do?”

Scott flopped on my bed and stretched out lazily. “Shit, you probably killed her and stashed her body somewhere.” He laughed. “That’s my main theory.”

Blood drained out of my face, and I gasped.

The smile on his face faded as he watched me. “Sam, dude, I was kidding.”

“Oh.” Sweet relief shot through me, and I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my chipped nails. In an instant, everything turned gray and white. The only color was red—vibrant, garish red under my fingernails. Soft whimpers—someone was crying.

Scott grabbed my arm. “Hey, you okay?”

I blinked, and the vision, the sounds faded away. Shoving my hands under my legs, I nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

He sat up, staring at me. “Holy shit, you’re not faking it.”

“Faking what?”

“The whole amnesia thing—because I was betting money you were off partying somewhere, got trashed for days, and couldn’t come home until you sobered up.”

Damn. “Did I do that often?”

Scott barked out a laugh. “Yeah…this is weird. You’re definitely not faking.”

Now I felt even more confused. “How can you tell?”

“Well, for starters, you haven’t kicked me out of your room or threatened to ruin my life yet.”

“I’d do that?”

He stared at me, his eyes wide. “Yeah, and sometimes you’d even hit me. Once, I hit you back, and, well, that didn’t go over well. Dad got pissed. Mom was mortified.”

My brows pinched. “We…hit each other?”

Shaking his head, Scott leaned back. “Man, this is bizarre.”

No doubt. I pulled my hands out from under my legs and sighed. “Back to the whole killing-Cassie-and-hiding-her-body thing. Why did you say that?”

“I was kidding. You two have been best friends foreva.” He smirked. “Actually, you guys were more like frenemies in the last couple of years. There was some kind of unspoken rivalry going on between you two. It started when you made homecoming queen during sophomore year and she made court. At least that’s what you tell everyone, but I’m thinking it started when you two were freshmen and you started dating Del the Dick.”

“Del the Dick?” I tucked a strand of hair back. “That’s my boyfriend.”

“That’s your whole world.”

Not liking the sound of that, I made a face. “I don’t remember…him, either.”

“That’s going to be a blow to his confidence.” He grinned. “You know, this is possibly the best thing that has ever happened.”

“Me losing my memory and not knowing what happened to me?” Anger sparked deep inside me, familiar and powerful. “Yeah, I’m glad that’s so great for you.”

“That’s not what I mean.” Scott sat up, looking me straight in the eyes. “You were a terror to everyone who knew you. And this”—he waved his hand around me—“is an improvement.”

That icky feeling was back, coiling around my insides. I was a terror? I bit my lip, frustrated that there was nothing in my head confirming or denying what he’d said.

Someone cleared his throat.

We twisted around and…wow, just wow. My jaw hit the bedspread. There was a tall boy standing in the doorway to my bedroom. Dark brown hair fell over his forehead and curled around his ears. His skin was deep, almost olive in comparison to my paler skin, hinting at a Native American or Hispanic ancestry. His cheekbones were broad, giving him an exotic look, and his jaw was strong, clenched tight. The long-sleeved shirt he wore stretched over his broad shoulders and biceps. His body was purely athletic, slender and yet muscular.

A black baseball cap dangled off the tips of his fingers, forgotten. Our eyes locked, and I felt a stirring in my chest. His were a magnetic, intense blue. The color of the sky right before the day ended and night took hold—the color of dusk. There was stark relief in his gaze, and also a wariness I didn’t understand.

“Is that my boyfriend?” I whispered, hopeful and scared all at once. If he was my boyfriend, I had no idea what to do with him. Well, I did—I suddenly had lots of ideas that involved kissing, touching, and all sorts of fun things, but he was…mouthwateringly gorgeous, and that intimidated the hell out of me.

Scott choked on his laugh.

The boy in the doorway glanced at my brother and then at me. Heat crept across my cheeks. The relief was still in his eyes, and my lips split in a hesitant smile. He was happy to see me, but…but then his eyes hardened into chips of ice.

“Boyfriend? Yeah,” he said slowly, voice deep and smooth. “Not even if you paid my tuition to Penn State next year.”

Stung and embarrassed, I jerked back, and the question came out before I could stop it. “And why not?”

He stared at me as if I had an arm sticking out of my head and waving around. He turned to my brother, brows raised. “I’ll be waiting outside.”

“Sure, man, be there in a sec, Car.”

“His name is Car?” I said, folding my arms.

Vehicle Boy stopped and turned back around. “Car, as in Carson Ortiz.”

Oh. That made sense. I lowered my arms, feeling about nine kinds of stupid.

Carson’s eyes narrowed. “She really has no clue about…about anything?”

“Yep,” Scott replied, lips pursed.

Carson started to leave again but stopped once more. Muttering under his breath, he looked at me. “I’m glad you’re okay, Sam.”

Before I could even respond to that, he was gone. I turned back to Scott. “He doesn’t like me.”

Scott looked like he wanted to laugh again. “Yeah, he doesn’t.”

A weird, twisty feeling sprang in my chest. “Why?”

Pushing off the bed, he sighed. “You don’t like him.”

I didn’t? Did I not have taste? He was baby-making material. Then I frowned. How did I know who was baby-making material? “I don’t get it.”

“You were kind of a bitch to him…in the last couple of years.”

“Why?”

The look on his face told me he was getting tired of the question Why? “Because his dad is hired help, and you’re not a fan of the hired help. Hell, or their offspring and anyone who associates with them.”

I dropped my hands into my lap, unsure of how to respond to that. He had to be kidding. “We have hired help?”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Dad and Mom do, which is funny because Mom hasn’t worked a day in her life.” When he saw my expression, he cursed. “Jeez, this is like talking to a toddler.”

Anger pricked my skin, and so did hurt. “Sorry. You can go talk to Car, who apparently doesn’t suffer from an impaired IQ.”

Regret flickered in his eyes, and he sighed again. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that, but, Sam, this is weird. It’s like Invasion of the Body Snatchers or something.”

It was weird. I glanced at the empty doorway, anxious and even a little afraid. I suddenly realized I didn’t want to be left alone. “Where are you guys going?”

He glanced down at his sweats, one brow raised. “We have baseball practice.”

“Can I go?”

Surprise shone on his face. “You hate going to baseball games. The only reason you do go is because of Del.”

“I don’t know who Del is!” My hands balled into useless fists. “I don’t know what I hate. Or what I like. Or what I’m supposed to do or say. I don’t recognize any of this. To make things worse, now I find out that everyone apparently hates me—including my best friend, who disappeared at the same time I did—and I can’t even remember why.” I looked around the room, close to tears. “And my middle name is Jo. Who gives their kid a middle name like Jo?”

Scott didn’t say anything for several seconds, and then he knelt in front of me. It was strange looking at his face, seeing my own face—but more masculine and hard—staring back. “Sam, it’s going to be okay.”

A tremble started in my lower lips. “Everyone keeps saying that, but what if it’s not?”

He didn’t answer.

Because it wasn’t okay—it was never going to be okay. I was stuck in this life I didn’t remember, squeezed into the shell of this girl—this Samantha Jo Franco—and the more I learned about her, the more I was starting to hate her.

Chapter three

On Saturday I met my friends…for the first time. They talked. A lot. And they sounded and looked the same. Hair with brighter streaks strategically pieced throughout. Each of them looked as if they could use some of the doughnuts I was scarfing down.

They crowded around me, hugging and crying. My mom lingered in the kitchen, sipping wine at eleven in the morning. One of the three girls stood out from the rest. Her name I learned pretty quickly.

Veronica Hodges.

Blond. Tan. Skinny. Perfect. The type of girl who could do tanning-bed commercials and be crowned homecoming queen in a bikini.

Smoothing her manicured hand over her white cashmere sweater, Veronica curled her red-painted lips at the package of doughnuts and croissants as if they were infested with cockroaches. “We are so glad you’re okay, Sammy. All of us have been so worried.”

I brushed white crumbs off my hands. “Thanks.”

Veronica glanced over her shoulder at my mom and then leaned forward and spoke in a hushed voice. “And we’re really hoping that Cassie will show up, too.”

Curious as to why she was whispering that, I looked at the other girls. They all nodded like good little dogs. I picked up a croissant. “Me too.”

She frowned. “But…your mom says you don’t remember her.”

“Or us,” chimed in Candy Alderman. She, too, eyed the box of goodies. “It’s good to see that your appetite is the same.”

I paused, a croissant halfway to my mouth. “It is?”

Candy nodded. “You’ve always eaten like a guy.”

“That is so true,” Mom murmured over the rim of her wineglass, eyes focused on the ceiling.

Lowering the croissant, I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing that I’d retained my manly appetite. I glanced around the room, and all I could think about was the girl I’d seen in my thoughts, the natural blonde who had been so happy and so real. I wanted to know who she was.

“So,” Candy said, drawing the word out. “You don’t remember anything?”

Just like that, my appetite vanished. I tossed the croissant back into the box and glanced at my mom. Now she was paying attention. “I don’t remember, but the doc thinks it will come back to me soon.”

The girls looked relieved, and then they started talking about school, the upcoming start of the baseball season, which appeared to be a big deal around these parts, and where they were going tonight. I was invited, but my mom kindly advised them that I wasn’t stepping foot out of this house anytime soon. Fabulous. They moved on to the boyfriend I didn’t remember.