Lustful Amnesia

I think it was probably two weeks that passed after the situation in the pond. Cordelia acted as though nothing had happened between us, and I would have assumed it all imagined save the way I caught her looking at me sometimes.

We were both young, and I suspected that there was something we didn't see, or understand in the way we behaved with each other.

I had grown very much accustomed to painting with her, beside her, at that old desk.

We didn't frequent that pond, which made me believe that she had done it all on purpose.

I didn't care.

In the two weeks or so that passed since our time in the pond, nothing happened,

at all

. Most of the time, we sat in silence. She was content to sit and let me stare at her now without telling me it was rude.

Sometimes she would glance at me to let me know she saw me looking. In those two weeks, emotions were bittersweet.

O O O

Amnesia sat beside Cordelia. Mostly, her paintings were sloppy compared to her friend's work. "Mom's been talking a lot about London." Amnesia said finally, as she painted with Cordelia. "You don't think she's planning to return us there?"

"Of course not." Cordelia said evenly, adding a wash over the canvas. "Home is

here

now."

Amnesia looked up and smiled, but Cordelia her concentration face on, one from which she seldom ever looked up. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me, Amnesia." Cordelia sighed, which led the two of them into another awkward silence.

"Do you want to go to the pond again?" Amnesia asked in a near whisper. "It is hot in this house, and I could use the cool water."

"I don't really like swimming. You can go if you want to, and I'll try to catch up with you when I finish coloring."

Amnesia felt wounded.

"

Oh

—okay." She said, putting her paintbrush down. "I just thought you would want to..."

"The water is too cold. If you want, I can spend the night tonight. We could tell stories, and talk about boys."

Amnesia nodded. "Okay." She didn't really want to talk about boys though.

Not with Cordelia.

She felt like she would do anything just to get another dose of that stare she did—that penetrating gaze that filled her head with dizzies and gave her falling-feeling she got sometimes before sleep.

Cordelia often seemed heavily empathetic to Amnesia's thoughts.

She scooted closer to her friend, taking a moment to pause from painting. "It gets very cold here at night, so we'll have to share the covers for warmth."

"

Yes

." Amnesia whispered, and hesitantly put her arm around Cordelia. She did not shrug it off.

O O O

The nights were cold, indeed, but it was maybe an exaggeration to assume they would be anything close to hypothermic. I suppose then, we had to exaggerate a bit to

justify

the strange feelings, and behaviors we shared, but did not truly comprehend. We didn't exactly understand what it was we were doing, and at our age had only begun to identify with our own emotions. Sharing the short, forbidden moments in the pond was little different than a you-show-me-yours and I'll-show-you-mine that most children experience.

It was

how

these things happened that made them special to me.

At first, I thought that the emotions driving the vehicle of our friendship were imagined, and I was careful, and shy to keep my feelings and thoughts to myself. Cordelia was a hard book to read, and she could turn her emotions on, and off at will. I am not certain I was ever really worthy to love her, or be loved by her, but I know that anything, or anyone she loved, she loved fiercely.

O O O

"I don't want to talk about boys tonight." Cordelia said, offering a quintessential yawn that meant to Amnesia that she was neither bored, nor tired, but did not want to stay up—or at least keep the lights on.

"Me neither. I was thinking maybe we could tell stories with a flashlight and try to scare each other under the covers." Amnesia said. "I know some dreadfully haunting stories about London that mom told me."

"Nothing scares me. I'm sure we'll figure

something

out, though."

"Well," Amnesia said cautiously. "It's only eight o'clock. I do not usually go to bed for another hour."

"Well, let's go on a walk then. We can wander through the tall grass outside, and look at the stars."

Amnesia knew better than to ask if they were allowed; she knew full well that Cordelia didn't care what was, and was not allowed. Part of the allure in their friendship was her enchanting ability to instill her bravery in Amnesia. They wandered down the stairwell together, and past Amnesia's mother in the common room.

"Oh dear, where are you two going?"

"It's boring mummy," Amnesia said with a pretty smile.

"We wanted to go and watch the constellations."

"Wouldn't you two rather have some cocoa? Amnesia you could tell Cordelia about the Ghosties and dreadfully scary stories about London!"

Amnesia looked at her friend who offered a raised brow. She looked back to her mother. "I don't want to tell those stories. Those are silly stories for children."

Amnesia's mother smiled warmly. "Alright girls, but only for a half of an hour. After that you must shower and go to bed without a fuss."

"That's fine." Amnesia said. "Tomorrow could we wander outside?"

Cordelia stood in silence behind Amnesia, whose hands were behind her back. Amnesia felt Cordelia's finger caress the palm of her hand. "Yes girls, but hurry. You only have a short while to look at the stars."