One-Eighty (Westover Prep 1)

My nose brushes the curly strands of her hair hanging down her back as I inhale. I’m straining in my jeans, and even though I have no memory of ever touching a girl, I also somehow know that making it to seventeen without doing so is highly unlikely. My cock jerks like it’s well aware of what it’s missing.

“Unless you’re going to help, leave me alone,” she hisses.

“Kiss me, and I’ll leave you be,” I bargain.

I also have no memory of pressing my lips to anyone before, but deep in my gut, I feel like it’s something I’m probably good at, and there’s only one way to find out.

Instead of turning to face me, Piper scoops the grilled cheese from the pan, slaps it on a plate, and walks away.

I’m staring at her retreating back when Peyton walks into the kitchen.

“What the hell have you done now?” my younger sister spits.

“Nothing,” I lie. Well, as far as I see it, I’m lying. I didn’t do anything to her, but maybe Piper really does hate me. “I was trying to talk to her, and she just walked off.”

“I highly doubt that,” Peyton mumbles before taking her seat back at the table.

“What’s her problem, anyway?”

“You,” my sister says without pulling her eyes from the worksheet in front of her.

Her response floors me.

“When I said you were an asshole?” She looks up at me. “You were worse with Piper.”

“So, I ignored her like I did Preston?” Like I don’t have enough guilt for being an absentee brother.

She huffs, but there’s no humor in the sound. “You tortured her. Like going out of your way to be mean to her. Pranks, tricks, and insults were some of your favorite things.”

“I thought we were dating,” I mumble, still looking in the direction Piper disappeared to.

“Hardly. That girl is way too smart for that.”

“We were in my car together,” I remind her.

“She was probably there against her will. I can’t imagine any other reason for her to want to spend time alone with you.”

“That stings.”

“It’s the truth.” Peyton taps her pencil on the paperwork. “Now get lost so I can study. I’m already behind.”

I don’t answer, just nod my head and turn to walk away.

“If you want to know what your life was like before the accident, maybe ask your best friend. Spend a few hours with Kyle, and then you’ll easily see how things really are.”

Her suggestion is ominous, but I’m desperate for answers, so I shoot Kyle Turner a message as I leave the room.

Instead of hanging out downstairs, I head back to my bedroom to hide. When I see Piper coming out of Preston’s room, I merely nod my head and move to the far side of the hall so she can walk past. I can’t confront her or say another thing to her until I have answers.

It takes him twenty minutes to respond, but we agree to meet in a few hours so he can answer some questions. There’s no way I hate her. It doesn’t make sense, but it also doesn’t stop the dread from settling in as I wait to meet Kyle. I don’t think Peyton has any reason to lie to me. She seems to be the least worried person that I lost my memories. I don’t think she’d have an ulterior motive for telling me what she did downstairs.

All I know is no matter what has happened in the past, I plan to make Piper see that I’m the best decision she could ever make.Chapter 10Piper“I need you to run to Corner Street Diner and pick up dinner,” Mom says as soon as I step inside of the house. “We’re running late. Still playing catch up at the office.”

Of course, she guilts me first. My mom is a nurse at my dad’s office, and since they both missed tons of work while I was in the hospital, I can only imagine what chaos they went back to once I was released from the hospital.

“Cash is on the counter,” she adds as she walks past me to head to her bedroom.

I don’t even have time to argue before she disappears down the hall. Corner Street Diner is over five miles away, but Mom walks back into the room several minutes later after changing her clothes to find me standing in the entryway, figuring out how I’m going to walk the whole way there and make it home before the food gets cold.

“We discussed this,” Mom says with a sharp sigh.

“I can’t. Why don’t we go there together?”

Even riding in the car from the hospital was enough to make me want to ask for Prozac for my nerves. She’s asking me to get behind the wheel and actually drive myself there.

“I have a ton of charting I have to do,” she counters. “You’ll have to get comfortable in a car one day. That day might as well be today. Go on. I’m sure the food’s ready.”