Remember Me

Fifteen

I wake up to a harsh flick on the side of my head. I groan, rolling the other side.

"Auden!" I hear somebody whisper. "Chick – come on. We'll be late for college."

I sit up. I look in the mirror that was across my bedroom. My hair looked ecstatic, and my eyes had a thin line of dark circles each.

"Ugh." Noah plainly said. "But then again, you have looked worse... Remember the day I-

"Do not bring up the hairdryer." I sharply disturb Noah. He was in hysterics, thinking about the head of white hair I fashioned that day.

"Come on, chick." Noah ripped the duvet cover from my bed, ending up on my floor.

"Auden." I corrected. "Do I look like a baby chicken? No."

"But you are a baby. And a chicken. So... You're chick."

I roll my eyes. "Shut up Noah. And get out. Now!"

Noah smiles. "Sure thing."

"Oh!" I stop Noah. "and what do you mean by 'we' are going to be late?"

"I kind of let Rachel take my car to go shopping. So you have to take me."

"No! Not if I was dead, Noah. Spend time in a car with you? It's something I can't do. No way. Do you not have any friends?" I burst, walking to my en suite. I run a brush through my dirty blonde hair, hoping to rid of the tangles that formed overnight.

"Yes. I have friends. But they're probably already in college. Like I said; we're late."

Noah darts out of the room before I can reply. I just sigh. I pull on a pair of skinny denim jeggings, a plain white long-sleeved top and my burgundy Abercrombie. I slip on my white Converse, which were turning a vague grey as I practically only wear them.

"You look stupid, by the way!" I shout as I put on some concealer.

"Thanks, Auden. You're a real confidence booster!"

"I know. Why are you wearing a shirt? You look like you're going to a wedding, not college."

Then it comes to me.

"Rachel." We both shout simultaneously.

"Yeah..." Noah trails off.

I put on some of my Mac foundation. "Why do you even like her?"

"She can be nice," Noah says less loudly. He was back in my bedroom. Again.

"In your dreams." I exclaim, rolling my eyes.

Noah laughs.

I curl my eyelashes, then apply some eyeliner and mascara. I don't do winged eyeliner, or anything, just along my lash line. "Why do you wear makeup?"

I shrug. "It's an art. And I get as spotty as hell during the winter."

Noah shrugs. "You shouldn't care about your spotty face."

"I know I said I got lots of spots – but I don't need you to verify that for me."

Noah smirks. "I mean it. You shouldn't let spots define what you do with your face."

"Like I said – It's an art for me."

"On your face?"

"On my face. Now – are you finished interrogating me about my makeup? Or should I go and grab my moisturisers too, tell you what parts of my face get dry?" Noah scoffs, but before he could reply his phone rang. I pull my hair into a high pony tail. The hair sits on the left side of my chest.

"Hi Rachel." I hear Noah say. Ugh. Why does he even like her?

He should like me.

No. No. I didn't say that. Stupid brain. Do I like him? No. He's hateful. He is rude. Arrogant. Selfish. No. He is not nice. He is cynical and a player. Noah leaves the room without throwing so much of a look at me.

***

I went to college with Noah in the end. Of course. I mean, I hate his guts, but I couldn't leave him to walk. He'd be drowning in trouble. And a project of ours is due in today, so that'd be pretty annoying if he missed the eleven o'clock deadline because he was late.

Now college was over, I with Hazel in her bedroom. It was cute, with a platform bed and makeup model pictures taped onto a wall, covering every single inch of it.

"So," I begin. "how's Travis?"

Hazel's glowing face lit up like a bulb. "Looking as gorgeous as ever,"

I let out an awkward half-scoff, half-laugh. It's always going to be so awkward talking about Travis Hill. Always. Hazel throws her phone onto her bed, grinning at me. "Do you have your eye on anyone? Any cute college guys hovering about? Aspiring photographers?"

Instantly, I come to a realisation. Oh no. This isn't good. When I was asked that question, only one face sprang to my warped mind.

Noah Dillon.