Free The Forgetting by Nicole Maggi Page A

and clear. “Suicide. God .”
    I watched his jaw work up and down; he was still fighting tears. “Does that happen…a lot? With…girls like her?” I asked.
    â€œGirls like her…” he murmured. “There were no girls like Annabel.”
    I gasped and almost dropped my mug to the floor. The name uncoiled a dozen memories inside me, snatches of images: Annabel on the street, here at All Saints, in her dank little bedroom. Annabel . “That was her name.”
    â€œYes.” I started at Nate’s response; I hadn’t realized I had spoken out loud. “But not her real one,” Nate went on, his eyes unfocused. “That was just the name she used on the street. I never knew her real name.”
    My shoulders deflated a little. But at least I’d gotten something. And now at least I could stop thinking of her as Jane Doe. Annabel . “What did you know about her?”
    Nate’s eyes slid back into focus and his expression tightened. “Why?” He leaned forward, his body knife-like. “And why were you looking for her if you knew she was dead?”
    â€œI wasn’t looking for her . I was looking for information about her.” I squirmed in my chair.
    â€œAnd again I ask, why ?” His voice rose. I flinched. Nate softened a little. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”
    â€œI wasn’t doing anything wrong.” I got up and went to the microwave under the pretense of reheating my tea, but really I was covering. I hadn’t thought this far ahead. How was I supposed to know that I’d run into the boy that Jane Doe—Annabel—had loved? I pressed my hand to my heart as the tea rotated inside the lighted microwave. What other secrets were contained in this vessel she’d given me?
    The microwave dinged. I took a long time getting my mug out and turned around to face Nate. “I’ve been working on a piece for my school paper,” I said. “About teen suicide. And I stumbled across a mention of a Jane Doe suicide on the police precinct website. It had the address of where she’d jumped, so I came over here to see if I could find out anything more about her. That’s when I bumped into Char, and she mentioned the other girl who used to hang out there.”
    â€œHow’d you know that was Annabel?” Nate demanded.
    â€œI didn’t,” I stammered. “It was just a hunch. Char said the other girl was dead, which seemed a pretty big coincidence, so I was asking her about it, and then you showed up, and then Jules showed up and…now we’re here.”
    â€œUh-huh.” Nate’s eyes searched my face. I tried to keep my face as guileless as possible. I wasn’t skilled in the art of lying; I’d never had to be. “You’re writing an article?”
    â€œFor my school paper.”
    â€œWhat school?”
    â€œHillcoate Prep.”
    He raised an eyebrow. “Really.”
    â€œSo?”
    â€œThat’s a nice school, from what I hear.”
    â€œYeah, it is. Our paper competes for a national award every year.”
    As soon as it was out of my mouth, I knew it was the wrong thing to say. He stood up so fast his chair wobbled. “You want to use Annabel’s death to win an award ?” He flung his arm toward the door. “Get out. Get out now .”
    The darkness in his eyes chilled me to my veins. I grabbed my backpack off the table and clutched it to me. But I couldn’t just leave. He was the only connection I had to Annabel. I could feel him everywhere in her heart. Even the timbre of his voice squeezed my insides. I looked up into his face.
    â€œI’m sorry. I didn’t know. When I went looking for her, she was just research. But after learning…what she was…and meeting you…she’s not.”
    Heat constricted my throat. I swiped the tears at the corners of my eyes. It wasn’t an act. She wasn’t