First Kisses

How can one person remember everything, and another remember nothing?


2. Forgetting.

The next day, the boy woke up and rolled himself out of bed. "Charlie! Hurry up or I'm leaving without you!" his brother shouted upstairs. "Just leave already, I'll walk!" he shouted back as he pulled on a pair of grey trousers and dragged himself over to his mirror. His hair had started to flick up at the ends from a deadly mixture of rain and a sleepless night. He picked up a comb and swept his fringe to one side before spraying on some deodorant and stuffing himself into his shirt. "Mum, where's my tie?" he shouted out of his door as he looked around a room that could easily be part of a where's wally annual. "Bathroom?" his mothers voice called back, he walked into the bathroom and looked around; "No, anywhere else?" he asked as he picked up some hair wax and tried to tame the mane he was sporting. He heard a door slam downstairs and assumed his mother had just left the building, so clambered down stairs and stuffed some books into his bag. "Have you seen my tie Samus?" he asked the family dog as she padded her way towards him. "Well fuck me side-ways. You actually have!" he laughed, spotting the unusual collar around her golden neck.

"Is she here yet?" Charlie asked his friends after a 10 minute sprint to school. They all shrugged and continued their conversations as he walked past them. He rummaged in his bag and stuffed a cube of chewing gum into his mouth as he walked down empty school corridors, trying to avoid old teachers who wanted to know why he wasn't taking their subjects anymore. "Is she here yet?" he asked his art teacher as he entered the small, cozy studio. "Over there." The teacher replied quietly.

Charlie took a seat in the corner of the room and placed a canvas on the table beside him as the girl entered silently. "Hi..." he muttered as she located the canvas beside him and sat. "So, how are you today?" he asked, placing his hand on the desk next to hers.
"I'm sorry... Do we know each other?" she asked, her face completely blank.

Charlie stared at her, nothing was wrong with her. She was perfect. She was intelligent, funny, understanding and beautiful. Her green eyes seemed distant and cloudy; as if hidden by a protective veil. "Not very well I guess..." he replied with a piercing pain through his chest. He tried to block the previous nights events from his mind and swallow his feelings as she turned away from him and became absorbed in her painting. "Your hair looks nice by the way..." he muttered, noticing her chestnut curls and smiling to himself. "Oh, thanks!" she smiled, clutching some of the curls in her hand and turning to face him; "I don't know why, but I felt like going natural today!"
"It suits you!" Charlie chuckled in response. Something had managed to remain from the previous meeting. It was progress. After a few minutes, Charlotte spoke again. Causing a startled Charlie to look up;

"I don't know if you know this, but I have a really weird... thing where I don't remember my relationships with people... So, I'm really sorry if we are like best friends or something..." she stuttered, looking at him with a glimmer of recognition. Charlie told her not to worry, that they got along really well and that he knew all about her condition. After all; they went through the same routine every morning.

First first kiss; forgotten.

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