August 15, 2010

My eyes opened wide, catching blurred images of faces dangling over my head. Voices swam through my ears, drawing me out of my sleepy haze. I wasn't sure how many, but whoever was around me was speaking so softly I couldn't hear what they were saying.

Where am I? Who is that?

Blinking rapidly, I lifted my fists to my eyes and rubbed them into focus, pulling the doubled image back into one.

A face lowered, hanging just above my nose, as a set of deep blue eyes began to emerge, turning from fuzzy orbs into crystal clear pools. His face was serious and concerned as he slipped his hands under my shoulders and sat me upright. “Honey, are you alright?” the older man asked, worry highlighting the sound of his voice.

“I. . . I don't know. I think so.” Forcing my vision to steady, I looked around, trying to figure out where I was. I didn't have a clue, nothing really looked familiar.

There were tall trees swaying above me, their long arms waving and bouncing against the bright skyline. A cool breeze bristled my skin, forcing a shiver to run from head to toe. Rubbing my hands up and down my arms, I shook my head, trying to understand what was happening.

“Why. . . Who. . .” I spoke the words quietly, barely a whisper against my tongue. I was so confused, trapped in a world that was spinning on its axis. My head began to throb as the tree tops and clouds all swirled together making me feel dizzy. Scrunching my brows, I tried to drudge up one single memory that led me to this place.

But there were no words or thoughts, nothing that jumped out to give me answers. The urge to stand roared in my head, and that was the only thing I wanted to do. I had to get up. I needed to stand.

Shifting, I pushed my hands into the cold ground, using all the effort I had to rise to my feet. Damp grass squished between my fingers, and water logged dirt soiled my palms. Clutching the mud, I dug my nails in, begging for the earth to show me why I was there.

I'm outside? Why am I outside?

How did I get here?

Bending my legs, I grunted, attempting to climb to my feet. But a nauseous rumble turned my stomach, forcing me to keel over and grab my belly.

“I think I'm going to throw up.” Gagging, I fell back, muscles shaking as if I had forgotten how to use them. I felt weak and shaky, like I had suffered a battle with an illness that devoured me from the inside out while I slept.

What happened? Why am I here?

A million questions filled my brain, but I was left empty and answer-less. There were no memories flooding in, no pictures of past movements that led me to where I was. Nothing.

“Easy now, easy, don't move to fast.” The man gripped my shoulders, holding me steady. Drifting his gaze around my body, he scanned up and down. “Are you hurt? Do you feel any pain anywhere?”

Rocking my wrists, I moved my arms and hands in slow circles. Wriggling my feet, I bent my knees up and down. “I don't think so. I just feel like I'm going to be sick.”

“That's alright, if you need to puke, puke. As long as you're not hurt, that's all I care about right now. Are you sure you're not injured?” Shaking my head yes, he lifted the back of his hand to my face and touched my cheek, slowly moving up to my forehead. “You don't feel like you have a fever. Can you tell me what happened? How did you get here?”

Racking my brain, I tried to round up my memories. I was drawing a blank. Closing my eyes, I pinched my nose, dipping my head into my chest. “Uh, I'm not sure. I can't remember what happened. Where am I exactly?”

“You're in the woods behind my house.” The man watched me cautiously, moving his hand to my shoulder. “I'm Nick, can you tell me your name?”

“My name. . . Uh, my name's. . .”

What's my name?

I can't remember my name. . . Why can't I remember my name?!

Lifting my eyes to his, I watched his expression harden as concern and worry drenched his face. Thick lines creased his forehead, and bushy brows crawled up towards his hairline like caterpillars. I could tell by the way he stared at me that my lack of memory wasn't a good thing.

That worried me. What could have happened to cause everything in my brain to disappear?

I should know the answer to his question without having to think about it at all. But all I could hear in my head was wind and dust blowing tumble weeds through an empty cavern.

Clearing his face of any distress, he spoke soft and slow. “Do you know your name, Sweetheart?”

Shaking my head no, tears started to fill my eyes. “I. . . I can't remember.”

Nick's hand flattened on my back as he rubbed it tenderly, his touch caring and fatherly. “That's alright, we'll figure this out. Don't cry little one, I'll help you. Do you remember where you live or how old you are? What about your family, can you remember them?”

Plucking at my lip, I peered blankly at the ground. I couldn't find the words, I couldn't see any faces or hear any voices from a mother or a father, siblings, friends—Nothing.

This is crazy! I can't remember anything about who I am!

“No, I don't remember anything at all.” Hanging my head, I wiped my face, as my chest began to ache with every breath, and tears drenched my cheeks.

Yesterday didn't exist, who I was and where I came from was gone. It was as if I had just been reborn, taking in my first breath, my first view of the world, my first smell of the air. Because before that moment, there was nothing but vast darkness.

“What happened to me?” Picking at my fingers, I tugged at the nail beds, keeping my eyes in my lap. I felt exhausted and drained, every inch of my body screamed with pain.

But it wasn't a pain from an injury or falling down. I didn't have any open wounds or large scrapes. There were no bruises or bumps that indicated I had been in some sort of fight.

Everything I felt, it was emotional torment. It was all the hurt of not knowing.

My head was pounding with the worst headache I had ever experienced, my stomach cramped and knotted with tight spasms I couldn't control. I wanted to throw up, I wanted to scream, I wanted to jump up and run until everything came back, crashing into my head like a grenade went off.

But I couldn't move, I was frozen in place, unable to connect my thoughts to my muscles and make them work.

It was all too much for my young brain to process. My mind was a tornado of questions, unable to stay trained on one single thought.

Where is my family? Do I even have a family?

Who am I? Where did I come from?

How in the world did I get here?

My breathing became erratic and labored as the air seemed to thicken, attempting to drown me where I sat. Heaping mouthfuls of oxygen tore up my insides, burning my lungs like hot coals.

“I can't breathe, I can't breathe—” Holding my chest, I dropped forward, trying to slow everything down. But I couldn't. My mouth was open wide, but my throat had closed. My lungs clenched tight, jerking with painful leaps to taste the air.

Cocking my head up, my eyes met the man's, and they begged him for help. I didn't blink, openly gawking with nothing but hurt and confusion on my face. I didn't know what to do or how to stop my body from reacting the way it was.

Pulling me into his chest, Nick hugged me. “It's alright, calm down. I don't know what happened, but everything will be fine. I promise, everything will be alright.” His arms wrapped around me like a blanket, holding me tight.

I could smell his cologne and there was something about it that made my breathing slow down and my muscles stop shaking. It was soothing, musky with a hint of mint, the scent calmed my nerves, giving me a sliver of peace in the chaos that had gobbled me up.

Tears continued to fall effortlessly as I let my body snuggle into his, allowing him to hold me like a father would hold his daughter.

“Dad, is she alright?” A young boy's voice crept in from behind us, his tone wary and unsure.

“Yeah, she's okay. Come on over here.” With a firm arm around my shoulder, Nick held out his hand to the foreign voice, and waved him in. “This is my son Birch, he's the one who found you.”

“Hey,” he said, stealing a quick glance at my face then looking to the ground. “Are you sure she's alright?”

“She will be, Birch, she's going to be just fine. Come on, let's get you in the house and get you some water.” Helping me to my feet, Nick guided me through the trees while his son trailed a little behind us.

I could feel Birch watching me as I stumbled over fallen branches and staggered across the uneven ground. His eyes were like weights, pulling on every piece of my body they touched.

When they hit my shoulders my spine pressed down. When they sunk into my neck, the hair stood up and prickled my skin.

But when I looked at him, his eyes flicked away. I didn't understand why he wouldn't look me in the eyes. There was a hint of fear in his gaze, a sheen of fright that coated his pupils. It didn't make sense. Why would he be afraid of me?

Caught in a daze, his father pulled me back, his voice cutting through the sounds of breaking branches. “Our house is right through here, only a little bit further. How you doing? You alright?”

“Yeah, I'm okay.” I could see the shape of a house forming as the forest thinned, and we stepped out into the clearing of a backyard.

A huge house created the backdrop, with brick siding and a stone patio. A kidney- shaped, in-ground pool sparkled like crystal to my left, while full flower beds colored the lower half of the house in pops of purple and red.

Arching my neck, giant windows peered back at me, causing my reflection to morph and twist as the sunset teased my doppelganger. It was a bizarre feeling to see my face, to know that the person staring back was actually me, and have no memory of what I looked like.

Stopping short, I took in my reflection, learning my features all over again. My hair was made of big brown curls, tousled and knotted, with broken flakes of leaves and debris tangled in the locks. My eyes were dark brown, I assumed, but it was hard to tell against the glass.

All my limbs looked thin and brittle under the skin, like I hadn't eaten in ages and my body had started to find its food from within. I had on a dirty blue t-shirt with a unicorn in the center, spouting the phrase, 'You're awesome,' and nothing else but a pair of shorts, and filthy white socks.

I was shocked and captivated all in the same breath. Reaching for my cheeks, I stroked the cold skin, feeling myself to make sure this was true, that what I was seeing was actually real.

It was.

This wasn't a dream, I wasn't waking up, coddling a thick comforter and tear-soaked pillow. I was a ghost to myself, a mirage of a young girl that once had a life, a past, an entire world that didn't exist anymore.

Strong fingers squeezed the outside of my arms, and Nick leaned over to whisper in my ear. “It's all right, we'll get you cleaned up, don't worry about what you see.” Ushering me along, he started forward again.

Hesitantly, I allowed his hands to manipulate me through the yard and to the door. “This is your house?” I asked, my voice still not registering inside my head as my own.

“Yeah, it's Birch, myself, and his mother, my wife Valentina.” Nodding his head at his son, he eyed the door.

Birch jogged ahead a few steps, folding down the handle to let us through. Leading me to a long wood table, Birch pulled out a chair and Nick sat me down.

Combing his thick fingers through my hair, he smiled. “I don't want you to worry, no matter what, I'll take care of you. I'm going to make a few calls and see if we can figure this out. Relax here, Birch will get you some water and keep you company until I get back. Sound good?”

“Okay.” Forcing a smile, I slouched in the seat, resting my hands in my lap. “Thank you.”

Running flat palms down my head and over my shoulders, his smile widened. “Don't thank me, you don't need to. I'll be back in a bit.” Nudging my chin with his fist, he turned and walked out of the room, disappearing around the corner.

For the first time since I opened my eyes, I felt some hope. Nick was going to find the answers, he was going to find out who I was and where I belonged. That thought dried my tears, it gave me something to cling to instead of feeling like everything was spiraling out of control.

Taking in a deep breath, I tugged my shirt down further so it covered my knees, and looked around the room. Their house was gorgeous. Everything sparkled and twinkled like it had been waxed and shined.

Silver and gold trinkets rested on a shelf above the sink. The fridge was made of stainless steel, completely barren of any pictures or magnets. A giant wicker bowl of fruit was set in the center of the table, cradled by two tall candles in crystal holders.

Staring at my hands, dirt had embedded itself under my nails, covering my skin and arms. Wiping my palms on my shirt, I tried to clean them off. I was too dirty to be sitting in that house.

It felt like I didn't belong there, as if I was a peasant given clearance to sit in a castle. My filth was a disease, my dirt a calling card to the status I held in that room.

Frantically I rubbed and rubbed the skin until it started to turn red and raw. I wanted it gone, I wanted any reminder of where I had crawled out of erased.

Come on, get off.

Brushing my fingers through my hair, I pulled and plucked at the bits of leaves and tiny sticks. The small debris floated into my lap, dressing my shirt like soiled snowflakes.

“Don't worry about that, just sit and relax like my dad said.” The faucet gushed on, and the sound of water spilled into a cup. Soft feet tapped to my side, and Birch rested the glass of water down in front of me. “Here, try not to drink it too fast.”

Birch slipped into the chair across from me, and I glanced up with a light smile. “Thanks.” Curling my fingers around the cup, I lifted it to my lips and took small sips.

Birch sat staring at me. He had that same look I had seen outside. Fear, discomfort, uncertainty, it was all there, lashing my skin like whips from a belt. He didn't know what to make of the girl who ended up in his woods.

He doesn't know what to think. . . How the hell does he think I feel?

With jet black hair and a jaw that was still young but forming, I guessed he was about fourteen. He was too young to have knowledge earned by experience, but he looked like he had lived a million years of suffering.

It was hard to make sense of what I was seeing, of the eyes looking at me, reading me, wondering about me.

Nervously, his fingers tapped against the table, and his leg jerked up and down against the floor. “So, you really can't remember anything?”

Swallowing the cold water, it quenched my dry throat and made me feel a little bit more normal, and not as shaky. “No, nothing at all.”

“Are you sure? You really can't remember anything before this?”

“No, I can't.”

Why is he asking me it like that?

Does he not believe me?

Why would I make that up?

Crooking his jaw, his eyes bounced around my face. “And you're sure of that? Nothing? Not one thing?” His questions came out more like an accusation, like he thought I was holding back, and my claims weren't real.

That wasn't true. I was trying like hell to force it out, but there was nothing there for me to grab.

“Yes, I'm sure. Do you think I'm lying?” Angling my head, I traced the rim of the glass with the tip of my finger. I was angry that he was asking me that way, that his tone insinuated he didn't trust what I was saying, and I was full of shit.

“No, I don't think you're lying, it's just. . .” Pausing, he pulled his eyes away, staring at anything that wasn't my face. “It's just strange, that's all.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, like he had so many more words to give me. But he didn't, he stopped there, hanging his head and braiding his fingers together.

“How old are you?” I asked, taking another drink from the cup.

“Fifteen.”

I was close.

We both sat quietly for a few seconds, but that silence was uncomfortable. I wanted to talk and learn, with the hopes that conversation was the key to my memories coming back. I could feel it, I could feel that my past was there, but it felt like it was on mute.

“How old do you think I am?”

Shrugging his shoulder, he lifted his head. “I don't know, about my age.”

“Hm, maybe.”

He could be right, it felt like that was the right answer, but I didn't know for sure.

“I've never seen you around here before, so I don't think you live here.” Popping his eyes open wide, his mouth dropped into his chest. “I've got an idea, we could look through my yearbook, maybe you're a little older than me.”

That's perfect!

“Yeah, let's do that. Can you go get it?”

Birch jumped from the seat and ran out of the room. He wasn't gone long, only a minute or two before he returned with a big book under his arm. “We can go through tenth grade. I'm in ninth, so I know you're not in my grade.”

“Ninth?”

“Yeah, my parents kept me back in kindergarten. My dad said he didn't think I was ready to move up. It is what it is, I didn't have a say in it. Like everything else around here, it's not up to me.” His eyes flickered, pupils dancing in the sockets as he looked at me.

I was tempted to ask him what he meant, why he had said it with such disdain for his father. Wasn't that how it worked? Weren't your parents the ones who made all the decisions?

Angling my head, I parted my lips, ready to question him. But I stopped myself. It didn't really matter what his relationship was like with his parents. I needed to find out who I was, I needed to go home, to my parents.

“Do you think I'm in there?” I asked, pushing a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“I don't know, let's find out.” Pulling out the seat next to me, he flipped through the pages until he found the section he was looking for. Folding the yearbook open on the table, we both started scanning the pictures.

Throwing out my finger, I pointed at a young girl. “That kind of looks like me.” She had the same hair, same small round nose. The resemblance was so close, my heart started to beat faster as I leaned in closer. Thinning my lips with disappointment, I shook my head. “No, no it's not. Keep going.”

We went through every single picture, and nothing. I wasn't in there. I came from another place, a different school or city all together. It was deflating to not find my image in that book. I was really hoping that it would have been that easy.

I was praying that I had just been out for a walk and hit my head, and that my parents were only a few blocks away. Or that I had gotten lost and disoriented, and in a panic my brain had shut down completely, erasing everything I had once known.

Nothing was that simple. It would never be that simple.

After about an hour, Nick came back into the room, but he had no answers. He said he had called the police to see if there were any reports of missing children, and that he had tried the hospital too to see if any parents had called looking for their child.

It was a dead end, no one had yet.

No one is looking for me. . .

My eyes began to well up, the water bubbling over the surface and teetering on the thin edge of my lids. Dipping my head into my chest, I tried not to cry. I didn't want to let myself get worked up again just because the answers hadn't jumped out right away.

But I couldn't ignore the feelings that came over me. I felt lost and abandoned, unloved, unwanted and not missed.

What type of parents did I have?

Why weren't they looking for me?

You don't know anything yet. Maybe I haven't been missing for that long? Maybe I'm supposed to be somewhere else and they haven't noticed I'm gone yet.

But I don't look like I just vanished, it looks like I've been out here for a while.

Maybe I ran away. . .

“Don't let this get you down,” Nick said, tipping my head up so he could look me in the eyes. “This doesn't end here, we'll keep looking. For now, you're welcome to stay with us for as long as you need to.”

“I can't thank you enough for this. I don't know where I'd go or what I'd do if you hadn't found me.”

“Our home is your home, you don't have to worry about having nothing.” Smiling, he nudged my chin with his fist. “I'm going to make sure that no matter what, you're taken care of.”

Nick made me feel welcomed, he made me feel safe in their home. There was an extra bedroom I could use, and Birch gave me some clean clothes to wear.

And even though I was scared, sad, angry—painfully aware of the fact that no one was out there looking for me yet; having this family beside me felt good.

Tomorrow was a new day. The police would help me, they would get it out there that a young girl was desperately seeking the family she had lost. My memories would eventually come back, and all of this would be behind me. . .

Luck was a funny thing. It either rained on you day after day or left you out to dry and turn to dust.

But my luck, it was backwards. My luck had delivered me to a family, it had dropped me into the lives of people who cared about me even though they didn't know me.

It had erased what I knew and gave me something special.

Maybe what's behind me isn't worth finding at all.

Nick arched a brow, rubbing his chin in thought. “We need to call you something until we find out who you are. What do you want us to call you?”

“I. . . I don't know.”

“Well, you need a name, little one. How about Julie?” Scrunching my face, I furrowed my brows. That name didn't fit, it just didn't feel like me. “Okay, that's a no.” Taking a step back, he crossed his arms over his chest. “Bella? That's a nice name.”

“What about Cyprus?” Birch chimed in, pushing the yearbook across the table and turning in his seat. “You were under a Cyprus tree when I found you, it's a pretty name.”

Cyprus. . . I like it.

One year later

“Hey, I've got something to show you.” Birch poked my shoulder and smirked. “Come on, follow me.”

Placing the magazine on my thighs, I pushed my sunglasses up. “Follow you where?”

“It's a surprise.”

“A surprise? What kind of surprise?”

Shoving my leg with his foot, he playfully snapped. “Just get up, enough with all the questions.”

“This better be good.” Swinging my legs off the lounge chair, I grabbed my sun dress and slipped it over my head. “Do I need shoes for this?”

“Yeah, and bring your towel.” Birch jogged to the patio doors and yelled inside. “Mom, Cyprus and I will be back in a bit!”

Valentina stepped to the screen door, wiping flour-covered hands on a dish towel. “Where are you two going?”

His mother was amazing. She came from Italy, and nothing she ever made came from a box. The woman would spend hours kneading dough for pasta, breads, and everything in between. For the past year she had even been home schooling me.

Since Nick still didn't have any new answers about who I was, I couldn't enroll in Birch's school. We were all guessing that I was the same age as Birch, but we didn't know for sure, and we didn't know why or how I ended up out in the woods. Nick and Valentina had decided it was best for me to just stay there where it was safe.

It still hurt to not know who I was exactly, but I was happy living there. They treated me like I was their daughter, not once did I ever feel like I didn't belong.

Each day the pain I felt became lighter, and less of a burden to my emotions. It never went away, but it wasn't always in the front of my mind. I was beginning to feel at home, like this was the family I was meant to have all along.

Drawing her hand over Birch's forehead, she pushed his hair back out of his face. “I don't want you two out causing trouble, Birch.” Her long brown hair fell around her face, the thick braid swinging down over her shoulder and swaying back and forth. Eyeing us both curiously, she arched a brow in wonder.

Swatting her hand away, he ruffled his hair back into place. “No, Mom, I want to show her. . .” Whispering, he leaned in closer and covered his mouth so I couldn't hear what he was saying.

His mom smiled and nodded her head. “Just be careful.” Birch turned and started back towards me, but stopped short as his mother spoke. “Dinner is at six, don't be late, your father is having guests tonight.”

“Got it, six o'clock, no problem.” Grinning, he walked quickly, snatching my wrist as he passed by and headed towards the woods. “Come on, you're going to love this.”

We hiked for a bit through the trees and thick foliage. Birch kept glancing at me with excited eyes and a big toothy smile. But he refused to tell me where he was taking me.

“It's just a little bit further.”

Wiping sweat off my forehead, I groaned. “That's what you said twenty minutes ago.”

“I swear, it really is.” Stopping at a ridge, he turned to face me. “Okay, close your eyes.”

“What? Why?”

“Just close your eyes, Cyprus. Trust me, it will be worth it.”

Stuffing my arms into my ribs, I kicked my hip out. “Alright, but if you're messing with me, and I open my eyes to a dead animal or something—”

Holding out his hand, he cut me off. “It's not a dead animal, I promise. Just shut your eyes.”

Pursing my lips, I did what he asked, and closed them tight. I felt his hands curl gently around my wrists, and butterflies began to swarm in my belly. His touch had started to affect me differently lately than it used to.

Most of the time he would give me a playful punch or he would tug my hair and laugh. Birch liked to mess with me, teasing me with stupid pranks and things only an immature boy would find funny.

Normally I would yell at him, hitting him back and storming off annoyed. Then something changed, he stopped his games and his touch became tender and delicate. He would look at me with more in his eyes than just a kid who got his jollies out of being a pain in the ass.

What I don't think he realized was that I had started to enjoy his touch, to crave that tiny bit of intimacy. I found myself brushing my shoulder against his if we passed in the hall just to get that warm and fuzzy feeling in my gut. I would wait for him to be in the kitchen and would purposely go and get something out of a cupboard he was near just so I could smell his cologne or graze his body in some way.

It was stupid, I knew that. All the little ways I manipulated my position just to feel his skin on mine. I couldn't help it, it was like I was falling into this rabbit hole of desire I couldn't explain and didn't understand.

But his touch today was so different. He initiated this contact, he brought his fingers to my skin and I sensed a change. Right then, when he gripped my wrists and held my arms, everything inside my body screamed with delight.

Birch's fingertips were careful and soft as the pads of his fingers pressed against my pulse. There was no strength or force behind it, no joking tickle or blindsided wet finger in my ear.

His skin sizzled against mine, forcing a tingle to run up my arm and curl around my ribs. My heart slammed around inside my chest, thudding so loudly I thought he might be able to hear it where he stood.

Guiding me forward, he pulled me along. “Don't open them, keep them closed.”

“I will, don't worry. I won't peek.” His thumbs softly swirled over the nubs on my wrists, and my skin ignited in goosebumps, sending sharp hairs up my arms.

Swallowing hard, I kept my eyes sealed shut and took in a few deep breaths to try and calm my nerves.

Stopping, he released my arms, and the ground crunched as he stepped up to my side. “Okay, you can look now.”

Peeling my eyes open, I looked out onto a glistening pond. A giant rock protruded from in the middle, and the water was so clear I could see right to the bottom.

I didn't speak, I couldn't. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

“Pretty sweet, huh?”

“It's amazing, Birch.” Leaning over the edge, I looked down. “How high up are we?”

“It's only fifteen feet, maybe a little more.” Peeling off his shirt, he dropped it to the ground.

The sun hit his chest and I noticed how muscular he had become. It was as if over these past few months his body had gone from boy into full blown man.

His pecs were firm with defined lines. A thin bushel of hair decorated the center of his chest, disappearing and picking up at his naval. I tried not stare, but it was useless.

These feelings I was having for him were growing out of control. My body would get all tingly and hot, my heart would pick up and start to beat faster and faster until I thought it was going to shoot out of my chest.

I fought it, I tried to wrangle the emotions he brought out. But every day it seemed harder and harder to keep my hormones in check.

“You ready?” he asked, giving me a wink.

“Ready for what?”

Birch's lips rolled towards his ears, cheeks puffing with a grin. Taking one long step back, he turned his head out towards the water and jumped. “Wooo!” he yelled, his voice echoing off the tamed glass surface.

I heard him splash into the water before I could get to the edge. Looking down, he was smiling up at me with one closed eye. “Come on! Your turn!”

“I'm not sure about this!” I called down, shaking my head. “Are you sure it's deep enough?”

“Trust me, Cyprus.”

“But what if I land on a rock or something?”

“Stop being a pussy and just jump already! You got this, trust me!” The way he said it made me believe him. Birch was always so confident, so sure of himself and his ideas.

Taking a deep breath, I stood up, shaking my hands by my sides. Stepping back a few feet, I closed my eyes.

I didn't think about how far down the water was, or the rocks I could see just under the surface. I trusted him, I trusted him with everything I had.

And I jumped.

The water was cold, splashing up my nose and making it burn. Kicking my feet, I swam back to the top, taking in a huge gulp of air.

Waving my arms back and forth through the water, I spun in a circle, looking for Birch. But he was gone.

“Birch! Birch!” Twisting my head back and forth, I started to worry that I had landed on him when I jumped in and knocked him out.

Oh God, where is he? Where the hell is he?

“Ahh!” I screamed as he lurched out from under the water, right next me.

“Nice jump, great form.” Laughing, he tipped his head back, dipping his hair into the water to get it out of his eyes.

Splashing water into his face, I snapped. “You just scared the shit out of me!”

Our eyes connected, his smile fading as he paddled in so we were almost touching chest to chest. Every sound around us went silent. It felt like it was just the two of us, there were no birds chirping or trees rustling in the wind.

His lids hovered half open, as droplets of water balanced on the tips of his lashes, reminding me of crystal raindrops. Birch blinked, and I watched the tiny drops break free, cascading down his cheeks and disappearing into the wet hair on his chest.

The water shifted us together, causing our legs and feet to tangle. We didn't speak, we just stared into each others eyes.

My stomach went wild, turning and flipping. Tingles and electric pops hit my veins, making my blood bubble like lava.

We had never been that close before. Not like that, not half clothed, with no one around to stop us from doing something stupid.

Birch leaned in, bringing his lips to my ear. “Can I tell you something?”

I couldn't answer him. My tongue wouldn't work and my brain forgot how to speak as his words washed over my skin like silk. All I could do was nod.

“I like you, and I think you like me. But if I'm reading it all wrong, you have permission to slap me.”

Slap him? Why would I slap him?

Tipping my head a hair, I was about to ask him what he meant. I didn't have the chance.

His lips pressed against mine with a hard kiss. That was the first time I had been kissed by a boy—that I could remember.

His eyes were closed as his smooth lips massaged mine. Flapping my arms up and down to stay above water, my body went up in flames. I felt things I had never experienced before.

My stomach knotted, my ribs hurt, and my most sensitive spot had started to pulse. It was surreal, an out of body experience that I wasn't sure what to do with.

I knew what sex was, and I was well aware of the fact that neither one of us was prepared for that right now. But I didn't want him to stop, his lips felt so good against mine.

The small devil on my shoulder barked in my ear to keep going, to allow him to touch me in ways I had only dreamed about. The angel stepped in, reminding me that bad things can happen if we don't take precautions and things get out of control. I was at a loss, whose side was I supposed to take?

Do I pull away? Do I keep kissing him?

What are we doing here?!

I felt his tongue push past my lips, so I opened wider and accepted. The muscle was warm and wet, smooth and a little rougher than I expected. Swirling his tongue around mine, I copied his movement.

I wasn't too sure if I was doing it right, but he didn't stop me to give me a lesson or laugh at how awkward I was.

Birch kissed me.

And it felt right, it felt perfect, it felt like it was meant to be.

Pulling away, I hovered in the water, feeling like I was floating in the clouds.

Birch smiled, his mouth tinted red from where my lips had just been. “You didn't slap me. . .” Pausing, he bit his bottom lip with a grin. “Does that mean you liked it?”

Splashing him with water, I giggled. “Are you serious? Did you really think I would slap you?”

Raising his brows, he lifted his shoulders to his ears. “I don't really know what I expected.” Throwing his arms out, he tugged me into his waist, and lifted my legs around his hips. “But I liked it.” Kissing my cheek, he pressed his hands into my shoulder blades as he spoke. “Come on, we should probably head back.”

I didn't want to go to back. I wanted to stay there, wrapped in his arms, feeling his heart beat against mine.

Reluctantly I agreed, unfurling my body from his and swimming beside him to the small ledge at the bottom of the cliff.

The entire hike back to the house we held hands, and I knew right then, I loved him. I didn't tell him that, because I wasn't sure if he felt the same. But I knew what I was feeling.

He was the boy who had saved me. He was the reason I was alive. If he hadn't found me, who knows what would have happened.

And because of that, I loved him.

Even if he didn't love me back, it wouldn't change how I felt. But that kiss meant something. I felt it all the way in my chest, in my muscles, in my bones.

True love was a thing, it wasn't just something made up in fairytales. Sometimes fate placed you in the right place at the right time. And for me, that's exactly what I believed happened.

Maybe I was naive, maybe I was just a stupid girl drunk on the first boy she had ever kissed. But that was far from what I felt.

I felt like love had pushed us together. I felt like love had been the guiding force that placed me in those woods to begin with.

Hitting the end of the trees, Birch untangled our fingers and smiled. “Let's keep this between us for now. I don't want my parents to freak out or anything.”

“Yeah, that's probably a good idea. I'd hate for them to kick me out or something.”

“Exactly.” Leading the way through the yard, he glanced in the window. “Shit, I forgot about dinner.” Biting his lip he gave me a crooked look. “Let me do all the talking, I know how to handle my father.”

“Why? Is he really going to be that pissed?”

Shrugging his shoulder, his lips drew taut. “I guess that depends on who's here for dinner, and how it's going.” Gripping the handle, he pulled the door open as quietly as he could.

What the hell does that mean?

“You're late.” Nick gave us both an angry glare, flaring his nostrils. “And we have guests.”

There were two men at the table with his father. Both of the men were dressed to the nines in black suits, with a blue handkerchief puffing out from the breast pocket. Their hair was slicked back tight against their scalps, an angry scowl rested on both their faces.

“I'm sorry, we lost track of time.”

“You're sorry? You lost track of time? That's the best you could come up with?”

“Dad—”

“Don't.” Jerking an open palm into the air, he tilted his head. “Go upstairs, both of you. I don't want to see either of you the rest of the night.”

One of the men smirked, cupping his mouth with his hand. Whispering to Nick and the other man, he said, “Kids. . . I'd trade mine for yours any day. Ricki is doing five in the pen, something to be proud of right? Little shit has no idea how to keep a low profile, him and his big mouth.” All of them busted out with laughter, raising their glasses and clinking them together in some parental toast.

I had no idea what that man was talking about or why they all found it so funny. Following Birch to the stairs, I glanced over my shoulder one last time, pausing to look at the unknown men. There was a feeling in the air that made me uneasy, like it was a secret meeting and not a dinner for old friends.

Trying not to linger for too long, I watched them for a moment. The need to make sense of who they were and why they were here dressed like it was a fancy board meeting rattled my brain.

What are they talking about?

Quietly, the two of us made our way upstairs. Standing at my door, Birch rubbed a heavy hand over the back of his neck. “That wasn't too bad, things must be going well.”

“Who are those men?”

“Don't worry about them, they're just associates of my dad.”

Associates? Associates of what?

Maybe they're private detectives.

The thought made my heart skip with excitement. Nick had said the police had hit a dead end with my case, but he insisted that he would still work hard on it, and wouldn't give up. A fresh set of eyes could be just the thing we needed to find my family.

“Are they detectives? Do you think they're here to help find my family?”

Sighing, Birch's head drooped down, chin touching his chest. “I take it my dad hasn't told you yet.” Running a finger across the bottom of my chin, his eyes softened. “My dad told me the other day that he can't find your family, no one can. Not the police, not any of the detectives or organizations for missing children. I'm sorry, Cyprus, I know that's not what you want to hear. But he's going to let you live with us, he says you're a part of our family now anyway, you belong here.”

My heart tore open, spilling every piece of hope I had onto the floor. I watched my past seep into the carpet, disappearing as if it had never existed.

“Why didn't he tell me that? He said he wasn't giving up, why is he giving up?” Taking in heavy breaths, I held back the tears that tried to consume me.

“He doesn't want to give up, but there's nothing else he can do. He was suppose to tell you, I guess he was just waiting for the right time.” Reaching out, Birch held my hand. His eyes dimmed, burying the spark I had seen at the pond. He looked sorry for me, he looked like he wished he didn't have to tell me the bad news.

But there was never going to be a right time to tell me that. I wasn't going to have a future where my past became my present, not anymore. All my hopes and dreams, all my wishes on the countless falling stars I plucked from the sky would never be gifted.

My memories were gone. Whatever life I had lived wasn't returning. I didn't know my real name, I'd never know where I was born or how old I truly was. I couldn't remember the family that had forgotten me or what it was like to live under their roof.

Whoever I was before was gone.

My name was Cyprus now.

And my future was with this family.