Olivia's POV
I keep my eyes focused on the building at the end of the street while trying to forget about Samuel's watchful eyes scanning every inch of my body. We are walking down the street, making our way to the police station, so I can report the partial license plate I remembered.
"Stop being such a creep." I glare at him. Just because I didn't go to the hospital as he wanted, doesn't mean I'm going to suddenly collapse.
A man in his late forties, who is standing with his phone pressed to his ear, looks at me like I just told him that I'm being haunted by a ghost, but I just smile at him and focus back on the police station at the end of the street.
Five steps away from the front entrance I press my toes into the tips of my shoes and stop. I whirl around and scan our surroundings. Countless cars are parked on both sides of the road, while at least two dozen people are strolling up and down the busy street. Which one of them is it?
"What are you doing?" Samuel stops beside me.
"I've been feeling like we're being watched ever since we got off the bus." I continue to sweep through the street, yet no matter where I look no one seems suspicious enough.
"I told you we should head to the hospital first." Samuel grabs my hand and begins to pull me away from the police station.
Before he can complete a full step, I tear my hand out of his hold and head into the police station. This time I don't need to ask for directions and instead make a beeline for officer Wright's desk. Yet the officer is nowhere to be found.
"Olivia?"
I turn in the direction my name came from, but instead of officer Wright, I'm met with officer Davis's curious eyes. He detaches himself from what I assume is his desk and makes his way to me.
"Wright isn't here," he says. "He was called to the hospital because of his son."
"Nick?" For a moment I forget why I'm here. "Is he okay?"
"Not Nick. His younger son, Charlie."
"Oh." I feel a little bad for the wave of relief that floods my body, but I push the unwanted feeling down before it can distract me. "Is it anything serious?"
"I'm not sure. Since Wright is the only parent the two boys have, he immediately rushed to the hospital. But what are you doing here?"
"I'm here because I remembered something else about the accident. I now know both the car's color and a part of its license plate."
"Really?" Davis's almost invisible eyebrows shoot up. He grabs a pad and a pen from Wright's desk and scribbles down every detail I tell him. "I'll tell the guys upstairs to match the partial license plate with the description of the man you gave us."
Davis then leaves, and because I don't have any other business here, I turn around to leave as well. Samuel's next words, however, nail me to my spot.
"I was right," he says with a smug grin splattered across his lips. "You don't need to hurt yourself to bring back your memories."
"That's notâ" I'm about to disagree when I realize it's exactly what happened. I didn't hurt myself, yet I still remembered a quick part of the accident. "It's just an abnormality. Yes, that's it."
Because we're still inside the police station, I keep my voice low and try not to move my mouth too much. After all, the last thing I want is for a police officer to question who I'm talking to.
"Olivia?"
I turn to the entrance of the room where my eyes land on Mrs. Davis. She is making her way in between the numerous desks while carrying a red and black cube-shaped lunch bag in both of her hands.
"Olivia," she greets me with one of her beautiful smiles. "What brings you here?"
"I remembered something about the accident." What I'm about to say next evaporates out of my mind the moment the sweet wooden scent of barbecue caresses my nostrils. "I'm guessing you're here to bring officer Davis his lunch."
"You're right." She smiles down at the lunch bag. "Oh, I see your cast is off. Does this mean you're all better now?"
The moment she mentions the cast I remember the last time I saw her and why exactly she has been lingering in the back of my mind all of this time.
"Last time at the hospital you said I helped you and your husband."
"Yes." She nods. "Because of you I was able to get my medicine and my husband didn't need to leave my side when I was in such a weak state. We will forever be grateful to you for that."
"Your medicine?" I try to search my brain for anything connected to the Davis' and medicine, but I come up empty. "Why would I bring you medicine?"
"Why, because my husband asked your father, and he then asked you as he wasn't in town."
"My dad?" As far as I know, I haven't spoken to him ever since he left for his business trip a few days before the accident. So, how can he be connected to any of it? "Where do you live, Mrs. Davis?"
"We live on Southeast 105th Avenue. Why?"
"105th?" Samuel says, reminding me that he is still standing beside me. "That's near the intersection."
"That's it." I snap my fingers and then point my index finger in Mrs. Davis's direction. "This must be the reason why I was there that night."
"What?" For the first time, Mrs. Davis's smile falters.
"Thank you." I grasp her free hand in between mine and give it a soft squeeze.
Then without another second to waste, I bolt out of the police station. I only manage to take one step through the front entrance before Samuel grasps my shoulder and forces me to stop. He pulls me to the side of the entrance, so I'm not blocking anyone's path, and then forces me to look at him.
"What are you thinking?" he asks.
"Don't you see?" I barely keep myself from bouncing up and down on my tiptoes. "Me bringing them medicine must be the reason why I was in that part of town. I need to call Dad right now."
When I reach for my pockets, however, I finally remember that my phone was destroyed during the accident. And I still haven't got around to buy a new one.
"Shoot." I stomp my foot against the sidewalk.
"Calm down," Samuel says. "There's no need toâ"
Before he can finish, I spin away from him and run my eyes along the street. On my right, a woman is walking in our direction, with her eyes glued to the phone in her hands.
Bingo.
I take a step in her direction, but before I can take the second one, Samuel tugs on my hand. This forces me to stop yet again and turn back to face him.
"You know your father's number?" he asks.
"Who cares." I don't have the time to be patient and rational. I want to know if my dad really is the one who got me to bring medicine to Mrs. Davis on the night of the accident. "I need to call my dad."
I move to turn back to the woman, but Samuel tugs on my hand again. This time he uses more force, which causes me to spin around and land against his chest. With a huff, I press my palms against his thin sweater and look up to glare at him. Samuel, however, seems to have other things on his mind. The moment I turn my face up, he leans down and presses his lips against mine.
For a second I'm frozen in shock, unable to react. Then I tear my lips away from his. I try to move a step away from him, but he sneaks his hands around my lower back and keeps me pressed against his body.
"What are you doing?" I ask.
"You're being impulsive. Count to three, remember?"
Before I can put up a single word in protest, he leans back down and kisses me again. This time the kiss is much longer. It pushes all my thoughts about calling my dad out of my head until all that remains is the heat spreading over my body.
"We're," I tear my lips away from his, "still standing in front of the police station."
"Who cares." He is so close that his breath mixes with mine. "No one can see me. All they see are the kissing faces you're making at the wall."
I realize he's right. I must look like an idiot to the surrounding humans, yet despite knowing this I can't care less.
Instead, I embrace the moment of craziness. I rise onto my toes, wrap my hands around Samuel's neck, and show him what a truly distracting kiss feels like.
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- E