He Took the Memory Potion Instead of Me Chapter 02

He Took the Memory Potion Instead of Me Chapter 02

Something had been wrong with me for as long as I could remember.

There was something rotten inside me, and it never stopped festering.

I hated every privileged rich kid, every person who got to coast through life.

The ones who waved goodbye to their parents at school drop-off with those big, easy smiles—I hated them most of all.

But I hid it well. On the surface, I was well-liked.

I knew if I let even a sliver of the real me show, it was over.

Everyone would recoil and never look back.

My brother was the only person on earth who knew what I was and stayed anyway.

When I was little, I stole a toy train from a neighbor’s kid. My parents were disgusted.

They tried to send me away. My brother held on to me and wouldn’t let go.

Whenever my parents fought, they’d see the train drawings I’d scrawled on the walls and take it out on me.

My brother would sneak into my room after midnight and patch me up.

“Once I start making money, I’ll get you out of here. I’ll take you on a real train—somewhere far, far away.”

That was his promise.

He had the kind of smile that made his whole face soft, his eyes crinkling almost shut.

“I’ll never leave you.”

He jumped off a building when he was twenty-four.

His note was one line.

[I love you, Maren. I’m sorry.]

After that, nothing was the same.

Twenty-four became the end of the line. The destination we’d never reach.

And I understood, with a certainty that settled into my bones, that people only ever got close just to walk away.

Then Callum’s love letter showed up.

I looked at the boy who’d just transferred in from some private school.

He looked untouched. Like the world hadn’t gotten to him yet—all clean lines and pale skin, almost glowing.

Then I looked down at the messily scrawled line in his “love letter.”

[Hey. I think you’re awesome. I hope you stay safe and happy, and live to be a hundred.]

Underneath, he’d drawn a massive heart and a thumbs-up.

I turned right around and handed the note to the teacher.

But Callum sure as hell hadn’t transferred to our school for the academics.

He orbited me constantly, trying not to be obvious about it and failing completely.

My parents wouldn’t even pay for SAT prep books.

Callum bought an entire stack of the best prep books he could find and crammed them into my desk.

He’d watched me pick nothing but the cheapest sides in the cafeteria, day after day.

Callum swiped my meal card and loaded five hundred dollars onto it.

When I got into the honors track, Callum—who could barely pass a quiz—had his family pull strings to land him in the same class.

After that, he was everywhere. In class, between classes, at lunch—I’d catch him watching me from the corner of his eye every single time.

I started to wonder if he was following some kind of video game quest log.

Win the girl or die trying. No other options.

Once, I asked him straight out why he cared so much.

Callum blinked, caught off guard. Then he grinned—wide, warm, no hesitation.

“No reason.”

“I just like making you happy. That’s it. Is that so wrong?”

That was the moment something cracked open in my chest, and my heart spiraled out of control.

I let myself believe.

Maybe Callum could be the second person in this world—after my brother—who’d see all of me and not run away.

So in the end, I was the one who reached for him first.