Chapter 1:

(Rachel's POV)

I woke up, lying on the ground. I groaned, coughing. I felt like I had just swallowed a pill. It was as painful as the last time-

Why couldn't I remember that? I should have been able to remember that, just like I knew I lived in-

Come to think of it, where did I live? I couldn't remember.

I sat up. Okay, think, I thought to myself. What do you remember? I sifted through my mind, but I could only remember common knowledge, like the color of the sky is called blue, we live on a planet called Earth, and all sorts of things concerning modern society. I couldn't remember who my parents were; I didn't know what my house looked like. Did I even live in a house? I couldn't even remember my own name.

I felt something in the pocket of a jacket I didn't remember putting on (shocker). I put my hand in it to find a crumpled up piece of paper. Your name is Rachel Crawford, it read. That name didn't sound familiar to me, but if I didn't trust that piece of paper, I had nothing.

It didn't look like my handwriting- what did my handwriting look like? I couldn't remember. What a shock.

I tried to recall something, anything- that specified to my past in any way at all. At first, I didn't get anything, but then I got an image of a boy who looked about 14 or 15 years old. He had black- no, dark purple hair, and dark blue eyes. He was tall, and thin, and in my opinion, extremely attractive. All I could remember was his face. Nothing else.

(Randy's POV)

"Oh, you think you're gonna win, huh? That's cute. Guess I'll use my ninja sword!" I sliced through the monster using my ninja sword with no trouble at all. Both halves fell to the ground with a thud.

"Wow. That was a really hard monster to beat. That definitely wasn't your ordinary McFist 'bot," I thought out loud, even though no one had witnessed the fight. Because of that, I didn't even bother with a smokebomb this time, instead, I just ducked behind a tree and pulled off the ninja mask. I started to walk home, since the monster came just as Howard and I were walking out of school. Howard had had a family thing and couldn't stay to watch.

I looked around as I walked. For some reason, I had a feeling that something weird was about to happen. Focus, Cunningham. Nothing is off today. But at the same time, something had been weird ever since March 22nd- three days ago. The NinjaNomicon had been glowing nonstop, and every time I went into it, it had delivered the same cryptic message-"Deals with the ancient enemy cannot be erased, only replaced." And of course, I had replied with, "That would be great advice, if only I knew who the juice that so-called ancient enemy is! So it sent me out as if the answer was staring me in the face but I was too blind to see it, which is normally the case, but the Nomicon had to be wrong this time. I couldn't make a deal with a nonexistent enemy, since the only ancient enemy was the sorcerer, and you couldn't make a deal with someone imprisoned in a hole. Besides, I had a strange feeling that it wasn't referring to the sorcerer.

I saw a pretty girl with long, blonde hair sitting on the sidewalk, staring up at the sky with a faraway look in her light blue eyes. She seemed lost, so I went over to her.

"Are you ok? You look lost," I said as I knelt down in front of her.

"Yeah… I think so. Where am I?"

"You're in Norrisville."

(Rachel's POV)

Norrisville, he said. It sounded familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I looked at him a second time, and I realized it was him. The boy I remembered the face of. He was right in front of me.

"Who are you?" he asked. "What happened? How did you get here?"

"All I know is that my name is Rachel Crawford. I think. What's yours?"

"Randy Cunningham. Are you sure you don't remember anything? Not even a small piece of memory?" His name sounded right, familiar almost. But it wasn't enough to bring back anything. It was like something was blocking my memory, and I couldn't get rid of it.

"Not a thing, other than things everyone knows. Like the sky is blue, the trees are green, etc." I tried to stand up, but my knees were weak, and I sank right back down.

He stood up, offering me his hand. I took it, and he put my arm around him to help me stand up. "Do you know what happened to you? Did someone hurt you?"

"I'm clueless." I yawned. "But I do know I'm tired."

"Come on, I'll take you to my house. It'll probably come back to you after you sleep."

(Randy's POV)

"Hi, Randy," my mom said as I came into my house, still carrying Rachel, who seemed to be on the verge of sleep. "Who's she?" My mom grinned all of a sudden. "Randy, do you have something to tell me? Have you gotten your first girlfriend?"

My face turned red. "What? No, Mom. This is Rachel. I found her by the street. She seemed lost, so I came up to her. I think she has amnesia; all she remembers is her name. Not her parents, how she got there, or why she was so tired. Nothing, Mom. You know, except her name. I've never seen anything like this."

"Hmmm, that is strange. Usually those afflicted with amnesia remember some things, usually from their early childhood."

"And on TV, their name is one of the things they do forget."

"But, honey, this is real life. You've been playing too much of that Grave Digger game with Howard."

"Grave Puncher, Mom. Puncher."

"It doesn't matter now, we have a seriously afflicted amnesiac on our hands."

"Maybe we should keep her here. At least, until we find out where she lives and who her parents are." Rachel moaned, and her eyelids were drooping. She was almost unconscious. "I'm going to take her to my room so she can sleep," I announced, heading for the stairs.

"Alright, but try anything on her, and you will face a punishment worse than you could even imagine, mister."

"What do you mean, try anything…? Oh." My face turned red again when I realized what she meant. "Don't worry; I wasn't absent the day they taught us that in health class." I glanced at Rachel, hoping she hadn't heard my mom's comment. Thankfully, she seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. All of a sudden, she gasped and her eyes went wide. I opened the door to my room, and climbed the ladder up to my bed and set her down.

She blinked, scared, although I had no idea why. "Randy?"

"Yeah, Rachel?"

"Am I going to be ok?"

"Yeah. My mom is letting you stay here until we find your parents."

"I don't think that's going to happen."

"Why? Are you remembering something?"

"No, not really. I just have this feeling, and it's a bad one." She looked into my eyes with her pale blue ones, wide-eyed, like a scared cat.

"Do you think they're dead?"

She got the faraway look in her eyes again. "I… don't think so," she answered finally. "I think that I might be the one who left."

"Rachel, are you a runaway?"

"I honestly can't remember. I'm just getting all this from feelings. Feelings that I can't explain. All I can safely say," she paused, peering directly into my eyes. "Is that… I'm a long, long way from the place I used to live. Yet, home…" she paused, lowering her voice as if she thought I wasn't close enough to hear. "Home is close by," she murmured, closing her eyes and drifting off into sleep.

"Good night, Rachel," I murmured under my breath. I took the blanket out from under her and put it on her. She was really pretty. Like, the kind of pretty that would make even a popular guy fall to his knees and beg her to go with him to the school dance. Did I even have a chance with her?

Argh, what was I saying? I had just met this girl like ten minutes ago, and all of a sudden I was falling for her? Smooth, Cunningham. I climbed down from the bed, hoping it would be several hours before Rachel woke up. I had to sort out my feelings for her, or rather, just-as-a-friend feelings for her first.

...

(Rachel's POV)

Everything felt hazy.

Me, the bed, the laptop in front of me, the words across the screen, it all just felt hazy.

I wanted to stop, press the "back" button at the top left of the screen, so badly that I wanted to scream, but I had to know. I just had to know what I was up against.

I wanted to stop looking at the words staring me in the face, but I couldn't. I was so torn. Between my own feelings and the ones the computer screen was making me feel.

For the longest time, I had wanted to believe that I was the only one. The only one capable of something like this, even on accident. Especially on accident.

But now I knew there were others.

For a second, I remember. I remember being so upset that I was willing to make a deal with the devil.

Only they were worse than the devil, and they came. For me. I felt myself being crunched inside; I felt literal pain, not just emotional. I tried not to scream.

I woke up, feeling like I might cry. I could no longer remember the dream, it was locked away, just out of reach, but I remember feeling things no person, dead or alive, good or evil, should ever have to feel. I clutched the blanket on top of me. Randy must have put it there. I smiled, but then I remembered what I had felt in the dream, and I winced.

(Randy's POV)

I woke up to a soft sound. For a second, I wondered why my head was so honkin' close to the ground- didn't I have a high bed? But then I remembered. I remembered Rachel, and dragging out an old inflatable mattress from the attic to sleep on. I looked at the clock- 7:30 am. Luckily, it was Saturday, meaning I didn't have to leave Rachel here while I went to school. She seemed lonely- juice, she barely seemed emotionally stable. Yet, I felt this inexplicable need to protect her. From what, I had yet to find out.

I heard the sound again. It seemed to be coming from Rachel's direction. I climbed up the ladder to check on her. She was awake, and it looked like she might be crying.

"Rachel? Are you ok?" I sat down next to her. "What happened?"

"Err, bad dream." She sat up. Her eyes were red from crying.

"It seems like it was more than just a bad dream. Is your memory coming back? Was it painful? Are you all right?"

She sighed. "For my own sake, I hope it never actually happened. But, oh God, why else would I dream it?" She groaned, taking the pillow out from behind her and slamming it on her face. "If that's any clue to what my life B.M.L. was, I'd be happy to stay oblivious to it for the rest of my life."

I sighed. "You can't just run away from your past, Rachel. And… B.M.L.? What the juice is that?"

"Before Memory Loss. And, yes, you can. It's just a matter of running far enough." She crossed her arms and stared straight ahead of her. "You have to know where to go, who to trust…" She looked down, as if remembering, but that only lasted a split-second. "I just don't know anymore. I get flashes of what must be my old life, but nothing more. I need to put the past behind me, just live for now, you know? Stop worrying about who I might have been and focus on who I could be."

"I couldn't agree more. But you need to find out who you once were. You may have been hurt so badly that it traumatized you, which would explain the memory loss. But the question is, why? Why would anyone ever want to hurt you? You seem so innocent."

She laughed darkly. "That's probably just because of the memory loss. There has to be a good reason why I can't remember one freaking thing about my life."

"You remembered your name," I reminded her.

"No, I didn't," she admitted. "I found this in my pocket." She pulled out a crumpled-up piece of paper from her pocket.

"Your name is Rachel Crawford. Ok, so you didn't remember anything. But why would you put a piece of paper in your pocket reminding you who you were? It's not like people just expect to get amnesia."

"I don't think it's amnesia." She looked right at me, eyes wide. "I think someone did this to me. And I think I let them."

"What do you mean, you let them?"

"I'm not sure. I can't remember why I thought that anymore, it's just a hunch. Forget I said anything." She turned away from me, as if offended.

All of a sudden I understood. "No, Rachel, I didn't mean it like that, I was just wondering why… I didn't mean that you were weak or anything… it's… I just…"

"No, who was I kidding? I probably do have amnesia." She moved past me to the edge of the bed and climbed down the ladder and stood by the window, staring out of it. "I'm probably just in denial. My subconscious probably blocked my memories out because they were too painful or something." It looked as if she was pained to say that last sentence.

I went over to her and put a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, Rachel. It's probably not as bad as you think."

(Rachel's POV)

"I'm probably just in denial." I didn't know why, but saying those words felt like a lie. "My subconscious probably blocked my memories out because they were too painful or something." It hurt to say that last part. Not because I was imagining what could've happened, but because saying it felt like a violation of my true self. Though for the life of me I couldn't figure out why, let alone who my true self even was.

Randy put a hand on my shoulder, probably to comfort me. He must have noticed the look on my face. "It's okay, Rachel. It's probably not as bad as you think." Even though I knew that he was imagining something completely different had happened to me than what I think really happened, I didn't try to correct him. After all, I had no place to correct him when he was probably the one who was right. I had a weird feeling, once again, that I had been told I was wrong about these kinds of things before.

I also didn't want him to move away from me. I didn't know why, but I felt the sudden urge to move closer to him (which I did).

(Randy's POV)

Rachel moved closer to me. And I don't mean like an inch or something, she was pressed up against me now. I was shocked, but I didn't push her away. Because it felt good. I glanced at her. Cautiously and slowly, I moved my hand from her shoulder and put my arm all the way around her. She leaned her head against my shoulder. I pulled her closer. She turned to face me, and we were looking directly into each other's eyes. Her eyes were so blue… I was enchanted by her. She wasn't just pretty, she was beautiful. And her hair… it was like sunshine… Maybe I didn't just think of her as a friend. Oh, who was I kidding, I really didn't merely think of her as a friend, I wanted her. I didn't care that she barely had any idea who she was, or that we just met yesterday. I just wanted her. So badly.

"Randy?" she asked quietly.

"No, just… don't say anything…" I didn't want talking about the moment to ruin it. Closing my eyes, I leaned closer to Rachel with my heart racing and-

"Randy! Rachel! Are you awake? Breakfast is almost ready," my mom called from downstairs. We both pulled away. I was shocked at what had almost happened. I mean, I just met some girl off the street yesterday and I had almost kissed her. I couldn't believe myself. I couldn't even look at Rachel, I was so embarrassed. Who knew what she thought of me now?

"We're awake, Mom. We're coming," I yelled back. I opened the door and left the room, leaving it open so Rachel could come.

(Rachel's POV)

I turned to face Randy, looking into his sapphire blue eyes. All of a sudden, I felt something, and it got hard to breathe.

"Randy?" I asked, wondering if he felt it too.

"No, just… don't say anything…" He murmured, leaning closer, closing his eyes. I felt butterflies in my stomach as I leaned in and closed my eyes. We were so close, I could feel it. When, all of a sudden-

"Randy! Rachel! Are you awake? Breakfast is almost ready." I recognized the voice to be Randy's mom. We both pulled away, jerked back into reality. Where we had just met less than twenty-four hours ago, and he was a local boy that was too hot for me and I was the crazy amnesiac he found by the street, staring at the sky with an insane look in her eyes. I hoped that wasn't how he saw me now. I waited for him to look at me in the hopes that my theories would be proven wrong, but he wouldn't even give me a glance.

"We're awake, Mom. We're coming," he replied, opening the door and leaving me behind. Yup, exactly what I thought. He hates me now. I sighed, and followed him out.

(Randy's POV)

I could feel the tension in the air as Rachel appeared at the top of the stairs. I couldn't help but stare until she caught me looking at her. I quickly looked away, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. I glanced over at my mom, hoping she hadn't noticed. Luckily, she was busy making pancakes (my favorite).

"Hey, Randy," Rachel whispered softly from behind me.

"H-hey, Rachel," I stammered back. Oh, great, now she probably thought I was an even bigger shoob than I had already proved to be.

A minute of awkward silence passed by before Rachel continued. "So, does your mom make pancakes every day?"

"Nope. Only on Saturdays. She's usually too busy getting ready for work on the weekdays and on Sundays she likes to sleep in."

"Every Saturday?"

"Most Saturdays. Sometimes something comes up, or she runs out of milk, but yeah, every Saturday that she can, she does."

"Cool."

That pesky awkward silence returned for a few more seconds until my mom said, "Who wants pancakes?" and gave us each a plate with a stack of pancakes on them. Rachel sat down in the seat to my left and reached for the butter and a knife, while I grabbed the maple syrup. My mom got her own plate of pancakes and sat down in the third seat.

She saw where Rachel was sitting and got a concerned look on her face. "Oh, Rachel, that's where… Never mind, I keep forgetting he's away."

"What do you mean, Mrs. Cunningham?" Rachel asked, confused.

"My dad's away on a business trip. He left in November and he's coming back in two weeks," I explained to her.

"Oh, what does he do?"

"He's a doctor. He left to go treat a particularly bad case of the flu…"

My mom gave me a stern look. "Honey, it's not the flu. It's… actually, I'm forgetting what it is at the moment, but it'll come back to me. It's a very rare but serious disease, and a severe outbreak occurred in a small farm town in Kansas. He and two other doctors from Norrisville were sent to cure the patients, and it's very contagious. I hope he doesn't catch it; he could die if he did. It's similar to the flu, though. But only because it makes your body temperature higher than normal."

"I was never good at biography…" My mom shot me a look. "Kidding! I'm kidding! I know it's called biology, I was just kidding! Hehe…" I went back to eating, embarrassed at having looked stupid in front of Rachel, who I glanced at, which turned into another stare. She caught me, again, and I looked away embarrassedly, again.

This time, my mom noticed. "There seems to be tension between you two…" All of a sudden, my mom shot me a glare. "Randy! I thought I told you not to-"

"Oh, don't worry Mrs. Cunningham," Rachel interjected. "He was a perfect gentleman."

"Yeah, more like a perfect shoob," I muttered between bites.

"What was that, Randy?" my mom asked.

"Nothing." Rachel looked at me sympathetically. What the juice? She was acting like nothing was wrong. It was as if she didn't hate me for almost kissing her. Which I really shouldn't have done, it was a huge mistake.

(Rachel's POV)

"There seems to be tension between you two… Randy! I thought I told you not to-"

"Oh, don't worry Mrs. Cunningham. He was a perfect gentleman."

"Yeah, more like a perfect shoob," Randy muttered. That was when it hit me: he was embarrassed about the almost-kiss from earlier. But why? He didn't have to apologize for his feelings, not to mention it was mostly my fault. I was the one who pressed up against him.

"What was that, Randy?" his mom asked.

"Nothing." I gave him a sympathetic glance as if to say, "I know you're embarrassed and I totally get it," but he just looked away.

I finished my pancakes, and then leaned closer to Randy and whispered, "We need to talk."

(Randy's POV)

I gulped. I knew it would be about the almost-kiss. "N-now?" I stammered. Rachel nodded, and I sighed. It was probably better just to get this over with. "Excuse us, Mom." I had already finished my pancakes, and I noticed that Rachel had too. We headed upstairs and back to my room, where I was sure Rachel was going to say that she hated me for not being able to control myself and that she wanted to leave. I glanced at her, but looked away before she could catch me. I had learned my lesson. I just knew that Rachel was going to leave and go out on her own with no recollection of who she was, and it would be all my fault. Isn't a ninja supposed to protect the innocent? I sat down on the couch, and Rachel closed the door behind her and sat down next to me. This was it. This "relationship" was about to end before it even began.