The Forgetting by Nicole Maggi Page A

Jane Doe’s memory. I pressed myself into the wedge between the gate and the concrete base of the fence. But when the car reached me, it flicked its high beams on and I was blinded by white-hot light.
    I threw my hand up to shield my eyes and blinked, trying to see. The driver’s window rolled down. I gripped one of the bars behind me, my heart thudding in my chest. I had nothing to protect myself; the sharpest thing I had in my bag was a lip pencil.
    Over the soft hum of the car’s engine, a disembodied voice floated into the night. “Hey, baby, it’s my birthday.”
    â€œWhat?” Confused, I let go of the gate and took a step toward the car. Out of the bright light, I could see the speaker clearly as he leaned out his open window. Gray hair framed an over-tanned face, his skin the orangey shade that you got from a cheap bottle. The absurd thought that if he drove a car that nice, he should be able to afford a better fake tan flashed through my head. “What did you say?”
    The man squinted at me and pulled back a little. “I thought you were someone else. Where’s—”
    â€œYo, birthday boy, wanna surprise?”
    I stumbled back, the new voice brash against the dark, still night. High heels clicked on the pavement toward the car and a girl, no older than me, emerged from the shadows across the street. Her tight minidress impeded her strides as she teetered over to us.
    Throwing me a malevolent look, she tossed her long, black hair back and bent to lean on the car window. “Hey, sugar.”
    The man glanced from the girl to me. “Where’s the other one? The blond? I always meet her here.”
    The girl spoke in a purr. “She’s old news. I’m here for you now.”
    His eyes flicked back to me and then fixed themselves on the girl’s cleavage. “How much for both of you?”
    She straightened, her hip thrust out as she turned to me. “Two-fifty an hour. Each .”
    My voice finally found itself. “What? I’m not—I don’t— no way .” I backed away from the car, my hands in front of me like a shield.
    The girl arched her back. “Guess you get me all to yourself,” she told the man in the car.
    â€œI want both. It’s my birthday.”
    â€œI thought it was always your birthday,” the girl said, giving him a slow wink.
    â€œWell, today it actually is, and I want both of you.”
    The girl looked at me, her eyes narrowed. “Come on .”
    â€œNo!” It came out as a shriek and echoed over the empty street. Nearby, a dog barked.
    â€œHey, I don’t need any drama.” The guy glanced up and down the deserted street. “I’ll go somewhere else then.” The car revved to life. Just as he peeled away from the curb, I remembered what he’d said. Where’s the other one?
    â€œWait!” I called. “What did you mean—” But it was too late. His tires squealed as he took the corner without slowing down and disappeared.
    The girl rounded on me, her dark eyes flashing. “What the fuck was that?”
    â€œI—”
    â€œThat guy serves himself up on a silver platter and you say no ?”
    â€œI’m not—”
    â€œJules is gonna tear you a new asshole when he hears about this.”
    â€œI don’t even know who Jules—”
    â€œAnd Jules told me this was my meeting place now.” She stepped right up to me, her nose inches from mine. “It woulda been nice if he’d given me a heads-up about the company.”
    I took a step back. “Look,” I said, “I’m really sorry. But there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m not—not a—” I stopped. The girl’s face pinched up and she put her hands on her hips, daring me to say the word. I swallowed hard. “What did he mean,” I said, jerking my head in the direction the car had sped off, “about the other girl