Starting Over

Chapter 1

Cameron's POV:

It's been six months since I saw Clayton and a lot seems to have happened since then. At least, I think a lot has happened, I just can't seem to remember. My headache seemed to be really bad when I first woke up in my apartment. Each time I tried to think about how I ended up back in my room with different clothes, my head would get a sharp pain. All it did was make the aching headache worse.

I was glad that it was the weekend because that meant I could lay around all day taking aspirin to help dull my headache before I went back to work. The only probably was, when I walked back into the attorney's office, I was informed that I no longer worked there. When I asked them why that was, all they could tell me was that I didn't show up to work. I even argued with them about how I was just there last Friday because it was Saturday when I woke up. They couldn't really answer me and almost seemed as if they didn't really know why for sure either. As if they felt like something was missing too which just made me more confused and angry.

To really add to my confusion was when I went to the University two weeks later, because the fall semester was starting, and saw the date I felt so confused and lost. I don't know why I never noticed the date before then but it was a real shocker to see it. I even asked some of the students that were walking around what year it was and they looked at me strangely as if I was joking or mental for not knowing the year but they still told me. I asked several and they all gave me the same look and answer. Somehow, and I still haven't figured out exactly how I lost an entire year of my life. No matter what I do to try to remember what happened, I can't and that headache just comes back. The only person I could think of that could give me that answer was Clayton but I haven't seen him since that night I kicked him out of my apartment. Even though I can't think how he would know or understand, a part of me gets this feeling that he knows the answers. That he knows a lot more than that what he appeared to know.

While I was at the University, I checked to see if I was still registered and I was, surprisingly. According to them, nothing had changed, which also just added to my confusion. How can my place of work try to act like nothing was wrong yet the University seemed normal? I accepted it and got my class schedule and paid my book fees with the credit card my parents gave me for expenses, before I moved to Chicago, and went back to my apartment. I then called my family and casually talked with them and sneaking in a little bit of the past but I got nowhere with them. Not even my brothers seemed to say much. They all acted like nothing was different or changed or appeared to have lost a year somewhere either. They didn't come right out and say I was losing my mind but I got the feeling they were thinking something was wrong with me. It's as if that entire year of my life just vanished, disappeared. Like it was wiped from my memory and everyone else's memory yet I'm the only one who seems to notice something isn't right with the timeline.

The only thing I can figure out is that maybe I got hit harder than I thought and maybe my memory was a little off. Regardless of what happened, I know that I lost a year somehow because I know what year I was born and I know what year it is now and that means I'm 19 years old. I graduated high school when I was 18, not 19 so where is that lost year? The other thing that tells me something isn't right and I don't understand how this came to be, but my breasts are bigger. Like a whole cup size bigger. I went from a large B cup to a middle C cup. Basically too big for a B but just right for a C. They are much fuller too. I didn't notice until the following morning after kicking Clayton out of my apartment when I got dressed and my bras were a different size.

So, six months later, I have tried to forget about the past that I swear that I lost and just tried to move on with my life. I have just finished the first semester of my teaching degree and am almost through the second semester. I decided to change my major from what I had originally chosen when I first got accepted into this school. For some reason, I feel this strange yet strong connection with children and wanted to work in a field that would allow me to be with them. Elementary school seemed a little more plausible for me right now anyway because I don't think I would be smart enough to teach high school. The headaches have gotten better but I still have them once in a while and I know that they are from that mugging because they hurt more than a normal headache.

I used my laptop that I got for my classes one night and researched the effects of getting hit really hard and I think I had a concussion. It told me that when the headaches go away, the concussion is probably gone as well so I think that's just what it is. It also told me that while I am getting those headaches to do what I could not to get hit hard in the head again because it could kill me. Now I'm paranoid over everything! I'm even scared of accidentally hitting my head on an open cabinet door when I move around in the kitchen. I just hope each day that the headaches go away so I can try to live normally again.

I'm now getting ready for my only night class of the week. I'm not really a fan of the dark and I don't really know why. I never used to be scared of the dark but ever since the mugging, it terrifies me. It's just the only time I could get this class in with the rest of my schedule. The only thing good about it is the fact that I can work at the diner in the morning that day and on the weekends. It was hard to find a new job to help out with my expenses because most places need help at night and with being in school full time, that limited my availability drastically.

I'm going to continue to look for other jobs that might pay me a little more but right now, this is all I was able to get hired in at. I have no experience with working and pretty much no skills. All I am is a dishwasher at this place because I've never been a waitress before either. Apparently, they want experienced waitresses. Well, how the hell are you supposed to get experience if no one will hire you as one?

I grab my bag that has my laptop, pens, pencils, notebook, and a few other supplies that I need for different classes and I head out of my apartment complex. The sun hasn't fully gone down yet but it will be by the time my 2-hour class is over. I was running a little late but that's only because I worked earlier today and by the time I took a shower and changed, I was already a few minutes behind.

I paid my cab fare and hopped out as fast as I could. The air felt chilled on my skin as I walked quickly up the sidewalk and the several steps into the building. As soon as I got in, I noticed that the hallways were empty, minus a few other students who were rushing around trying to get to their classes that they were already late for. I ran up the stairs, holding onto the railing as I went, and rounded the corner of the second floor. A few doors down was my class and the door was already shut, which wasn't a good sign. I slowly opened the door in hopes the professor wouldn't notice that I was late, and carefully walked towards the tiered rows of chairs.

"Miss Harper, late again are we? Do you find this class a joke?" The professor asked me, stopping me in my tracks.

"Ah, no sir," I told him breathlessly from my jog up the stairs and looked over at him.

"Then I suggest that you make it a habit of getting here on time from now on, otherwise, if you don't start taking this class seriously you will be removed from it this semester." He told me.

"You can't do that! This class is already paid for and I need it to graduate." I said back to him which only seemed to anger him more.

"I can, and I will. Class starts at seven in the evening, either get here on time the next time and each time after that or don't bother coming at all." He snapped at me with his voice louder than before.

"Yes, sir," I responded back to him.

"Now that you have wasted my time," He started off saying and then looked out at the rest of the class.

"Why don't your peers thank you for extending the class an extra half-hour along with a two-thousand word essay in child psychology that is now due on Friday."

"But that's in two days and we only have class on Wednesdays!" I snapped back, unable to control my increasing frustration and irritation with this teacher.

"You all will be required to show up Friday afternoon with your completed essay. Also thank Miss Harper for informing me how much she just loves speaking in front of everyone, so, instead of just writing your essays, memorize them, and our class on Friday will consist of everyone's presentation of it. Make sure you give some kind of visual to your presentation as well and this will count for one-quarter of your semester grade." He told everyone and then looked over at me with a smile.

I could hear everyone cursing under their breaths, sighing in frustration, and mumbling harshly to themselves and to those nearby while I stood there wishing I could take needles and stab them in both of his eyes and staple his mouth shut. I grumbled to myself and pulled my bag higher on my shoulder, walked to the set of stairs that were in the center of the room, and walked up to the top level. A few curse words were heard from a few of the students as I walked past them. As I was trying to get to an empty chair, one put their foot out, almost tripping me and I would have if it wasn't for someone's quick movement and grabbing my arm before I fell.

"Thank you," I said and looked over at who had helped me.

My breath hitched in my throat when I saw a man about my age with beautiful gray eyes and light brown hair that was hanging partially in his face yet buzzed really short on the sides. There are so many students at this University that there is no way I would know everyone and he is no exception. Besides, I think I would remember seeing someone as gorgeous as he was. He is just about as handsome as Clayton. I can only hope he's not a creep like Clay turned out to be.

"Not a problem." He told me with a smile.

I felt my cheeks heat up and I couldn't help but smile and look away. I quickly walked the rest of the way down the aisle and sat in the last chair in the corner. Most don't sit at the top because this means you're farther away from the whiteboard. This teacher likes to write a lot and expects you to also write the notes down on paper or on your laptop. I prefer to type so I pulled my laptop out and quickly started at the start of his notes, hopefully before he gets done and walks back over and erases them to write more.

"You're in my child development class aren't you?" I heard a man say beside me as he sat down.

I looked over and it was the same man who kept my face from meeting the floor or the back of a chair just a little bit ago.

"I, ah, I don't know. I don't pay attention." I said and looked back over at the board to continue typing everything up.

"I think you are. What degree are you going for?" He asked me and I looked over, noticing that he was not taking down any notes at all.

"Don't you need to write this down?" I asked, pointing at the board in front of us.

"Nah, I do pretty well with remembering things." He said with a shrug.

"I'm Theodore but you can just call me Theo." He said and I just continued to look at the board to get myself caught up.

"I'm going to be a child psychologist, what about you?" He asked me again and I looked over at him in irritation.

"Well, Theo, some of us need to take down these notes to study for the exams and some of us need to pass to graduate," I told him in irritation.

"I can help you study." He offered and I just looked over at him.

"How about we get together after class tomorrow and work on the essays." He continued and I just sighed and leaned back in my chair.

"How good are you in math?" I asked him and he smiled.

"My favorite subject." He answered with a hopeful smile.

I wasn't really sure about any of this but I'm not exactly all that good with algebra even if it is math for elementary students. I swear they are teaching us math for kids who are geniuses because for some reason I don't recall doing half of the s**t they are teaching us when I was in elementary.

"Good because I'm about ready to fail that class and I don't know if I'm going to get my credits for it," I told him and he just nodded.

"I can get you where you need to be to get all your credits." He said assuringly and leaned back in his chair and looked out front at the whiteboard.

I looked over and the first thing I saw was the professor erasing half of what he had written down.

"s**t!" I cussed and leaned my head on my hand.

"I hadn't gotten that far yet," I whined and shut my laptop in frustration.

"Don't worry, I got you covered." He said and pointed at his head when I looked over at him.

I just sighed and looked back at the whiteboard as the professor continued with his lecture for the next one and half hours of torture.