I was a little surprised a couple of days later when I was discharged from the hospital, to find that the Morrisons had already packed up my things from the Adams's house. Nate and my other friend, apparently I had forgotten him too, Doug, had come to visit me everyday. The kept filling me in on the random happenings of school, even though I didn't remember any of the people they mentioned. Even still, I listened intently, laughing at the things that were supposed to be funny and nodding along even though I really didn't understand much.

They both filled me in on graduation, which I hadn't known I would have attended had I not been in the hospital still. It struck me as odd, since I was only sixteen, but I didn't have the heart to question them any further after the way both seemed to grow somewhat sadder when I looked confused. By the end of the week, it had been decided by Mr. Morrison that Doug should come up for the summer as well, seeing as how the three of us got along so well. I didn't mind. Doug seemed to lighten the atmosphere that always felt heavy and strained when Nate and I were alone. I didn't think it was normal for two friends to have such a strained atmosphere between them, but at the same time I was still getting the impression that perhaps there had at some point been more. But maybe that was just me.

The trunk of the car was stuffed completely with what little I actually owned and the bags that Doug and Nate had packed for a summer of, well I didn't know what, at my new home. Nate had opted to sit in the middle, as Doug complained that he would get carsick if he could see out of the windshield and I had already curled up against the other door. I had already been warned that it was a bit of a drive up to the university and my plan was to sleep through it. I probably would have, if I hadn't heard the rustle of pages turning from the other side of the back seat.

"What are you reading, Doug?" I asked, picking my head up off the window to try and peer over Nate. His eyes quickly swept over to me, closing the notebook quickly. I frowned a bit, confused by the action.

"Just something a friend of mine wrote," he replied, his eyes shifting nervously between me and Nate. I turned my eyes up to Nate, thinking that it was something of his.

"I didn't know you were a writer," I said, looking at him in mild awe. Nate just shook his head, offering me the same sad smile that I had grown used to over the last week.

"Not I." I cocked my head, now confused. "See, it's a friend of ours who had a really crappy past, but he wrote everything down. And I mean everything. Would you like to read some of it?" I nodded a bit and Doug reached into a familiar looking box at his feet. It was familiar, but at the same time it wasn't. I shrugged it off as he handed me a notebook and curled back up into my corner of the seat.

iFebruary 18, 1999. It was my birthday today. I'm 6 now. I thought Daddy forgot, but he came to my room after he came home. He said he had a present for me. He told me to lay on my tummy and he pulled my pjs down. I didn't understand what he was doing, but it hurt. It hurt so much that I cried. I wanted him to stop. He shoved something in my mouth and told me to be quiet. I bit what was in my mouth and just cried. When he left, I felt a yucky mess on my back and my legs. I want to take a bath. I'm scared he might get mad though. He's scary when he's mad./i

I brushed the tears off my cheeks as I finished the first page, the tale striking a chord in me. It felt all to real to me, though I couldn't understand why. I looked up as I felt a hand gently come to rest on my shoulder, finding Nate watching my reactions with a sad intenseness. It was odd, to say the least. It was almost like he and Doug had expected something of me from reading the notebook. I flashed him a small smile as I wiped away the last tears, closing the journal and letting it rest in my lap.

"Is it real?" I asked softly, my eyes shifting slowly from Nate to Doug and back again. Doug seemed like he was at a loss for what to say, and Nate, well, it seemed like it pained him that I had asked the question at all.

"From what I understand, it is," Nate finally said, his voice quiet. "He's always been reluctant to discuss any of it, but when he was finally freed of his father, he let us read. It was the only way he knew of to open up." There was something in the way he talked about his friend that made my heart ache, but I brushed it off as simple empathy. It was far too strange that I felt anything for this unknown person and I wasn't going to let someone else's life make depressed. I had my own issues to deal with after all.

The rest of the ride was filled with casual conversation that I barely listened to and participated in even less. It was mostly Doug and Mr. Morrison talking about Cedar Crest and their football team that Doug would be joining come time for summer practice. Doug seemed excessively happy that because of his final grades, he was granted a full scholarship. He even made mention that if it hadn't been for my help with a weekend long cram session his grades may not have come out as good. It was weird to hear that I had helped both Nate and Doug with their studies, seeing as I was younger than both of them, but I just guessed that was also why I would be attending college at the age of sixteen.

When we finally got to the university, I stared out the window of the car in wide-eyed wonder. The campus was simply breath taking with its wide open space and hundreds of large old cypress and cedar trees. The architecture of the buildings was reminiscent of old world Italy and I couldn't stop myself from gawking at the intricately carved exteriors. They were large and spread out, giving the impression that having classes scheduled too closely together would mean a lot of running. The Dean's house was as intricate as every other building, and I stood outside the car, staring up at stone gargoyles that sat at the top corners.

"Welcome home, Camryn," Mrs. Morrison said, snapping me out of my awed state. I smiled warmly at here and made my way around to the trunk to help carry in my bags. I followed her into the house and up the stairs as she showed Doug and Nate the rooms they could use, before showing me mine at the end of the hall. I was shocked to see the size of the room and turned to look at her stunned. "This house was built with two master bedrooms," she explained with a bright smile at my uninhibited delight. "Normally, we use this as a guest room, but we believed that you would appreciate the privacy of having your own bathroom and the extra space."

"Thank you," I breathed as I turned back to the room and let my bags fall to the floor with a thump. For some reason, something I really couldn't put my finger on, I knew she was right. Privacy was something that some part of my forgotten life wanted, needed. After I heard her walk away, I moved over to the door, sighing with relief as I found that I could lock the door. I didn't understand it, but like the privacy, it was something that I couldn't put my finger on, but my mind found quite relieving.

I spent the next half hour putting away what few belongings that I had and then moved about the room, my hand moving over the books lining the bookshelf. I recognized that most of the books were history books and smiled softly to myself, wondering if they had been put there for me. From what I could actually remember, I knew that I favoured history books over pretty much any other type of reading material. I could guess that if I had no reason to read other books, I would read random history books on different people or places.

"Hey," Nate said, poking his head into the room. "Nice room you have here." I turned to face him, smiling as I nodded, my eyes doing another quick scan of the large room. "Mrs. Morrison said that dinner would be ready in about ten minutes and that we should make our way downstairs."

"Okay," I replied and crossed the room to where he still waited in the hall.

"You've been rather quiet all day," he commented as we made our way to the stairs. "Are you alright?" I glanced up at him, realizing that he paid an aweful lot of attention to my moods and behaviours. It was mildly annoying, but I was sure that there had once been a reason for the overbearing behaviour.

"I think I am just still trying to gain my bearings," I said softly with a small smile. "To not remember anything except what I've read in books and to suddenly be hit with the fact that I was orphaned and adopted and to suddenly move all the way up here. I think I'm still just a bit shell shocked." I relaxed a little as he gave me one of his first genuine smiles and nodded at my explanation.

"Everything will eventually settle down and you'll be better than ever," he replied quietly. I looked up and caught his dark blue eyes, and then it happened. For a moment, I wasn't in the hall anymore, I was somewhere else, but I couldn't see anything other than a pair of wide dark blue eyes staring at me. I could see the fear in those eyes, but again, I had no idea why they were afraid and then everything went black and I blinked rapidly. "Camryn? You okay? You spaced out for a second there." I blinked at his worried face for a moment, feeling his hand tighten just slightly on my shoulder.

"Fine, fine," I said, forcing a smile back on my face. I couldn't shake off the way those fear filled eyes had looked so much like Nate's, but I just couldn't imagine what would ever make him look so scared. His hand lingered on my shoulder for a moment more, before he nodded and we started down the stairs again. The dining room table was already half set, with a large salad bowl and various dressings. "Is there anything I can help with?" I called towards what I guessed was the entrance to the kitchen.

"It's fine, dear," Mrs. Morrison called back. "I have Doug's hands in here already. Does everyong like tea?" I frowned and glanced at Nate, not actually having the answer for myself.

"Yes, Mrs. Morrison," Nate answered, a small smile on his face as he realized he had yet another answer about me that I didn't know myself.

"Great! We'll be right out then," she replied and I cautiously moved behind a chair on one side of the table. She did come out, carrying a basket of what my nose said was garlic bread with Doug right behind her carrying a large pot. After she set the basket down and directed Doug where to place the pot, she disappeared back into the kitchen to grab two pitchers of a clear brown liquid that I assumed was the tea she mentioned. "Sit, sit! Jack should be out soon. He just needed to return some calls he got while we were gone."

We nodded and sat, slowly plating spaghetti from the pot and salad from the bowl. I stared at the dressings though, unsure of what I did like or what I would like. Nate eventually answered the question for me, sliding a container of french dressing closer to me. I don't think anyone else noticed, or else they simply didn't comment, figuring that I was still learning about my own likes and dislikes. Even still, it really made me wonder just how much Nate knew about me. I had just finished drizzling the dressing over my salad when Mr. Morrison entered the room, running his hands through his greying hair in a stressed and agitated manner.

"Is something the matter, honey?" Mrs. Morrison asked, watching her husband with concerned eyes. I could guess that the look on his face and the way he brushed his hair back were signs that something was bothering him.

"I just got off the phone with Paul Jones," he said and I tilted my head slightly. He caught the motion and gave me a tired smile. "He's the head of our languages department," he explained, his eyes watching me.

"I thought he was going to be out of town most of this month," Mrs. Morrison commented. He just sighed.

"Well, there's a problem. Seems that two of the language professors eloped last weekend and have left us with two summer courses that have no teachers. Paul said he'd come back, but he can only teach one of them." I set my fork down, seeing the stress that was clearly evident on his face.

"What courses?" I asked softly and his eyes immediately snapped back to me. All movement stopped and all eyes turned to me and I found myself blushing under the sudden attention.

"French and Spanish 101," he replied slowly. I could feel something turn in my head and I had this desire to be as helpful as I could. I wasn't exactly sure why, but it almost felt like I owed this man a lot.

"Maybe I could help?" I said quietly, my own words surprising me as much as they did everyone else at the table. "I mean, I don't know how well I could teach it, but I know the languages as well as I do English."

"You teach rather well, actually," Nate said, his hand still frozen over his plate. "I managed a B+ on a midterm for French III when I'd been taking Spanish up to two weeks prior with your help." I looked over at him, shocked that he had managed that, but even more surprised that it had been my help that got him that far. Mr. Morrison made a quiet noise and I turned my attention back to him to find him mulling over the idea I had presented him with.

"That might just work," he mumbled more to himself than to anyone else. "Say, Camryn? Would you be opposed to taking over both classes? Because it's summer courses, they last three hours, but we have them on opposite days." It wouldn't be a problem for me to switch between the languages, but I had the impression there was another reason that he wanted me to take over both.

"If I did, would it prevent Mr. Jones from having to change his plans?"

"Yes, but you shouldn't worry about that," he replied. I could tell that he really didn't want me to feel obligated to do it for Mr. Jones's sake, but at the same time, I knew that he didn't want his colleague to be burdened either.

"I guess I could," I said softly. "I just don't know how well I could teach. Teaching and tutoring are different concepts," I said as Nate opened his mouth to once again say that I made a good teacher. The smile of relief that spread over Mr. Morrison's face was enough to make me feel better about my decision and I picked my fork up again.

"Let me go give Paul a quick call and let him know the situation is resolved," he said, making a hasty retreat back to his office. I ate dinner slowly, listening to the chatter around the table. Mr. Morrison was thrilled with my decision and was more than willing to help me out by getting me the teacher's books to give me help in preparing lesson plans. He also had plans to sit on the lessons as often as he could to make sure that no one tried to take advantage of the fact that I was simply sixteen and not technically a teacher. I just nodded along with all of it, not really thinking about anything other than the fact that I was doing my new father a huge favour. Perhaps, it would balance out with all that he and his wife were doing for me and all the thought that they had put in to making me feel comfortable here. I really did hope that everything would work out alright. I liked it when Mr. Morrison was relaxed. I felt safe and not as tense when he was.