I Was A Bitch

“What’s going on?” my mom hollered, fear lacing her voice as she rushed into the room.

Claire, startled, let the mirror slip from her grasp onto the bed. I quickly picked it up, my eyes meeting the reflection. This couldn’t be real.

The girl staring back at me… She wasn’t me. She couldn’t be. I had breasts! And my teeth—they were white and straight, like a model’s! My hair was a rich chestnut brown, cascading in soft waves around my—dare I say—flawless face.

But that wasn’t the most shocking part. No, the real kicker was: I looked…significantly older! Like, eighteen-year-old older! This was impossible. Had I died and been reborn?

“Lacey? Are you okay?” my mom asked, concern etched on her face as she leaned over me.

“I’m fine,” I managed to say, exhaling the tension. “I was just um…caught off guard.”

Her brows furrowed with worry as Claire and Mel exchanged their third uneasy glance of the hour.

God, I had no idea how to behave!

“You look stunning, sweetheart,” my mom said, her smile returning. “You girls did a fantastic job!” She praised my two best friends.

So, she knew them.

Of course she does, dummy, they’re your best friends!

“Derek is here.”

The mere mention of Derek, my supposed boyfriend, made my stomach churn. He was there. Waiting for me to play the part of his girlfriend—to know him.

To possibly be in love with him. Oh God!

“Cool!” I blurted out, forcing a bright smile, unable to resist another glance in the mirror.

Damn, I did look fabulous.

“Should I let him in?” my mom asked, her gaze shifting from me to my attire. The hospital blue gown. Shit.

“Don’t worry, Lace! We brought clothes too,” Mel quickly chimed in, grinning.

She reached for her bag and handed me what could only be described as half a shirt. There was no way this was going to cover my entire chest. I took it and managed a smile, slipping it on after fastening a bra.

Because no, they don’t let you keep your bra on when you’re in a coma for two months. Thank God!

“How do you feel in your favorite crop top?” Claire asked, her eyes sparkling.

“We brought the matching shorts, but since you can’t get out of bed, they probably wouldn’t be of any use.”

So, a “crop top” was this half-shirt thing? I glanced down at it and had to suppress a “wow.”

When did my stomach become flat and perfectly tanned, and my breasts so full that I could actually have the dream body I always wanted? This had to be a dream. This couldn’t be real.

“I feel…great.”

For the first time today, I was being honest.

“Thank you, guys,” I said, smiling at my two best friends.

“Of course, babe! So, should we go and let Derek in? He is dying to see you! Literally!”

“Um yeah, sure!” I tried to sound excited, but inside, I was a bundle of nerves.

My priorities were all over the place.

I didn’t know how old I was or where the two years between sixteen and eighteen had disappeared to, and yet, here I was, worrying about what my boyfriend would think of me!

My two best friends each gave me an air-kiss on the cheek then left with my mom, leaving me alone for a few moments to gather my thoughts. The biggest problem, though, was that I had no idea who I was.

Who the eighteen-year-old me was.

“Hey, beautiful.”

The deep, sultry voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and I swallowed hard, lifting my eyes to meet his. Holy shit. He was gorgeous. And he was my boyfriend!

No way. No. No, no way. His hair was a rich brown, his eyes a striking blue, and they were focused solely on me. Me! Lacey Amanda Jones.

I wanted to jump up and do a victory dance, but, yeah, that would have been weird. Act normal, Lacey, for God’s sake!

“Hey,” I replied, smiling.

Now that I knew how good I looked when I smiled, I was definitely going to do it more often. Derek moved his tall, muscular frame over to my bed and sat next to me.

“You scared us,” he murmured, tucking a loose strand of my hair behind my ear. “I’m so glad you’re alive, babe.”

A warm feeling spread through my stomach, and I tried to keep my composure.

Damn, this model look-alike was my boyfriend!

“Yeah, I’m glad too,” I said.

Ugh, I wanted to kick myself. What kind of response was that? Pull yourself together, Lacey. He chuckled lightly.

“So, um...do you remember anything from the night of the accident?” he asked, his lip caught between his teeth.

Was he...nervous?

“No, everything’s a blur.”

“Oh!”

Why did he seem relieved?

He quickly masked it with a smile and cupped my cheek.

Wow.

His eyes were already closed, and he was leaning in, his face inching closer, his lips poised to meet mine, but my mind was in overdrive, and panic set in.

I pushed him away and started to cough. Yup. I faked a cough. Why? Oh, I didn’t know. I was an idiot! Okay?

“Lacey? Are you okay?” Derek asked, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Can you…” Fake cough.

“Get me”—another fake cough—“some water.”

“Of course, babe! I’ll be right back!” he said, quickly standing up and leaving the room to fetch a drink.

Great. Now what?

It’s not that I didn’t want to kiss this god-like model of a man that I had every right to kiss since he was my boyfriend and I probably had done so a thousand times, but yeah... I didn’t want to kiss him. Not right now.

I was clueless about him, and about myself too. So, kissing him wasn’t exactly an option, was it?

Derek returned swiftly with a tall glass of water, which I gulped down to soothe my supposed cough.

His gaze never left me, and my mind was a whirlwind of questions. What next? What should I do? He was going to try to kiss me again! Should I kiss him back? Should I tell him I think I’m sixteen?

I placed the empty glass on the bedside table, biting my lip nervously.

“Babe, you know how much I love it when you bite your lip. Are you trying to tease me?” Derek teased, his smile flirtatious.

Oh no.

This wasn’t the plan at all.

“So, where were we?” Derek asked, pretending to be clueless, his hand already caressing my cheek.

Oh shit.

I closed my eyes, bracing myself for a kiss from a boy I knew nothing about. But then, the sound of the door opening made me open my eyes wide, and Derek cleared his throat, running a hand through his gorgeous hair nervously.

Well… this was awkward.

“Good morning, Lacey. And to you too, Derek,” my doctor greeted with a smug smile.

How did he know my boyfriend’s name when I had just learned it?

“Derek visited you a lot when you were in your coma,” the doctor explained, noticing my puzzled look at their familiarity.

“Oh! Right,” I laughed awkwardly, fighting the urge to slap myself.

“I’m going to go but I’ll be back tomorrow, Lace, okay?” Derek asked, his smile so perfect it looked like he’d just stepped out of a photo shoot. Or a toothpaste commercial.

“Okay. See you tomorrow then,” I replied, forcing the most genuine smile I could muster.

He looked a little taken aback but quickly recovered, bidding my doctor goodbye before leaving the hospital room.

I glanced at Doctor Shaeffer, silently grateful for his interruption of our almost-kiss. He pulled out his notepad and flipped through a few pages, deep in thought.

“How are you feeling, Lacey?” he asked after a few moments of contemplation.

“I’m…”

I was about to say good out of habit, but then it hit me. I wasn’t good at all.

A million questions were overwhelming me, and I felt like I was trapped inside a body I didn’t recognize, in a life filled with people who were supposedly close to me but felt like strangers.

And everything I thought I knew was no longer true.

“Confused.”

The doctor smiled.

“Yeah, I assumed so. Yesterday you told me you were sixteen, do you still feel like you are sixteen today?” he asked.

“Yes. But my parents told me I was eighteen and then I saw my reflection and…”

“Oh, I was hoping you hadn’t. It must have been a shock, right?”

“Shock is an understatement. I don’t…feel like myself anymore. I mean…how did I get like this? I’m…beautiful. And I have the perfect body.”

He laughed.

“I don’t mean to sound cocky or anything, it’s just…I didn’t use to look this good before, which is like yesterday to me and…” I paused.

“Ugh, this is so confusing!”

“I’m sorry, I should have explained more sooner. I just wanted to run some more tests before getting ahead of myself. It seems you have short-term memory loss.

“Two years of memory loss to be precise.”

“How? My parents told me I’ve only been in a coma for two months.”

“Yes, but in these two months, it seems you lost two years. Did something, in particular, happen during your sixteenth birthday? Or in the year?”

I tried to remember something, anything, but came up empty.

“I don’t know.”

“Usually, when patients lose memory, especially of a short period of time like you did, there’s a trigger event. Something…that changed.”

What could have possibly changed for me?

Except for transforming into a model when I used to be the most average, not-worth-a-second-glance girl?

“Will I regain my memories?”

“Most patients do, but there is no way of knowing. Maybe you will, maybe you won’t. Again, if you do, it will most probably be caused by the same trigger event.

“Some of the patients who were in the same situation said they had either gained one memory at a time, or that it had all come back to them when they had been on a particular scene of that trigger event.

“Or seeing somebody who reminded them of this trigger event. But it’s not the case for everyone.”

“So I might have two years missing for the rest of my life?” I asked, a little scared.

So much seemed to have changed for me in those two years. How could I possibly carry on now that I didn’t even know my best friends or my boyfriend? Or myself, for that matter. Who was I now? Still a nobody? A geek? A nerd?

A joke? Had I discovered a singing talent after all those practices in the shower? Did I still play guitar? Did I still draw?

“The people who are close to you, starting with your family, will help you with that. They can fill you in on most of the things you missed day by day, but, yes, it will probably be a little hard to manage.”

I bit my lip, on the verge of tears. Why was this happening to me?

Not knowing who I was was terrifying and I would have to tell everyone that I felt like I was sixteen.

“You’re a tough girl, Lacey, I’m sure it will be all right. Do you know if you used to keep a journal when you were sixteen? Maybe you carried it on…”

“I don’t remember a journal,” I said.

I wasn’t the type to write about my life or who I had a crush on since nothing exciting was happening and I had a crush on a different guy every week, knowing very well none of them were noticing me.

“All right, well I’m sure your friends and family will be able to catch you up on things. Even the last episode of Pretty Little Liars.”

I couldn’t help but smile. This show was just too good. I was only on season two, but I was hooked. I wondered if they’d figured out who A was yet.

“They still haven’t figured out who A is,” Doctor Shaeffer chimed in, grinning. “My daughter’s a fan of the show too.”

My eyes drifted to my bedside table where a sleek, modern phone sat. It was a far cry from the one I used to have.

“That’s your phone,” the doctor explained, catching my curious glance.

“You might want to start there. You could have pictures or texts that might help jog your memory.”

“Okay. Thanks.” I hesitated before voicing my next concern. “Am I going to be okay? Apart from the memory loss, I mean. When can I go home?”

“You’re going to be just fine. You might need a bit of therapy, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. As for going home, we haven’t set a date yet, but we’ll get you out of here as soon as we can.

“I promise to keep you updated.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

“I’ll leave you to it. I have another patient to see. If you need anything, just hit the red button and a nurse will be right with you.”

He was about to leave when I called him back. He turned to face me.

“Yes?”

“Could you, um… keep Derek away for a bit? I mean, I get that he’s my boyfriend, and I’m really glad he is.” I let out a nervous chuckle.

“But, um… it feels weird to kiss him when I don’t even remember him. I just need some time to—”

“Of course.” He cut me off.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Have a good day, Lacey. Do you want me to let your parents know you’d like some alone time?”

“Yes, please.”

He gave me a warm smile before leaving the room.

My mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, and I was exhausted, but curiosity got the better of me. I picked up my phone and unlocked it. Thank goodness I didn’t have a password!

The background was a picture of me with Claire and Mel (I still wasn’t sure if her full name was Melanie or something else), laughing on a beach in our bikinis. I had to admit, my body looked amazing.

The phone was pretty easy to navigate, not too different from my old one.

I opened the photo app first and was taken aback by the sheer number of pictures. Over a thousand! This was going to take a while. I scrolled down to the very first picture, taken last year. My phone must have been pretty new then.

Last year; that meant I was seventeen. I still had a year of blank space to fill.

The first picture was of me and Claire, with her blowing out a candle on a cupcake.

I zoomed in on my face and noticed I looked the same as I do now, so the change must have happened before. The following pictures were either of my best friends or selfies.

I had a lot of selfies, and dozens of them looked almost identical, except for a slight turn of my head. Was I really that self-obsessed?

Maybe it was understandable, going from unnoticed to stunning, but still.

I skipped past the countless selfies in gorgeous outfits and focused on the other ones.

The first picture with Derek was from four months ago. We’d been together that long! I must have been in love with him by now. I remembered falling for guys pretty easily.

Or maybe that changed when I became pretty.

In the first picture of us, I was kissing his cheek, my arms wrapped around his neck, and he was smiling. I didn’t know who took the photo, but we looked ridiculously cute.

I moved on to the others.

Some were of us kissing, others of him laughing, playing football, me riding piggyback on him... We looked like the perfect couple, the kind everyone envies but also secretly hates.

If I didn’t know that was me in the pictures, I would have hated that girl too.

There were a lot of pictures of me at big, crowded parties. I frowned at them. When did I become the party girl?

I wasn’t even invited to parties before. So how did I become the center of attention?

There were other pictures that puzzled me, especially those of girls in what looked like a dance competition. I used to be terrified of dancing in front of people, but it seemed I’d overcome that fear.

I scrolled down further and found only two photos with my older brother James. He looked pretty much the same, except for the scruffy beard he was trying to grow. He was twenty now. Did he have a girlfriend?

Was he still bored at the same college? Why hadn’t he come to visit me in the hospital?

My eyes were heavy, and I couldn’t fight off sleep any longer. I’d been asleep for two months; why couldn’t I stay awake?

I knew I’d fall asleep with my phone in my hand and risk dropping it, so I placed it on the bedside table. With that, I closed my eyes, putting an end to the barrage of questions swirling in my mind.