I bolted to the door, past Teddy, who raised his eyebrows but did nothing to stop me. I pushed the door open and was outside. I let out a scream, the cold February air hitting my lungs. At that moment I realized I was cold. What was I doing in a Vista Communications t-shirt? Was it really February? How am I going to get home?

Time is just a construct. I remembered and flinched. Maybe time was a construct, but freezing weather was not. And I was freezing. Clattering my teeth, I ran toward the Greyhound station, where I knew I could at least warm up.

And then I thought of Sergei. I took out my phone and dialed his number. He picked up right away.

“Hey.” He said, “How’s it going? Did you figure out the plan for next Friday yet?”

“Umm,” my voice cracked. I was so relieved at least my brother was there. Someone I could rely on. “Sergei, listen, can you come pick me up?”

“Sure. Where are you?”

“I’m at the Greyhound station. Downtown.”

“Alright. I guess you’ll tell me what you were doing there later.” He said and hung up.

I sat on a bench and waited. Right away, I thought of April, how I went to see her, our time in Philly. She’s probably dating one of those frat boys. Named Jason or whatever. I thought ruefully. A homeless guy shuffled past me, dragging a huge trash bag behind him. The bag was stuffed to the brim with sordid-looking rags. I’m gonna end up like this dude if I don’t take care of myself. I thought. I couldn’t afford to lose it. I had to avenge Mama. But in the state I was in, cold, alone, sitting at a Greyhound station, no job, no girlfriend. Nothing.

I sat there, waiting, doing my best to ignore the crowd. I saw a crowd of passengers assembling at the gate. The bus said ‘Philadelphia.’ It could be me, traveling there to see April. I wonder what she’s up to. I thought. And at that very moment, a text popped on the screen. It was from April.

“Hey! Did you rent the suit yet?”

Hands shaking, I stared at my phone. Then closed my eyes and opened them again. It was still there. She must have been texting someone else. I waited. Then scrolled up to see the text history, expecting a break in communication. The last time she wrote to me was the evening prior. “I love you, too.” Her message read. And right above was mine, which read “I love you.”

April and I are still together?

Another text.

“I am going to wear yellow.”

Black letters on a green background. Green on black. I remembered the Count and nearly jumped.

CM! He would help me with my plan. He has the answers!

One more text from April.

“It would be cool if you had a matching tie and pocket square.”

What? I dialed April’s number.

“Hey.” I said.

“I wasn’t sure if you were done with your shift,” April said, all business. “Listen, I was thinking a gray suit would look nice. I know a tux is probably a good idea, but it’s a small wedding, so you could get away with a suit.”

“My brother’s?”

“Of course! What other one? So if you didn’t rent a suit, a gray one, okay? It’ll look really good with yellow.”

“April, listen. Did we have a fight?”

“What? You mean because of the suit? You have to wear one, I told you, you can’t go to a wedding in a hoodie.”

“No, I mean.” I cleared my throat. “I thought we had a fight.” There was a muffled noise in the background.

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“You mean about that?” I could picture April scrunching up her nose and raising her eyebrows. I missed her.

Why did I run away from her over Christmas? Why did I do that?

“You know what I think about those places.” She added. I felt tears well up in my eyes. Hearing April’s voice, knowing that she still cared about me, was incredible.

“What places? Wait, April, something weird’s going on.”

“Weird how? I don’t care if that’s you wanna do. If you wanna go along with some guy you barely know and his idea. Ben seems like a total creep.”

“I told you about Ben?”

“Yes! Of course you did!”

“What else did I say?” I grasped at this bit of information. This could be the answer.

“Rodion. Come on. You are not gonna make me say it.”

“You mean strip clubs?”

“Yes, I mean strip clubs. Whatever. I can’t believe you’re making me talk about it again. I just don’t wanna know. I really doubt Sergei is gonna love that idea. And those poor girls, totally exploited.”

“I think they can make a pretty good living.” I said, remembering my conversation with Dawn.

“Rodion, are you for real right now? Just rent a suit and please call me back once you do. I’m coming on Friday night and I won’t even have time to see you before the wedding.”

“You’re coming to Pittsburgh?”

“Yes, how else would I go to your brother’s wedding with you?”

“Okay, cool.” I said, trying to sound casual. This was good news and my heart leaped. April and I were still together. She cared about me. We would go to my brother’s wedding together.

“Rodion, you aren’t high, are you?”

“What? No!” I yelled in indignation. A few people turned their heads to stare at me and I plastered a smile on my face. I was about to say something else, but a text popped on the screen. It was from Sergei.

“I am here. Come outside.”

“Listen, April, I gotta go. I’ll call you back.” I hung up and headed to the exit, stuffing the phone in my pocket.

Sergei’s Subaru was parked out front, hazard lights on. I hopped into the passenger seat.

“What happened to you?” Sergei asked. “Why are you wearing only Vista t-shirt? It’s February.”

“I don’t remember.” I said.

“What do you mean, you don’t remember?”

“I don’t remember. Like I don’t remember actually getting a job at Vista.”

“You’re joking, right? Zhanna’s cousin or nephew, or whatever, helped you.”

“I don’t remember. I remember talking about it, but then I don’t remember anything else after.”

“You’re joking, right?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Like I don’t even remember the Steelers winning the Super Bowl.”

In response, Sergei guffawed,

“You gotta remember that, man. If you care about your life. We live in Pittsburgh.”

“That’s what I mean. I didn’t even know they won this year! I had no clue. It was only after Ben mentioned it I knew it had happened.”

“Oh. That guy. Every since you got that Vista job, you can’t shut up about Ben.” Sergei shook his head. “Maybe you got amnesia?” We stopped at the light and Sergei turned to face me. He scanned my face, then sighed. “I guess I shouldn’t have moved out.”

“And I don’t remember that, either.”

“What?”

“I know, it’s crazy. What do I do?”

“I dunno. I thought you were joking.”

“I’m not.” I swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe you should see a shrink?”

“What?” I jumped in my seat. “I don’t wanna see a shrink!”

“It’s not so bad. You just sit there and talk to them.”

“You’ve been to a shrink?”

“Yeah, Tammy made me go get therapy.” Sergei’s cheeks turned pink.

“You never told me that.”

“I know. It was last fall. Tammy thought I needed to talk to someone about Mama.”

“Oh.” I fidgeted and looked out of the window. I felt tears well up in my eyes. Mama. I need to make things right. I needed to avenge her death. But instead I was wasting time, talking about memory gaps, therapy. Instead of moving forward with my plan, I was regressing.

“So it was actually kinda cool. I saw this woman in Oakland. She’s cool. I had like five sessions, it’s all I could afford, and she helped me a lot. I could actually commit to Tammy after that.”

“Is that why you’re getting married?”

“No!” Sergei protested. “Of course not. But before I was afraid, Tammy would disappear. Like Mama did. That’s what the shrink helped me see.” He paused. “I had avoidant relationship behavior.”

“Avoidant?”

“Yes. Avoidant. Like afraid of commitment.” The muscles on his neck tensed. “You know what. You might be having the same issue, lil bro.”

“I’m not avoidant.”

“You’re avoiding April.” Sergei shrugged.

“No!”

“Kind of? Like she wanted you to move to Philly and you said no.”

“I don’t remember that, either.” I stared at the road, feeling as if a big dark hole was about to absorb me whole.

“Listen, go see the woman. I don’t think you actually have amnesia. But maybe that’s your way of dealing with Mama.” Sergei threw a look at me. “With trauma.”

“Trauma?” I nearly jumped.

“Yes, that’s what Dr. Matucci called it.”

“Who?” My mouth gaped open.

“The shrink. Dr. Matucci.”

“There’s no way.”

“It’s trauma. Losing a parent young.”

We were driving through Schenley park now and stopped at the light at Hobart. “Do you wanna come over? Or go home?”

“Home.” I said without hesitation. I needed to see what was going on, to search for my contract with The Lab, to find evidence of what had happened to me. Sergei’s new age talk about the shrink, trauma, avoidant behavior, it was all irrelevant.

“Alright, then. But how about I make an appointment for you?” Sergei took a right turn onto Greenfield Road.

“What appointment?”

“With Dr. Matucci. I’ll even take you to see her. How about that?”

“Whatever.”