Page 196 of Shy Girls Can't Date Celebrities
“Tell me,” he says softly. “What did they say?”
I lift my palms up. “Does it matter?”
He blinks at me. “Of course, it matters.”
I shake my head. “Not now. You’ve got your memory back.”
Mom gasps and clutches Wyatt’s shoulder. “Is that true?”
Before Wyatt can respond, Casey and Callum race into the foyer.
“Did you ground her, Mom?” Casey asks with glee.
Mom waves them off. “Not now, you two.”
Callum’s lip upturns as he glances around at us. “What the heck is going on?”
Mom goes to shoo them again, but Wyatt stops her.
Wyatt nods at Casey and says, “I think I can answer some of your Circle 8 cult questions.”
Casey lifts on the balls of her feet with interest. “You suddenly have intel?”
Wyatt rubs the side of his head. “My brain might be less broken now.”
Callum gasps, hugging his arms around Wyatt’s waist. “You got your memory back?”
Wyatt nods. “It’s jumbled, but I’m getting there.”
Mom ushers us into the living room. “What can we do to help you?” she asks, gesturing for Wyatt to take a seat on the couch.
Wyatt picks up his phone, which he left on the coffee table before we went to Main Street. “Maybe I should call my psy-psy...”
Mom gasps, motioning at the phone. “If you have a psychologist helping you through this stuff, you should definitely call them.”
Wyatt mumbles a laugh. “Dang it. I thought I could say the word this time.”
I lean into him for support. “No big deal. The fog inside your head is clearing. It’s amazing.”
Wyatt braces himself. “And scary.”
Casey’s eyes widen. “What if you remember stuff you don’t want to know?”
Mom plants her hands on her hips in scolding-mode. “Casey, don’t be heinous.”
Wyatt blows out a breath. “She’s got a point. I forgot this stuff for a reason.”
I sit back. “What do you mean?”
“The doctors told me I’d suffer some kind of em-emotional shock.” Wyatt takes a beat before continuing. “Something major happened, and I dealt with it by blocking it out.”
“So it’s more psychological than physical?” I ask. “I remember Dr. Fincher saying something about that. That your injury and your memory loss didn’t exactly match up.”
Wyatt rubs his forehead. “I remember a lot of shouting. Arguing. Just a lot of tension on set.”
Mom gestures at Wyatt’s phone. “Do you want to make the call? I can show you to Daniel’s den.”
Wyatt nods, thanking Mom and following her out of the living room.
