Curly brown hair, river green eyes, a splatter of freckles, that’s Jacob. He is about 1.8 metres, posses a handsome figure and a beautiful personality. He isn’t muscular to be cool, it’s in him. The speed and strength that bred the muscle tissues, to be stronger and broader. Charismatic. It’s all noted down in my notebook of people I love. What if one day, I wake up and the ceiling falls down? What if on my way to school, the bus collides with a car? What if, for some reason... I know it all sounds ridiculous but anything could happen. 

He is a very close friend, I would be fulfilled if he told others I was his girlfriend. He once texted what we would “Classify our relationship to be.” I was shocked. It was like sunshine and daisies blooming inside my chest, giving no space to my dear heart; so it bursts. It took a while to write: “Really good friends who love each other? I don’t know????” He seemed disappointed at my answer, although he wasn’t in front of me, I could see a child at the end of a rollercoaster ride, pleading for another go. Perhaps he was expecting more, maybe there was, a stronger connection than friendship. We smile at each other when we brush against one another during break times, we’ve gone to the movies together a couple of times, we’ve hugged in public, he waits for me after school and walks me home when he doesn’t have PE. Though I’m in netball, swimming, production and orchestra, which delays my home time and eats into my homework. I’ve always been waiting for a kiss to prove what this is. For him to prove he likes-or maybe even loves me. Jacob is really taking his time. 

My phone “dings”, it’s Jacob. 

“Cara, I’m having a haircut. Hope you can still recognise me:)”  

My heart beats increase and I can feel blood flushing to my cheeks. There is this strange  uncertainty, an emptiness in the stomach that I only feel when I go travelling. 

“Will you remember, Cara?”

I jump and find my younger sister: blonde french plait, blue eyes, 1.56 metres; 12 cm shorter than me, peering behind my shoulder. 

“Bella Rose Nightingale! How many times have I kindly reminded you not to mind other people’s business?”

“None today, have you calmly, without stretching your vocal chords.”

Which is true. Bella is brainy without being annoying, which is very like me. Unlike my cousin Albert, who is obsessed with physics: Albert Einstein, his idol. Physics makes my head spin, my sister yawn, my mother smile but secretly roll her eyes and my father complement him but with a sprinkle of sarcasm. 

“Cara?”

“Huh?” 

“You are staring into space again.” 

It’s 10pm, I just manage to hit the keys before I doze off. “Jake, don’t cut your curls too short. See u tomorrow.:)”

Oh. My. Days. 

Jacob Collins is with Mackenzie Boughtwood. His hair is cut shorter and he DYED the front yellow. I shouldn’t be surprised that they are holding hands together, bumping into each other purposely and laughing. Mackenzie is tanned, curvaceous, popular, perfect in every way. I have never seen Jacob more happier than today. The way his mouth is curling up along the sides, the way his eyes are like half moon spectacles and he does it. A kiss. He plants it right on her lips. I must have been staring with my mouth open because a girl with a high ponytail, presumably Charlotte, says airily:

 “Shouldn’t be surprised if you’ve been keeping up with the gossip! It’s all true!” 

My heart is aching, I can feel the emerging tears. “Hold it.” I tell myself

“Cara! Come on, it’s English, your favourite!” It’s Natalie, sandy curls tied back in a ponytail. My best friend. Back in primary teachers always get us mixed up. Last year, my grade 10 teacher thought she was my twin. 

“Cara? Don’t you know? They’ve been together for ages! “

“Ages?” I ask her while jogging to catch up, normally I don’t jog because we have the same pace. Today, the news hit me like a brick. 

“Yeah! This Valentines Day, he sent her a huge bunch of Roses, from “Flowers for You”! Must have cost a fortune! We went there a few months ago, remember? I told you if Michael was to send me…”

I wasn’t listening. How could anyone be when a person they met five months ago, a person they texted for three months, a person who thought was as caring as a best friend, a person who they thought could love, was a person who would ditch one girl who believed, for someone else. I couldn’t. But I’m going to give him another chance. Another day. To make sure it is really Jacob Collins that is dating Mackenzie Boughtwood, the most liked girl in the grade. Because why does he get to date the freaking kindest girl he’s ever met? 

“Hey Cara! How’s it going!” Someone bumps into me as we turn the corner. Short brown curls, constellation of freckles. 

“I really appreciate the pain you added.” I really wanted to state, the truest statement now. But instead, I don’t, like always: Cara, the one who keeps to herself; Cara, the quiet beauty (thanks guys); Cara the secret intelligence… I stared at him blankly while he continues to smile like he achieved an A plus in his English essay. Bother. 

“Cara Nightingale.” 

“Good morning Mrs Hunter.”

Just have to keep it together, for eight hours and dinnertime. Then, I will be released to weep and cry and be angry all I like. Just please focus in class, it's more important than some boy you only met for five months. As if magic happened, the thoughts of Jacob Collins and his new girlfriend wasn’t part of the universe anymore. As if they have been sucked into a black hole. I am concentrating… 

“When was Shakespeare born…”

My brain is working, a hand reaching into the dusted shelves of a library...26 April 1564. That’s right, his birth and death dates are in the same day and month! My hand is furiously writing down the correct answers as well as annotating the “Romeo and Juliet” script.  

“How was your day Cara?” Mom; chestnut hair, almond shaped eyes, turns around in the kitchen, revealing four petite creme brulees. My favourite. 

“Are the Creme Brulees for dessert?” I ask eagerly, though I’m certain they are.

“Cara, will you answer my question first?” 

Memories flood back, it was only a few minutes of seeing them together and it’s like the Nile, the bumping, the laughing, the kiss. 

“Today was fine mom, we had a Shakespeare quiz and I came first equal with Natalie. How was yours?” My throat is tight. I peel a banana and start munching. 

“I am exhausted, Jane didn’t come to work today so I had to do all the paperwork by myself and they are all due next week. I tried to convince Charlie to extend the deadline but-”

“Mom, I’ve got to do homework. It’s as high as Mt Everest.” I aim the banana peel to the bin and it goes in.

“Okay darling, mind your eyes! And yes for the brulees!”

“Ding!” I don’t look because it’s homework time. I reach over to switch it on silent: 

“Hey Cara, how was your day?:)” It’s Jacob. 

Bad because of you! I inhale deeply and continue solving the trig problems. 

“Cara! I got first in cross country today! Look at me!” Messy french plait that I attempted to do this morning, sparkling blue eyes, Bella has crowns and medals all over her and also mud, a decent amount of it. 

“Congratulations Bella!” I try and sound excited but all I manage was a higher pitched statement. I hug her instead to make up for my monotone, not minding the the mud. 

“Wow! That’s a lot of texting from Jacob!” She emphasises on the name.

This time, I can’t stop the urge to look. 

“Cara, do you like my haircut?”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“I am sincerely sorry if I did: sorry, sorry, sorry Carri”

“Are you going to school tomorrow? Are you home?”

“Why didn’t you do you usual Cara thing when you saw me?”

The only thing that makes me smile is the last text, because I don’t even recognise my actions when I’m around him, it’s so easy to slip into myself without really thinking about who I’m talking to. It’s like we are one. As if she understands, Bella hugs me, it’s warm and true. 

“Are you breaking up with Jacob?” She whispers in my ear.

“No.” I sniff. 

“Okay,” I can feel her contemplating behind my back, “I’m going to get some snacks, I’m starving!” 

I sigh and drop my pen. My motivational senses are all switched off: au revoir to my maths homework. I pick up my phone and stare at the texts, what should I write? Nothing. Silence is golden. 

I didn’t even taste the creme brulees, all I was thinking about was Jacob Collins. Lying in bed, I’m still recollecting our times together, the time we saw the movie Wonder; the one time he walked me to my doorstep, the delicious ice cream he bought me. How insignificant they seem now. No one knows, well knew, about our relationship, not even Natalie. Why does that matter? I guess that was a good thing so I wouldn’t be interviewed by her and the worries she will have to carry. All the memories condensed into one single droplet and slid down my face.

“Cara,” Natalie nudges me. Her sandy hair is in a bun today paired with her favourite turquoise earrings matching her cotton dress. 

“Natalie!” I nudge back, quickly sitting down as the bus starts moving.  

“Where were you last night?” She asks narrowing her eyes. 

“Home. Why?” I adjust my position on the bus seat. 

“Oh. Jacob asked me if you were with me because you weren’t replying to his texts. Don’t get me wrong, he texted Michael for my number.” 

I pretend to smooth my tangled hair, feeling just as tangled inside. 

“He seemed really urgent!” Natalie persisted, “He told me a lot and you didn’t even tell me!”

“What was I supposed to tell you?” I groan.

“That you guys are together?” She seems a little hurt but that’s not even a tenth of how I feel. 

“Was.” I corrected. 

“And now?”She knots her eyebrows together.

“Well, didn’t you see? He was with Mackenzie Boughtwood yesterday! He kissed her and he never kissed me in the whole five months we met!” It is always effortless to tell Natalie my troubles. 

“Actually, that was Nick Reid with Makenzie.” She bit her lip mirroring my actions. 

“Wait, give me a minute to breathe.” I lift my head. 

“You need it.” She nods. 

“Oh my days, how could I mistaken Nick for Jacob? They don’t-”

“Cara, you said you guys were together. Now, he is with her.” Her voice shock as she pronounced the pronoun. 

We exchange an irreplaceable glance. A glance filled with tremendous sorrow, worry, shock, pain and betrayal. Outside, Jacob and a girl with brown curls, a few centimetres shorter than him are walking towards school. She looks younger and is chatting playfully with Jacob. As it starts spitting, he takes off his jacket and puts it on the girl while she opens her umbrella. Jacob puts his arm around her so they are both under the petite shelter. I don’t even need to ask, Natalie just wraps her arms around my sobbing shoulders. 

“Oh Cara, some people look nicer than they actually are. I’ve only known him for a few hours and I already hate him.” Natalie declares through gritted teeth. 

“It doesn’t matter now, I have you, right?” I surprised both of us by pulling out two chocolate eclairs from my lunch bag, 

“Your mom made those?” she asked wide eyed. I nodded, a naughty tear trickling down my chin “For us and to us!”

“Cheers!” We both indulge in the eclairs, letting the cream tickle our taste buds. 

“It never did matter-”

“Because we will always have-”

“Each other!” The whole bus fills with our whole hearted laughter. I love it, our catch phrase. Despite its childish sounding and ridiculous subtle meaning, it’s true.

As we head off the ancient bus, the rain droplets had suddenly gained weight and the sky was filled with smoke coloured clouds, casting shadow like figures as we walk. I pull up my rain jacket hood, lucky I checked the weather. “Lucky I wore boots!” I can hardly hear the voice next to me, Natalie was jogging along side me, her hair is already turning brown. She hates the rain and she made up her mind a long time ago. She is shouting with a face of disgust, “I am never leaving my umbrella at home, ever!” 

“Seattle weather, should have been prepared!” I say as we finally reach the school gates. 

“What’s first?” Natalie asks,  heading for the bathrooms.

“Gym.” I hear a moan, “It’s going to be great playing hockey in soggy shoes!”

“I forgot! I wore a dress and forgot to bring shorts to change into!!!!” Natalie complained and combed her wet hair with such great strength she dropped her comb in the sink. 

“It’s going to be fine, you wore bike shorts right?” I ask, picking up her comb.

“T-shirt and jeans,” she mumbled, eyeing me up and down, “I should take your advice more often,”

“Of course!” I grin. Natalie’s face abruptly shifted to a serious and determined look,  “Let’s go track this Jacob Collins down and offer him a taste of Natalie French.” 

I wanted to refuse but her anger had lit mine and it was destined to burn. We linked arms and strode out the bathroom, having no idea where he is. 

“Well, it seems our target had found his way to us!” Natalie scolds as we come to a large group, surrounding a handsome looking boy, short brown hair with a hint of previous curls and a splatter of freckles. Out of everyone I don’t recognise, the girl who was with him this morning sees me and smiles. The same way her eyes turn into half moon spectacles makes my heart pound. She checks her watch, shows a sign of shock, quickly hugs the boy and sprints off while yelling: “Love you Jake! Woohoo!!!”, urging everyone in the crowd to do the same. The action makes Natalie jump, “My god, it’s her again.” Everyone is wishing him Happy Birthday and thrusting gifts into his muscular arms. Oh my days, how could I forget, it’s his birthday! “Let’s go talk to him. “I can feel a tug from Natalie. No,no,no. “Not today Natalie, not on his birthday. I promised him I would be the fourth person to wish him happy birthday after his family and we had plans to celebrate and he was going to invite me over…” Today’s plans could go on forever but because it happened to be the day I see him with another girl, no. Nothing could carry on and be normal. Natalie senses this and says “Let’s head to gym then."

How would you feel if someone you loved, suddenly, without one word, started flirting with another girl? Let’s put it more into context: an athletic, handsome boy whom you met about six months ago, who asked for your number for a group project that didn’t even involve you, which is obviously a reason to talk to you. A boy who kept you awake for many nights contemplating the possibilities to the texting that now seem to grow more and more meaningful; from a daily friendly greeting to questions that seem to have subtexts, to compliments that make you blush and beam. Invitations to hang out that became too hard to resist, forcing you to cancel a day out with your closest friends, and once, a refusal that nearly ended with a broken friendship. A voice so inviting that you become a totally different person, a voice that make you search for its owner everytime you hear it. How would you feel if without one friendly reminder that he was going to move on with someone new, he kisses her. I feel betrayed. I feel angry, shocked, annoyed. I feel sad and if that’s not enough, I am heartbroken.. 

“Watch out!!!”

“Cara Nightingale!” A familiar scream from the other side of the gym woke me, it was Natalie, wavering her arms, furiously gesturlating to something behind me. As I turn to see what it was; a blur of a solid ball flying… a shape of a hockey stick in the way…

A stab of pain jerked me awake, as I force my heavy eyelids open, white ceiling with and faint beeping sounds were the first to greet me, I must be in the hospital. I blink a few times, adjusting my eyes to the light and see a vague outline of two figures, who must be my parents, examining me closely. “Oh Cara, you are awake!” My mum exclaims in relief and bends down to kiss me. The faint floral scent of her perfume soothes my tense skin, thawing my frozen body. She wipes her eyes on her sleeve and kisses me a few more times, “Mom,” I whisper, “I’m sorry,” she touches my face with her cold hands and shakes her head. My dad beams. “Dad, “ I cough, He adjusts the duvet, “It’s okay Cara.” Then a blonde headed girl with sapphire blue eyes walks in leading a boy with brown curls, green eyes and freckles. The girl hugs me and brings the boy to my side. I don’t recognise who they are, my head is fuzzy with frequent aches. I only realise who they are when my mom touches the girl’s shoulders and says “Bella, let them be.” Bella frowns, “I’m fine, Bella.” I assure her as she bends down to hug my frail body. A little convinced, Bella turns to the boy and says: “Take care of her, Jacob,” He nods. Dad gives a look of trust to Jacob and says: “We’ll be outside if you need us Cara.” Jacob sits gently on the bed and holds my gaze for a while before grabbing my left hand. He studies the complex tubes and needles before caressing it in his hands. “I love you Cara.” I cry as the memories flood back. I cry because of the pain in every part of me. I cry as the sincerity in the words bring me to life, thawing the last frozen remains in my body. I cry because of the affection that embraces my heart. “Jake,”I choke, “am I not good enough for you?” He tightens his grip and shakes his head. “I cannot possibly think of any reason why you would doubt yourself. You are beautiful, intelligent, funny, caring, generous. I did not believe humans could be so perfect until I met you.” He speaks slowly and emphasises in the right places. “Then why? Why did you-” He places his fingers lightly on my lips, “I’ve heard, from Natalie. Olivia is my sister, I thought I told you.” He explains. 

“I thought she was younger.” I sob. 

“Our family has always been very close, we value and love each other.” His river green eyes glowing softly, as if speaking. 

I nod my head, cringing at the pain. 

“Like your family.” He adds, wiping my tears away.  

“I’m sorry.” I whimper. 

“No, I should sorry. I am very sorry Cara.” He repeats. 

Dad pokes his head around the door, “Jacob, you should probably go home, it’s quite late, I called your mum, she was getting a little worried.” 

“I’ll just be a moment Mr Nightingale.” Jacob leans over and kisses me on the cheek bone, his lips warm and soft, my heartbeats increase and I feel my face flush. “I love you” he whispers as his lips brush past my ear. I can feel my lips curl up, “I love you too.” I breath. He straightens up his body and grins, “I’ll visit, promise.” My mum smiles, a smile that is full of love, “Thank you for visiting, Jacob.”, “We really, really appreciate it.” Dad adds. “My pleasure, Mr, Mrs and Miss Nightingale.” Jacob says and winks at Bella. 

It’s six o’clock and dad returns with squash ravioli, my favourite. Mom stands up and puts on her coat, “Cara, we are going to go home, Bella has school tomorrow.” She brushes my chestnut hair and kisses me on my nose. “Have a good sleep, love you honey!” Bella cuddles me again, I lift my stiff arms so I can hug back. “Bye mom, night Bella!” I call as Bella trails reluctantly behind mom. “Night guys!” Dad bids. He places the cardboard takeaway box on the bedside table and helps me get up. “Time for dinner! I’ve had mine, it was delicious!” My head feels heavy as if I was standing upside down, I can feel a thin layer of bandage, “Ouch,” I wince at the pain in both my right leg and head. “Careful! Why don’t you sit up and lean on the pillow?” He suggests, plopping an extra pillow behind my back. “Thanks Dad,” I say as he hands me the ravioli. I open the box and the aroma of squash fills the room, I stab a ravioli with the plastic fork and pops it into my mouth. Creamy and sweet, with a hint of nuts, “Mmmm, this tastes amazing!” Dad nods in agreement, eyeing the my food, 

“Would you like some?” I tease. 

“No, no, I’ve had mine!” I could tell by his expression that he really wouldn’t mind more.

“Really dad, it’s a big portion!” Doesn’t hurt to offer again. He beams and steals a few. 

“What happened,” I began, “I mean, to me.”

“Well, you were playing hockey,” He starts, 

“I remember that, dad.” I nod.

“A hockey ball was flying towards you and Natalie tried to warn you. You turned your head, saw the ball and tried to save yourself but tripped over a hockey stick that was in your way. Now, I heard that from Natalie, who also called while I was having dinner, asking if you were okay-”

“Did you tell her I was fine?” I couldn’t let Natalie worry about me any more than she already is. 

“Yes, I said you had woken up and endured a friend’s visit. She was thrilled to hear, and obviously relieved!”

“I do have a good friend.” I had to mention. 

“Anyway, you are more colourful,” He laughs awkwardly, “you were like a vampire when I drove you here, blood flowing down your head, your face bleached with pain and shock.” I looked down at my ravioli, unable to find the right words. 

“Cara Nightingale, you are very strong and extremely brave. I had to endure the knowledge of a minor concussion, a broken leg and several ghastly looking wounds.” He squeezes my shoulder. 

I shiver at the new knowledge of my injuries, “I’m really sorry you have to bear with a disabled daughter for a while. I should pay more attention.” 

“I was surprised that my focused daughter would be this clumsy!” He agreed, shifting his position slightly, “Cara, sometimes it’s better to understand the whole scenario before deciding what to do, feel and say.” His face was serious.

 I sighed, “You guys know?” 

“Informed by Jacob, who bravely summarised the whole confusion and of course Natalie was kind enough to add a few details.” His face relaxed. 

“I should have been more realistic. I should act after the veil fully lifts from the situation.” I declare, cringing at my parallel structure of things that could have saved everything. 

“It’s all clear now, don’t be too harsh on yourself. Finish you dinner and I’ll tuck you to bed.” 

It’s Saturday and I am finally released from the hospital. The soft autumn breeze rustles through the colourful leaves, making them twirl under the morning sun. It’s only been five days, the temperature has dropped and the parking lot is mostly empty except for a few staff vehicles. My head is lighter, no more fuzzy aches that interrupted with my thinking. I slowly practise walking with crutches, stopping every so often to correct my coordination. “Ready to go home?” Mum asks as I settle in the backseat. “Absolutely, you didn’t have to ask.” I beam. “How are you feeling?” She glances at me from the rear mirror. “I’m...close to normal, only a broken leg left to heal.”,  “I see, that will heal soon, just remind yourself every now and then to pay attention to what’s around you, okay?” “Yes madam, I will.” I promise. 

The doctor recommends I rest for at least three hours a day. It’s really a euphemism for lying in bed and doing only breathing and minor thinking. This is the third day back, so I can read or use the computer for an hour or two for catching up with school work.  Even though my parents notified my teachers, I decided to finish off a small portion. I texted Natalie that I’ll be returning to school next Monday and I reassure her I’m recovering well. I’m anxious for the unfavorable attention I might bring in school. Mum had taken a week off work to look after me. I heard a knock followed by: “Honey, enough working, lie down for a while.” I took her advice as a headache begins to return. When I was little I used to pretend I had magic, I pleaded my mom to buy me a wand for my fifth birthday. Soon, I was introduced to Harry Potter, the exhilarating series of magic, love, the evil and the good. I was so in love with the character Hermione Granger that I bought myself her wand. In my free time I would memorise spells and replay scenes in the movie. Two years ago I started reading the Twilight Saga which I again imprinted on. And yes, I imagined having a vampire boyfriend and being a vampire myself. I never doubted the strength of my imagination. Strangely, I don't only imagine myself as a powerful, perfect being, I often recreate myself into someone weak, someone worth pitying. As I begin to do that now, I reflect on my flaws to be more accurate with my recreation. I have a terrible memory, I’m quick tempered, I’m stubborn...all of a sudden, I realise I can’t recognise faces easily, I forget who I’m talking to the moment I focus on something else, I often mix people up. I shot up from my bed, ignoring the agony of my head and hop to my desk. I opened my laptop and type in “Prosopagnosia”. I click on the National Institute of Neurological disorders and strokes. 

“Prosopagnosia is a neurological disorder characterized by the inability to recognize faces. Prosopagnosia is also known as face blindness or facial agnosia. The term comes from the Greek words for “face” and “lack of knowledge.” Depending upon the degree of impairment, some people with prosopagnosia may only have difficulty recognizing a familiar face; others will be unable to differentiate between unknown faces, while others may not even be able to distinguish a face as being different from an object. Some people with the disorder are unable to recognize their own face.  Prosopagnosia is not related to memory dysfunction, memory loss, impaired vision, or learning disabilities.” I bit my lip as I scroll down to the prognosis section. 

“Prosopagnosia can be socially crippling.  Individuals with the disorder often have difficulty recognizing family members and close friends. They often use other ways to identify people, such as relying on voice, clothing, or unique physical attributes, but these are not as effective as recognizing a face.” My heart pounds at every true fact, I can’t recognise faces, I identify people by features such as voice, clothing and yes, physical attributes. I click on a face test by faceblind.org, it’s on famous faces and they all look the same to me. The feeling of helplessness, the feeling when you can’t get through your message to people who are misunderstanding or accusing you. I feel so weak. I close my eyes and sighed deeply, a stunt of candle with the last flames burning, I pray for the moment I opened my eyes, this will all be a mistake. I start at the sound of my sister breathing, “Bella!” I cried.  She doesn’t move an inch, doesn’t try to reason why she’s in my room, she just stares at the screen and wraps her arms around my shoulder, breathing. “I-” As if her calmness diffused into me, I don’t hide what I am doing, “I wanted to be sure before breaking the news.” I said with a tone matching the tranquil atmosphere. “I see.” She ponders. Bella is remarkably thoughtful, she is twelve, four years younger than me, though my sixteenth birthday is in December so we are only three years in difference. I return to doing the quiz and unfortunately, the miracle didn’t happen and faces still look the same. “Don’t help me, Bella.” I warn as she tries to signal. “You know, mom always says online quizzes are unreliable.” “I know, but this one is from the faceblind.org and it’s a research quiz. It gives me results and feedback.” I say as I finish the quiz, somehow waiting eagerly for the results. I pat the seat next to me, there’s no hiding now, Bella will inevitably spread the news and it may be a good thing. We both gasped at my results compared to non prosopagnosic people. For a moment I didn’t want to believe it, “it’s only a quiz,” I mumbled to myself, “perhaps an unreliable one just like Bella said.” Bella finished the sentence for me. “Cara, this is no joke, we need to check it out.” I nodded before the refusal rose. 

Bella nudges me as I swallow another spoonful of mashed potatoes. I clear my throat, glancing nervously at my parents as they look up. “I, um, sorry. No Bella, I can do it.” I took a sip of water and continued, “Mom, Dad, I think I am prosopagnosic. I did a quiz with Bella this afternoon and my results were way off.” I wait for them to say something before continuing on. “As you always say, mom, online quizzes are not accurate, I was wondering if I could go to the doctors.” I swallowed. “Honey,” I could see her eyes welling up. “It might not be prosopagnosia, it could be something else.” I try to comfort her. “We support your decision Cara, when would you like to go?” Dad says wiping his mouth on the napkin. Relieved, I shrug, “Anytime before I go back to school, so it doesn’t nest in my mind. ” 

“Sure thing, I’ll book a visit straightaway.” He puts his plate away and gets his computer from the office. I help mom take the dishes to the sink trying to brighten up the mood by humming her favourite tune. “Cara, you are doing a wonderful job recognising us, you know.” She said beaming. “Thanks mom, maybe I just have minor prosopagnosia.” I grin back. “Is tomorrow at half past ten okay?” Dad calls from the living room. “If it’s fine with you guys.” I said as I shuffle to the couch, “I don’t have to go alone, right?” I asked, suddenly uncertain of the answer. “No, mom will go with you, I have a meeting.” He said apologetically. “It’s fine, thank you.” I inform mom about the appointment tomorrow and return to my room. 

This all seemed to go too fast. We are sitting in the dark blue chairs waiting for my name. Mom reaches over to squeeze my hand, I held on, not wanting to let go. Posters of faceless people, fill the walls, “I see your face like everyone else but in my head, that’s what happens. ” I tell my mom. Right now her green almond shaped eyes, tall nose and chestnut hair are barely enough to inform me that she is my mom if another woman with the same features sits next to me. “Cara Nightingale!” A tall woman with ginger hair and freckles greets us with a warm smile. “I am Dr. Gibbs, come on in.” I am given a series of face recognition tests and other diagnosis tests. The results are given back and my score is below normal range, Dr Gibbs advises us that she still needs to further look into those results and my medical records. Next she asks me a few questions regarding previous experiences with mixing people up or not recognising them at all, I reflect on the most recent one on mistaking Nick for Jacob. She asks me to dig deeper, “When was the first time you found it hard to recognise mom?”. I honestly can’t remember, “Maybe when I was around ten?”, Mom looked at me in disbelief, “Really? Why didn’t you tell me?” I gave her an apologising smile and returned my attention to Dr Gibbs.

“Okay, did you have any serious head injuries around that age?” I peer at mom blankly, “She did knock her head when she fell during her dance performance.”, her voice wavered as she answered. “Oh, yeah.” I gasped, unable to contain the shock. “It is most likely the knock damaged her occipito-temporal lobe, any other injuries?” She asked as she scribbled smoothly on her notepad. “A very recent minor concussion from a hockey ball.” I answered, biting my lips. “Thank you for that, I will finalise the results now and hand them back to you later. If you guys like, feel free to have lunch and come back in one hour’s time.” 

“Acquired prosopagnosia results from injuries that damage the occipito-temporal lobe and according to your medical history, the lobe was damaged in your injury when you were ten. The good news is your recent concussion didn’t add to the damage but unfortunately the damage cannot be undone.” Dr. Gibbs took a long, melancholic breath and says: “Miss Nightingale, your tests are positive and you have Acquired prosopagnosia.” I exhaled deeply, absorbing all the information. “Thank you for your help, Dr. Gibbs.” I said as I stand up to shake her hand. She looked taken aback at my reaction, “I know, a diagnosis such as this will not lead to a simple life. But I have lived with it for five years and I have learnt to look closer at people than I otherwise would have. I have worked harder to commit those features and identifiers I created for my own convenience. Although there isn’t much to be done about this, I think I have become a better me.” I glowered, beaming at my mom and Dr. Gibbs who were both smiling through tears . “You are honestly the most remarkable client I have had. Your words are worth more than anything in the world and I think your mindset have made your life much much easier than we all thought. Well done Cara, I am so proud!” Dr. Gibbs declares, pulling us three together, into one tight hug. 

The moment I step inside the door, I am embraced by all three pairs of arms, warm, tight, understanding and loving. “I love you guys.” I whisper into a cotton shirt, “We love you too,” mom whispers back, kissing my hair, “So, so much,” Dad adds patting my back. “You are the best gift we can all ask for!” Bella announces with a smile in her voice. “Thank you.” I sob, unable to contain the tears of joy, fulfillment and love.

I study my reflection in the mirror, a tall girl of fifteen with long legs that just fill her jeans and slender arms by her side. Hazelnut brown eyes, almond shaped like my mom, thin eyebrows, brown hair with hints of gold from childhood and pale skin that transforms into a darker shade in summer. I take a long time choosing what to wear, what would someone wear to meet their boyfriend’s family for the first time? My cast had finally come off, I choose a cotton floral dress with a pair of leggings. I slip into my favourite leather boots and twirl around in front of the mirror. I let down my hair, combing it smoothly and clipping a leaf shaped hair clip onto the right side. I smile at my reflection, “You look quite stunning, Sister.” Bella peers through the door. “Thank you, Bella.” I grin back. I take my knitted sweater in case the chilly dusk takes me unprepared and skip downstairs. Jacob is waiting in the living room, wearing a dark green button down shirt and navy trousers. I kiss my parents and sister goodbye and step into the star lit night.

We stroll down the sidewalk in silence, the wind whistling melodically. “Have you changed your mind about bringing me to see your family?” I teased quietly, not wanting to break the silence. “No, I am just stunned by your beauty.” He said, flashing his charming smile. I can sense my face blushing. Prosopagnosia, I remind myself, I must build a bridge over a river. It’s possible I might flirt with the wrong person and cause destruction to both of us. It’s not only Jacob I have to tell, I have to confess to Natalie too, I don’t want her getting hurt. “Cara, are you cold?” Jacob asks, touching my shaking arms.  I quickly put on my sweater and shake my head, “I was just thinking.” I said, desperately searching for a way to begin. “Jacob, I want to share a piece of me with you, if that’s okay.” I say, glancing up to see his reaction. “Of course Cara, I feel privileged!” He gives me his full attention. I take a deep breath and start talking about my habit of writing down things about people I meet, “Like their unique features and personalities.” “What did you note down about me?” I knew he was going to ask, “Jacob Collins: Tall, possess a handsome figure. Charismatic.” I didn’t go into too much detail for one, I was embarrassed and two, I needed to get to the main point. He chuckles, throwing another breathtaking smile. “In the beginning, I thought I did it for fun but then, it turned out I needed them, I needed the identifiers of each person to find them, to recognise them.” Jacob nods his head, encouraging me to continue, “So the thing I wanted to tell you, is that I have acquired prosopagnosia which is the inability to recognise faces. This is caused by an injury that damaged a part of my brain called the occipito -temporal lobe.” I wait for him to say something, instead he pulls me to a bench and sat me down. His eyes are soft, glowing like the time he visited me in the hospital. He tucks my chocolate brown hair behind my ear, but my hair not being obedient falls softly on my collarbone instead. “I’m sorry to break the news.” I said helplessly. He pulls me close to his chest , “It’s not your fault Cara, sometimes the worst things happen to the best people and we don’t even know why.” He says gently, kissing my forehead. “Don’t worry, I won’t lose you.” I said, giving him a reassuring smile. “Thank you Cara. And remember, I will always be next to you to hold your hand, to guide you to my heart so you will never have to search for me. I will always be there. Always to love you.” 

His lips touch mine.