The Transfer Student

The Transfer Student: Chapter Twenty-One

Shane led me through the doors and into the foyer, there were swords and battle axes hanging on the stone walls and thick, dark red rugs on the stone-tiled floor. A monstrous staircase led up before branching into two hallways that went right and left.

We took the hall way to the right and after two more stairwells we arrivied in a circular room that could only be one of the towers. The walls of the room were painted a pastel blue and the white canopy bed was hung with curtains and bedding that was a soft yellow. A white vanity and dresser were vintage and painted with little blue flowers. The floorboards were painted white and had rugs that matched the walls. There were two windows on opposite sides of the tower that looked out onto the garden.

The firmilarity of the room made my head spin, and I felt suffocated.

"This was yours when you were a baby," Shane said, looking around the room fondly even though it clashed horribly with his dark appearance.

There was a framed photo on the dresser and I walked over to pick it up. In the picture was a little girl no older than one or two, she had soft brown hair and doe-eyes. She sat in the lap of a little boy who was maybe four years old, he had dark hair and the most beautiful eyes, he had his arms around the little girl as he grinned up at the camra with her.

"No way," I muttered.

"I lost my best friend when I was only five," Shane said, looking over my shoulder. Turning my head I looked up at him, only inches apart. "Almost a decade and a half later, I finally found her." His words gave me goosebumps, as I saw his typical expression of a sarcastic badass turn to a sweet smile. "I recognized her immediately, halfway up a tree in a dark forest with a werewolf licking its lips at her feet...I somehow knew it was you."

The faint memories came pouring in my brain like he had turned on the faucet in a sink that had been dry for years. Shane's eyes, the feeling of his arms around me, his smell of homemade soap that was a mix of pine woods and cinnamon.

"I remember," I whispered. Leaning forward I pressed my face into his neck, hearing his intake of breath. I inhaled the comforting scent and smiled, "You smell exactly like you did all those years ago."

~~~

I refused to let Shane leave me to spend the night alone in the room that used to be mine. The memories were too shaky, he was the only thing that was solid in a word that had fallen to pieces. 

To that Shane said "Well, good, because I wasn't planning on leaving."

Laying in bed we faced each other, we talked for what seemed like just a few minutes, though it was more like four hours. When you haven't seen your best friend in that long you have a lot to catch up on.

Finally, as we drifted off into sleep I figured out a little bit more about myself. Even though I did not recognize Shane when he appeared in the woods just days ago, something in my gut had told me that I could trust him. It would be out of my character to go anywhere with a stranger, even if he was the only thing that stood between me, and me getting killed by a werewolf. 

The mind is a strange thing, I thought drowsily, smiling at the dark-haired boy in front of me.