The Art of Mending Memories

The Art of Mending Memories 31

The Art of Mending Memories

Chapter 31

I turned the key in the ignition, cutting the low hum of the engine. The sky was dark by that point. I had just driven home in Aaron's car, my mind blank the whole way.

What had happened? He started to shift, I was fairly sure, but I had no idea why. With the exception of the full moon, and rare moments of emotional instability, werewolves had full control over their transformation. What, then, would cause Aaron to loose control? He didn't seem emotionally distressed.

There was a soft knock on the car door. I jumped, a gasp escaping me. I turned to see a figure standing next to the door. I focused my vision to see Aunt Jane staring at me through the glass, her hand raised next to the window.

I opened the door with a sigh. A blast of cool air washed over me.

"Hey," I greeted quietly.

"Hey," she replied. "You've been out here for nearly ten minutes. You okay?" She looked at the car for a moment. "Why do you have Aaron's car."

"I had to borrow it," I mumbled stepping from the warm interior.

Aunt Jane stared at me through slitted eyes. "Where's Aaron?"

"I don't know," I answered truthfully. "He had to run."

Aunt Jane nodded and wrapped her arm around me as I closed the door to his car. "Where did you guys go?"

We walked into the house and I took off my shoes and jacket. I walked bare-footed to the kitchen and grabbed myself a glass of water. I took a few sips before answering the question.

"We went to the art museam. Jean Polking has an exhibit there, so we went there.”

“I didn’t know Aaron was interested in art,” Aunt Jane reflected.

I shrugged. “He wanted to take me some place I would enjoy.”

Aunt Jane smiled. “Smart boy.”

I shrugged, tired from the day and the recent happenings. Adrenalin had spiked my system when Aaron started changing, but now I was weary and a little numb feeling.

“I’ll be in my room,” I told my aunt as I exited the kitchen.

“Why did Aaron have to run?” She asked quickly before I could walk up the stairs.

I paused with my hand on the banister.

“I don’t know.”

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

I heard a knock on the door around noon. I had been up for nearly an hour, but had yet to change into day clothes. I was a little hesitant answering the door in a tank-top and sweatpants.

I knew who it was as soon as I heard the knock. I felt his familiar—and increasingly comforting—presence outside my house. A small smile crept onto my face as I got up from the computer chair to answer the door.

The light shone on his black hair, making the strands reflect a bluish light. He wore a simple white shirt and jeans. His hands were tucked into his pockets, and he was hunched over in his stance.

“Morning,” I greeted.

He smiled weakly. “You’re okay,” he stated.

“Yeah. Fine. You?”

Aaron looked down and shrugged. “I’ve been better.”

I nodded. “Want to come in?”

Aaron smiled weakly at me. “Yeah,” he replied.