After an officer finds an unconscious boy dressed in medieval clothing and discovers he has no memories of where he came from, she decides to take him under her wing. She realizes quickly, however, that medieval clothing is not the only thing that m...
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The following two days flew by rapidly. It was now Thursday, the day before our big project was due. The week had passed surprisingly fast, and I guess I could thank Alex for that.
I hadn't even known him a whole week, yet somehow it felt like I'd known him my whole life. This made things seem like they were finally looking up. The only thing that I had reason to be concerned about was Mr. Shortt and Audri. I noticed Shortt becoming more edgy with every day that passed, and his hawk-like eyes seemed to be watching Alex and I closer than ever. And every day I walked into that classroom my palm tingled like crazy but then stopped immediately the second I set foot out of the room. It made me nervous.
Then there was Audri. We still had not spoken since she told me about Alex, and I realized I could not keep that up for much longer. But every time I opened my mouth to say something to her, bitter anger would swell up inside me and force any words from forming. So the days passed between us in silence.
School on Thursday passed very similarly to Tuesday and Wednesday with the same routine. The talk concerning me and Alex had lessened a considerable amount, and that gave me hope that I would like Jesper High after all. For the time being, I was considerably content. But naturally it couldn't last. Everything seemed to go downhill when Alex and I gathered in the clearing to work on our project for the final time.
Before we could go to the clearing, we needed to retrieve our props. Alex walked in one direction while I headed in the other toward my house. I picked up my pace as I approached the small walkway that led onto my porch.
I saw no sign of Audri when I entered the house which did not surprise me in the slightest. She knew how angry I was with her and I think she was trying to give me space.
Swallowing back the sudden lump that formed in my throat, I raced up the stairs and burst into my room. I quickly made my way over to my bed and then knelt down and reached underneath. I instantly felt the cold, familiar touch of my small wooden chest. I slowly slid it out and examined it.
It looked the same as ever, only now with a new, thin layer of dust covering its surface. My hand reached towards my neck and I lifted a small string holding a key from beneath my shirt. I lifted it up and around my head then fitted the key into the lock on the chest. It opened with a soft click.
I tucked the key back beneath my shirt and opened the trunk lid. The hinges whined in protest and I stifled a sneeze as a billow of dust swept across my face.
I pulled my dark blue form of my cloak and ran my hand across its smooth surface. It had been a long time since I had taken it out, and I'd almost forgotten how beautiful it was. The cloak's material was unlike anything I had ever felt, and unlike the trunk I could see neither dust nor any visible blemishes anywhere on it. A cursive C, knitted with golden thread, was sewn into the top right corner with impossibly tight, neatly woven stitches. My palm tingled slightly as I held it, but not in the dangerous way I was used to. It gave me a warm tender feeling, like I was home.
