Page 14 of Don’t Forget Me

It was as if my dread to be near him had summoned his presence. I knew it was his hand that had stopped the elevator from fully closing. Silently, he strode into the boxed area and pressed on the same button I had done moments before. There’d been a little star beside it, indicating that it was the ground floor, and the only exit.

He cleared his throat. I kept my gaze focused on the floor. He was right next to me. Ezra was in the elevator with me. This spoiled rich boy, whom I had once known, was right beside me. He knew I was in the elevator and yet he chose to ride with me.

“So, is this how it’s going to be every time we are in the same room? You’re gonna go mute on me?” he asked.

I couldn’t control my tongue as he repeated the first words he had said when we met. “Whose fault is that?”

“That was five years ago,” he whispered. From the corner of my eye, I noticed he’d been leaning on the wall of the elevator, facing me.

“Not for me,” I replied, checking the number box to know which floor we were on, to know how long this torture would last.

He sighed. “I thought that after all this time, you⁠—”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

“I’m sorry—” he began as rage rattled within me.

“Yes, Ezra, this is how it’s going to be. You may have offered a very good deal, the movie deal I’ve dreamed about my entire life, but that does not change the ridiculous excuse that your human existence is to the universe.”

His lips gaped. The elevator dinged open. The tapping of my shoes resounded as I marched off, away from my chamber of punishment.

eight

LYSANDRA

5 YEARS AGO

As soon as the plane landed and I got my luggage, I hurried out of the airport and rushed toward the trams outside. Each had a sign explaining where they would be heading. My destination was the center of Edinburgh, and as I stared at the different posters. I realized that I was finally in Scotland.

My new life.

I felt like I could finally breathe, despite being stuck in an airplane for almost an entire day. The night was bright, and I was heading to my new home. A place of knowledge and growth. I would be able to make something of myself here.

I pulled my baggage with me into the bus; excitement giving me renewed strength until I found a spot in the tram. The trolley was almost empty, with only a few visitors and residents sitting in different corners. The tram hissed as it moved, and the street lights came into view. The ground turned to cobblestone, the buildings grew tall as their windows glimmered. People walked on the streets wearing trench coats, their breath visibly condensing with every word they pronounced, their hands in their pockets—possibly trying to protect themselves from the frigid air.

Oh, but I loved how cold it was outside. The winters here were different from the ones at home, and I couldn’t wait to experience autumn in its full potential.

A smile formed across my face, which was rare. I loved how it felt to be giddy, happy, and free.

The memories of the past no longer mattered.

The tram had come to a stop, and I found myself staring at what seemed to be a castle. But it was Blackthorn House Academy. Grand and dark. The cedar of the castle was mighty under the moonlight. The windows had pristine latches; a very small detail that reflected the magnificence of the entire building. A fountain was at the center of the court, with gardens that stretched for miles beside the school. Fields of flowers and grass lie ahead, waiting for me to venture through them.

I picked up my baggage, making sure to nod the driver a goodbye. The driver’s expression remained impassive as I stepped off the bus, but footsteps followed after mine. I looked back to find a boy and a girl with suitcases in their hands. They both watched the school with a glint of admiration as well.

“Are you two students here?” I asked.

“Yes, we’re international. You too?” The boy said with a thick accent that I couldn’t quite place, but that let me know English was not his first language. His tan skin resembled mine under the moonlight.

“I’m from the States. How about you two?” I asked.

“Brazil. I’m Davi, and my friend here is also from the United States.” He gestured to the girl with long black hair and brilliant sky-blue eyes. She seemed to be about a few inches taller than me and had a radiating glow.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Camille.” She extended her hand.

“Lysandra. What state are you from?”

“Michigan, and you?”