The plane ride to London is dreadfully long.
I still get flashbacks from the recent traumatic events at Beacon Hills. The kanima's scaly skin, with its toxic venom—which somehow affected me, despite me being the kanima. I'm truly thankful for Lydia—my Lydia—for returning my key. The key that opened my memories into the kanima's mind, resolving my past which caused this whole mess in the first place.
Oh Lydia... I'm sorry I had to leave.
We spent the entire summer together, though. It was an amazing time—excluding the annoying times when Derek would abruptly interrupt and train me on how to control my werewolf powers, since he knew I was leaving for London soon.
The London werewolves are... different than us, Derek had said. He did not expand that much further than that.
I don't know why he helped at all, honestly. Especially when he and his uncle attempted to kill me—who, by the way, was supposed to be dead in the first place. Seeing him alive still irks me to this day. I did die that day though; I could feel death surrounding my soul. But something called out to me... was it Lydia? I don't know. But that voice, along with the werewolves impaling me, somehow sparked my own werewolf genes.
And I was revived. Somehow, being a werewolf isn't exciting to me as it once would. Maybe because I was leaving Beacon Hills, leaving my lacrosse team. My life sucks like that, although I must have deserved it.
Anyway, I push the memories of the past and focus on the present. It is near the end of August, a warm Saturday; my boarding school in London would start on Monday. It is called the Skye Boarding School, and their mascot is the Skye Serpent. I find it ironic that I was a serpent-shifter just a few months ago.
My parents sit a few seats behind me, and I am sitting next to a lovely stranger. She has strawberry-blonde curls like Lydia does, with rosy cheeks and full red lips. She almost looks like a replica of Lydia, if it wasn't for her distinctive blue eyes, which almost looks like mine: an icy blue, representing the innocent lives I had took from my time as the kanima, according to Derek.
All the British werewolves follow a Code, which includes not killing innocents... You will be frowned upon, Jackson. Be careful, because you will need a werewolf pack as soon as possible. I remember Derek's stinging words.
The girl notices me looking at her. "You look so familiar..." she whispers to me.
"I can say the same thing to you," I say.
She scoffs. "It's probably just the attractive face. I've dated so many guys that look like you I can't even keep track."
"Whatever." I grin.
"How old are you? What's your name?" she asks me.
"16, about to be 17 in a few months. And my name is Jackson. Why, how about you?"
"My name's Maggie, and I'm 17. I was visiting my relatives in California the entire summer, but now I'm going back to school in London."
It's obvious she was in California like me; Beacon Hills is in there plus this plane is a one-way trip to London. But my eyes perk up at something else she said. "A boarding school, maybe?"
"Yeah. Skye Boarding School."
"I'm transferring there."
She raises an eyebrow. "Oh? Maybe I'll see you around then." Then she puts on earphones and stops talking to me.
But it doesn't matter, because I'll be seeing this 'Maggie' soon.