Hunter woke up the following morning, realizing he had fallen asleep right after Grayson left. True to form, the Bostonian had left his mark. On his desk there was a detailed note regarding Grayson’s departure,  instructions for proper self care, a six pack of nutrition shakes, a small tub of pain relief rub, and a fleece Redwood blanket.
This stuff must have cost a fortune. Hunter cringed. Anything with the school logo on it is at least fifty bucks. I’ll have to pay him back for this.

Hunter wiggled his toes and stretched his limbs before sliding out of bed. His legs were expectedly wobbly, and he held onto the bed for support as he made the short shuffle to the desk. He checked his phone, seeing 6 new messages. 

The first three were from his mother, inquiring about his first shift alone. He tried to assure her that he had shifted just fine, leaving out  Grayson and Tom’s involvement altogether. She probably texted because she doesn’t know if I can talk yet. The thought of his mother putting in the extra consideration made him weepy. He hoped that in time he would get better at shifting, so that he could at least put his mother at ease. 

The fourth message was an apology for Malcolm, apologizing as he had ventured off-campus for the weekend. Hunter didn’t bother replying to that one, feeling a bit irritated with him. 

The fifth text was in no way welcome and it took a bit of self-control not to chuck his phone out the window again.

When the moon came, I thought of you.
--Colton

“I bet you did, you dick.” Hunter growled. Wind whistled through the tape, and he took a deep breath to calm himself. He deleted the message and moved on.

The sixth text was from Grayson, and only an hour old.
Do you want to have breakfast at Marconi? You don’t have to walk over, I’ve got a plan.

His mood brightened considerably. Normally post-shift mornings were spent with earphones jammed in, moving as little as possible. But that was back home, in the comfort in his pack. He knew those days were over.  
He replied quickly, ready to leave his room and his thoughts behind.

Grayson showed up at his door twenty minutes later.
“When I came back you were knocked out.” He leaned against the doorframe, hands in his pockets. “How are you feeling?”
Hunter adjusted a grey beanie on his head and grabbed hold of his crutches. He looked at Grayson over his dark shades. “I'm...getting there. Give me... a f-few days.”
Grayson stared at Hunter’s beanie hat. Despite how often he saw the young werewolf, he always seemed to be sporting a different one. “How many hats do you have?”
“S-Six of these, and...a top hat. You know, for special occasions.”
“A top hat? Sounds fancy. Maybe we should go have dinner sometime so you can wear it.”
“I only wear that hat to the fanciest of restaurants.” Hunter sneered. “So there better be a McDonald’s nearby.”
Grayson laughed at that. Hunter seemed much better than the day before. “I’ll check. For now, your chariot awaits!”
“M-My whah?”

The chariot in question was a white golf cart, emblazoned with the school logo in bright red.
“How’d you get one of these?” Hunter asked.
“I happened to bump into a professor using one during my morning jog. He let me borrow it, but we have to be quick.” Grayson explained.
Hunter climbed aboard, Grayson took the wheel and they were off.
“Woah...Why does riding in this thing make me feel so damn important?”
“I know how you feel.” Grayson looked forward. “Don’t they still ride these on movie sets?”
“Maybe that’s it. You might have to keep the key. I don’t think I can go back to walking.”
Grayson flashed him a small smile, which he couldn’t help but return.

Shift aside, the last 24 hours seemed unreal. Not only did Grayson know about his illness, he didn’t seem to care at all. For all he knew it was a fever dream. The cart hit a bump and one of the crutches banged into his knee, letting him know it wasn’t.

During their short ride across the campus, a news van edged by. Grayson steered them slightly off the road and back again to make space. “They must be here to cover what happened to that girl…” He mused.
“W…...What girl?”
“Oh, right.” Grayson gave him a sideways glance. “I never got to tell you. They found a girl in the woods behind Rosewood. They haven’t released a name, but judging by the wolf ears, I’d say it was the maid girl from Anime club.”
“Ashley…” Hunter felt as if he was going to be sick. “Ashley’s dead?”
“No. At least we don’t think so. There isn’t a lot of info but what was leaked is being compiled online on the unofficial school pages. They didn’t take her out in a bodybag, so everybody thinks she’s alive. Her roommate isn’t saying anything. The only thing we know is that it was an animal attack.”

Hunter was quiet.

“Do you know her?” Grayson asked.
“She’s...like me.” Hunter tightened his grip on the crutches, his voice low. “We only talked a few times. She was nice.”
“I saw her at Anime club. The only reason I knew we had one was because of her. ” Grayson steered away from the garden patch and towards Marconi. He waved to a pair of students going by. Hunter looked like he was going to burst into tears any minute.
“I’m sure she’s going to be fine.” Grayson assured him. “Maybe all the secrecy is because she’s a werewolf?”
“Maybe…” 
“That is surprising though.” Grayson admitted. “I guess the wolf ears weren’t just for show.”
“....”
“That was insensitive. I’m sorry.”
“....”

Grayson parked the cart in a row of others just outside the faculty housing. He looked over at Hunter again. An animal attack was one thing, but perhaps Hunter’s low spirits came from his shared affliction with the victim. Perhaps he felt like more than a bystander.
“Maybe you want to do this another time?”
Hunter glanced up at him, tawny eyes muddled with confusion. “No way. We’re already here.”
Grayson took the key out of the admission. “Okay. I just need to take this back to my professor real quick.”
Hunter stretched.“I’ll just walk up to the house.”
They parted, Grayson walking quickly into the apartment building and Hunter hobbling towards the dorm. Light rain began to sprinkle down as Hunter mulled over what he had heard. While his peers questioned their safety, he questioned Ashley’s. It had been a Full Moon before she was found, which meant she should have shifted. What could have attacked her or perhaps, who? He looked up at the Marconi house. Grayson caught up with him just as he reached the door. The autumn wind seemed to blow right through Hunter, and he shivered.
Grayson’s forehead creased with worry. “What’s the matter, are you cold?”
Hunter rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I’m cold. Everyone’s cold. Stop worrying and let us in, Doc.”
Grayson punched a sequence into the keypad. The door clicked and unlocked.
They stepped into the warm foyer. The warm scent of butter seemed to invite Hunter in.
“Something smells awesome.”
“Martina and her classmates are trying to recreate a full southern breakfast,” Grayson explained. “They’ve been cooking nonstop, so there’s plenty to go around.”
Hunter looked down the hall with wonder. Marconi grew more surreal by the second. What had he done to gain entry to this wonderful place?
“I gotta move in here.” He decided. “Put in a good word for me, okay?” He imagined the long walks to class. “No, nevermind. I don’t think my legs could take it. Walking to class would take forever and a day.”
Grayson looked up at the ceiling. “Speaking of forever...” He mumbled.
“Hm?”
He looked down at Hunter. “Are you immortal?”
“Pfft. Ha! I wish.” He adjusted his grip on the crutches. “I don’t think that’s a thing. I’m not a vampire you know.”
That prompted a serious inquiry. “Are vampires a thing?” Grayson asked. “I mean, since werewolves are a thing.”
Hunter looked disappointed. “Aw. Baby, no. The original myths had vampires that turned into wolves and other animals right? So if there were wolf-morphing blood suckers, they were probably just really creepy Lycanthropes.”
“Oh.” He sounded both elated and disappointed. “Wait, did you just call me Baby?”
“Moving on.” Hunter deflected, hobbling down the hall. “Breakfast awaits!”
Warm flaky biscuits cooled by the windowsill. Fried green tomatoes and homefries sat side by side in clear containers. There was a bowl of bacon and breakfast sausage, a pot of hot steaming grits, and plate of pancakes, and eggs scrambling on the stove.
Hunter recognized Martina joined by two chuckling young men in the kitchen attending to the pots and pans. The trio did not acknowledge Grayson or Hunter as they assembled their plates.
As he ladled the thin grits onto a bright blue plate, Hunter scrutinized them. Grits were a Sunday staple in his house, made thick and loaded with cheese--a tradition carried over from his mother’s family in Brooklyn. Realizing he wouldn't taste that cooking for a long time made his eyes water, and he excused himself from the kitchen with a half empty plate.
Grayson joined him in the common area where three other students were enjoying their free breakfast. TV tables had materialized from nowhere, but Hunter didn’t question it, pushing his sausage links around.
“Something bothering you?” Grayson asked, as Hunter’s melancholia returned.
“I guess I’m just homesick.” He replied, staring at the plate. “My Mom would make me this stuff all the time. But now I won’t see her until Christmas.”
“Oh.” Grayson replied, understanding. “The same thing happened when I had to do my laundry for the first time here. At home we let my Grandma do the shopping and she always buys the same detergent. They don’t use the same kind here, so when I washed my clothes it bothered me that the scent was so different. The little things matter more when you can’t have them, I suppose.”
“Yeah.” Hunter could feel his eyes watering again. He rubbed at them. “Oh man, I’m such a Devin Downer today. Pull it together Reeds, you know you can’t go back there.”
“Well, until the holidays right?” Grayson shrugged. “It’s already October, so it’s not so bad. You’ll be home in no time.”
“No.” Hunter stabbed a sausage link with his fork. “New York maybe, Brooklyn sure, but not my real home.”
“Why?” Grayson asked.
“I can’t go back.” He sighed in frustration and proceed to gobble down his breakfast. Grayson said nothing, but after Hunter wolfed down three more plates of food and they went up to his room, he pressed a little further.
“Why can’t you go home?” Grayson asked as they sat on his bed. His roommate as usual, was absent, leaving a bigger pile of clothes behind.