Page 26 of Shifted

"Where did you go for undergrad? I know Boston University for law school. What drew you there?" The love I held for that school was like no other, though it wasn’t a piece of cake. It was almost painful some days, especially during those dreaded finals.

"I went to Boston University as an undergrad as well. I had a full ride; it's an incredible school, and I loved it. The memories I hold and late nights with easy mac." I mused, "Oh, and ramen, how could I forget about the ramen!" He laughed lightly as we pulled into the parking lot of a small museum. The structure stood still as the lights inside remained dimmed due to its closed hours.

"I think they're closed?" He shrugged while exiting the car and grabbing the food. “So that's coming inside? If we can even get inside.” He handed me the bag and hurried forward as I followed behind.

"Just don't stick your greasy fingers on any paintings, and I think you'll be just fine.” He teased.

"I'm trusting you." He stared at me with a smile as he attempted to grab the bag from me, knowing I’d steal a fry early. It was his mistake for trusting me with the bag, and possibly mine to trust him as a whole.

We walked past the front entrance and made our way down an alley toward the back of the building. “Reed, what the hell are we doing?" We stopped at a black glass-stained window that was cracked open. "We have to crawl through,” he explained as I stared at it above us. I had no idea in hell how I was supposed to get up there, let alone shimmy through it, or even him.

"Are you insane? This is breaking and entering in a museum of all places! The place where people actually come to break in and enter for criminal reasons?" He stole the bag back from me and laughed.

"Are you afraid?" He poked fun at me, he had no idea what fear in me was.

"No, I'm up for a good challenge. I’d just like to avoid federal prison, you know? I mean, I come here sometimes with my daughter during operation hours." I turned back to the window, unsure, but sucked up my pride. "Alright, give me a boost." He smirked, boosting me as I climbed through the tiny window, and he handed me the food bag. I dropped to the floor, making a small tumble noise that wasn't too loud. We were in the back office. I was shocked that not a single alarm sounded at our entrance.

I heard the window shut, jolting me as he came through. He stood and said, “Shall we?" Offering out his arm, I nodded, clutching the food bag, and wrapped my arm around his. We then walked down a marble-floored hall that was filled with oil paintings.

"Show me your favorite," Reed whispered as we walked.

"Okay, this way." He guided me further into the desolate museum—every step we took echoed through the place. Then, I stopped in front of a dimly lit painting of a field of tulips from two hundred years ago, with a woman standing in the center of the field. "It just seemed so tranquil; the windmills weren't even there yet." He observed the painting as I looked around.

"This place was built in 1865, and it has millions of dollars-worth of beautiful art," he adds as I walk towards another wing, and he follows behind. There is a room of statues. "Are they watching us?" he teases in a whisper.

"I don't see Ben Stiller near us, so no." I sat on the bench across from a stone statue of a woman. She stood tall and courageous, like she was ready for battle and ready to win.

He handed me my sandwich and fries, saying, "Okay, watch this." He took a flashlight out of his pocket and flashed it to the ceiling. I stared up in awe as I saw it.

Hidden constellations were revealed, "Wow, it's like the universe, so many stars."

"I turned my flashlight on by accident once and discovered it. I wonder why they hide it." That meant he snuck in here a lot; I wonder how he’d never been caught. I leaned my head on his shoulder as our gaze remained fixed on the ceiling above.

"It's beautiful." He turned to me with a smile, looking like he was about to say something.

"Hey!" A flashlight that was not ours shined on us in the distance as a voice echoed.

"Shit." Before I could think, he took my hand and held it tightly as we began to run.

"Get back here!" the security guard yelled as we made a break for it. We were probably on all the cameras in the building.

We looked back at the tired old man chasing us, stared back at each other, and giggled. Then, I learned a flaw of Reed's. As we ran, I began dragging him. "Pick up the pace, bud!" He stared at me, impressed, and we sprinted back through the window, pushing ourselves out.

We ran to his car, quickly climbing in and driving away, "Was that rebellious enough for you?" I queried.

"What is this like an average Tuesday for you?" He questioned.

"Nah, on Tuesdays, I spend time doing strength and conditioning before I start practicing my knife-throwing skills." He laughed at my supposed nonsense if only he knew I was being serious.

I looked around for the bag of greasy, untouched food, "What is it?"

"We left our waffle fries there." I pout.

"Yeah, the security team will be feasting on them." My stomach gurgled in response to my hunger. "Stop, that's not funny, I'm so hungry." I could eat anything just about now, and my stomach was screaming at me.

"If you want, you can come over, and I'll cook you something." A small smile formed on my face from his offer. He could cook?

"You will?" He nods.

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