Over the next couple of days, things go back to normal. At least as normal as they can be now. I’m not able to hide my appetite or my newfound desire for meat. I tell Mom it must be my hormones.The stutter is becoming difficult to hide, mostly because I don’t want it anymore. I’m finally free of the one thing that placed the wrong kind of spotlight on me and when I finally get the chance to be free of it, I have to fake it again.I just have to remind myself that it’s temporary.Alex and I meet Hailey and Lenard for a double date, and it’s like nothing has changed.Except Alex isn’t shy about public displays of affection, though I wonder how much of it is a put-on for shock value. It works.We meet at the diner down the street from the school. As soon as I walk in, I can smell grease and meat, and my stomach starts to rumble. “I have to hide my appetite at home so Mom doesn’t get suspicious,” I whisper to Alex, who can’t help but cackle.I nudge him in his rock-hard belly. “It’s not
The next day really is my birthday. Mom makes me a cake and we celebrate in the morning over coffee. Then we spend the day in Marona, a nearby hippie town with awesome shopping, and Mom splurges on a few new outfits for me to take to school.I’ve realized I’m grateful for every moment. When I was at the Ayzena base I was grateful for their hospitality, when I’m with Alex I’m grateful for his love and attention—not to mention his body! Now that I’m with Mom, I’m grateful I ended up with her. In spite of our hardships, I’ve realized she endured everything for my sake. There’s no greater love than that.And today is a great day. We share food and laughs in a way we’ve never been able to before. It makes me determined to help take care of her when I’m able, so we can spend more time like this when we’re together. Away from drama, having fun.Alex comes by later that day and brings me a present. He was sweet to give me the day alone with my mother, though it helps that I reminded him he’ll
I plan on visiting during my fall break. Mom thinks I have a trip for drama, so she’s not expecting me. I hate lying to her, but it really is for her own good.The following week leading up to our opening night is stressful. The play only runs for two weekends, but everything has to be perfect for the first show. I scramble to make last-minute changes to costumes and learn a few lines that just don’t seem to be sticking.Which is what makes opening night more stressful when Alex and Mom both show up with flowers. Talk about feeling loved…and feeling the pressure to perform!Alex plants a big kiss on me and Hailey, who plays another one of the teens, ooh’s and ah’s over us. So does Mom, and I’m starting to wonder which one of us she likes more.Alex and Mom sit with Lenard through the show. I peek out from the back curtain to find their seats, so I know not to look there. I can’t risk catching one of them smile at me and throwing me off. Tonight has to be perfect because I’ve worked so
Right before finals my freshman year, I receive the dreaded call. “It’s Michael,” Alex says. His breathing is loud, erratic. “He passed away last night.”Of course, there’s nothing I can do over the phone. I borrow Hailey’s car and leave that very night.When I get there, it is after dark and Alex is at Michael’s house, sitting in the kitchen with Rita. When I walk in, it’s quiet. They’re not talking or doing anything aside from staring at the table.They look up at me and I see their sorrow. I run over to Alex and wrap my arms around him, absorbing his sobs of mourning as I cry into his shoulder.I hear Rita sniffle, and I let go long enough to cross the table and give her a hug. “I’m so sorry!” I whisper into her ear. “I’m so sorry…”That night is when Alex and I take our physical relationship to another level. I wanted to make him feel better, if only for a little while.When we get back to his house, I follow him into his room and lock the door behind us. I don’t care if his paren
My senior year is a whirlwind. I’m in all advanced classes and spend a lot of time studying. When I graduate, I will have a Bachelor’s of Creative Arts and Writing. That was my Epiphone. Just because I’ll be required to love among and lead my pack, doesn’t mean I can’t still express my creativity.In fact, my senior project is the play I began writing as a 17-year-old human with intense complexes and assassins on her heals. The story follows my own, sometimes a little too closely, but it seems like the perfect way to blend my two lives together.Alex is supportive. So is my pack. When I approach the Council with the idea of working on the side as a freelance writer, they are supportive so long as the pack and our home remains anonymous. I tell them I will work under a pen name, and when I release my first play, Furry Butterfly, I do so under a pseudonym.It turns out to be a success, and the money I receive allows me to conquer my first project as Luna.That summer, I officially join
The house is a mess because I’ve been in town visiting my mom for a few days. I knew it would be, which is why I returned early in the morning, so I could clean up before I had to begin my day.Things aren’t exactly how I expected when I walk in. Yes, the house is a mess, but Alex is scrambling to clean up the kitchen. I drop my bag and look around at the array of clothes and shoes thrown around the living room.“Hey, babe… I really was going to have this cleaned up before you got home.”“I see that.”He smiles at me and I can’t help but forgive him. The problem is that he knows that, and someday that charm might run out. Except with my luck it won’t.“When are you leaving?”“I’m going to hang around a couple more days.”“That’ll be nice,” I say as I give him a hello kiss.We’ve been married for almost two years now, and even with our duties, I feel like we’re in our honeymoon stage. I’m every bit as in love with him now as I was when we first mated, and I wouldn’t change any part of
The backlit mirrors in Mier'Chelie's don’t flatter me at all. I look like a rat!Weeks of planning, and my cardigan sleeves seem a bit long. The headband I put on is doing nothing to tame my wavy hair. Are Chuck Taylor knockoffs okay for here?Still…maybe Oliver will notice the effort.Speaking of which, has he seen my text messages? It’s already 9:43. If we eat and leave on time, we can get to the New Year’s firework show…“Lookin 4ward to u gettin here”—30 minutes ago, unread.I scrunch my eyes tightly. I worked hard to learn how eyeliner works, so I don’t want to mess it up, but…“Keep it cool, Cynthia… Just…two more minutes.”I already have a text reminder alarm set. There’s no need to bombard him.It’s okay. Just two more minutes.When I start opening the bathroom door—“Don’t go!!”—I almost smack myself in the face with it.Who’d scream like that here of all places? I got my answer when I peeked out the door.Jessica Parthow. She looks absolutely stunning in her deep blue dress
I’m watching them in slow motion, absorbing every bit of information crawling into my brain. Old, rusty cogs finally crackled and started turning, a flickering light blinking on.Ah. This is why he didn’t answer my texts.Before either of them notice me, I stumble away from the door like the handle burned me. Nausea and heartburn crawl up my throat and scald it with acid.Being at this party is suddenly the worst idea I’ve ever had. So, I start wobbling toward the stairs, reeling.Oliver… He and I had been best friends for years. He knew more about me than most people, sometimes even more than my mom.And I told him…I told him I didn’t want to date him, even when he asked me. I wanted to keep my best friend and not lose him.But Oliver changed my mind. Said friendship would make our love stronger… What a joke.My eyes burn as I make my way down the stairs. With the new year here, the party’s now in full swing. If they were being rowdy before, they were chaos now—chaos that quickly swe