by Mia Wolf
“Raymond. Julia,” I greet the two of them with a slight bow of my head. Julia offers me a kind smile. Her hand is clutching Raymond’s arm.
“Found a mate yet?” Raymond says.
“Raymond.” Julia jerks his hand.
“What?” he asks her, feigning innocence.
I snicker at Raymond’s childish attempts to antagonize me, then walk up the street past them.
“Take care of him, Julia,” I say pushing my hands deeper into the pockets of my pants. “Don’t let him drink too much.”
I hear Raymond snort a laugh.
“Is that what you think a wife is for?” he retorts. “No wonder Mia —”
My ears perk up at the mention of Mia’s name out of Raymond’s foul mouth. Anger overtakes reason.
“You should shut up right about now,” I turn around and fire back, anger pulsing at my temples.
“Or what?” Raymond turns around to face me.
“C’mon now both you. Stop this.” Julia takes Raymond's hand and tries to push him away. He doesn’t budge.
I see the concern in Julia’s eyes, and it reminds me of Mia. I back away for both their sake. My blood is still boiling. I was not planning to think about Mia tonight. I will have to learn to live with the memories sooner or later. I know as much, but it is still impossibly hard. I back away from Raymond, my thoughts muffling with each step.
“Yeah, run like the coward you are,” Raymond taunts. I know his words are meant to sting, but they don’t. I do my best to drown them out. It comes fairly naturally.
“If she were here, do you think she —” Raymond begins.
“Stop pretending like you knew her. Or that you know me, for that matter. Just go. Julia, you might want to put a leash on your rabid dog,” I say. He doesn’t have the monopoly on taunting.
I hear the sound of fabric tearing apart and turn around reflexively at the sound. Raymond has turned into his bear form and is darting towards me on all fours. He growls in anger then pounces on me, slamming me onto the ground, his sharp canines inches away from my face. His claws scratch my arms, and I feel my own animal instincts rise to a fever pitch until I free myself from under him and shift.
For a moment, everything is stained red in anger. I’m all fangs, claws, and fur. I eye Raymond’s bear form and my temper flares. He raises his heavy form from where he had pinned me and parades towards me with heavy steps. I growl so loudly, I’m certain the entire village hears me down at the rotunda. The shrill in my roar makes the windows rumble throughout the village. My eyes go bloodshot, and I can slowly feel the loss of control until I’m all but animal instincts. I see Raymond’s bear eyes sizing me up from their corners. All I can think of is digging my claws into his flesh and ripping him to shreds. I growl once again as a sign of warning and spring at Raymond.
I’m in mid-air, getting ready to pounce at Raymond one second. The next, Julia steps between the two of us while still in her human form. Raymond sees me motion towards her. Without retaliating, he wraps his claws around her and spins, insanely fast, sheltering her from my incoming blow. My claws lacerate his back as they find their mark. He lets out a loud squeal of pain.
Realizing my mistake, I dislodge my talons from Raymond’s flesh. The wound bleeds instantly. He collapses to the ground, revealing a terrified Julia cradled safely in his arms. I meet her eyes as she looks up at me in horror, tears running down her cheeks. I want to mouth the word ‘sorry,’ but nothing escapes my bear mouth.
My anger turns into remorse. I hear footsteps approaching us. I sniffle, unable to control myself, but before the dam of emotions breaks I sprint into the alley to my left and out into the woods behind the village.
Chapter 5 – Jessica
My second interview gets canceled the same day I’m supposed to get the results for the first one. I get a bit disheartened when I receive the news of the cancelation. I’m almost out of the door, on my way to the interview, when I find out that the position has already been filled. I shrug it off. No point fussing about it.
Kristen has already left for work and told me she’ll be away till tomorrow. That means I’ll finally get some space to myself. I’m sure Kristen did this on purpose. Perhaps it was obvious that I could use some time by myself after all the things that have happened lately. As always, I’m left speechless by Kristen’s thoughtfulness.
I try not to feel too sad about the interview getting canceled and take this opportunity to make a “me day” out of the Friday that I know I would otherwise spend worrying about one thing or the other.
I soak in the tub for an hour listening to my favorite music and singing along with it. After I’m done, I put on comfy clothes and cozy up on the mattress I temporarily call my bed. I decide to watch something on Netflix. I put on a movie, but I’m distracted the entire time. I check my phone incessantly waiting for Vitality skin care’s HR to call. I also keep checking the dating app once in a while still trying to decide whether I should reply to the Joshua guy or not. I settle on not doing it. I’m going to need a little more initiative than a “hi,” I tell myself.
I’m halfway through Lion King when my phone buzzes. I get a mini panic attack, and my heart is pounding in my chest as I try to find my phone from the mess of sheets around me.
“Hello?” I answer. “Speaking,” I reply when a woman’s voice asks if it’s Jessica.
“This is regarding the interview you gave for the receptionist’s position.”
I respond with an affirmation. Her saccharin voice is almost too sweet to my ears. I try my best to stay calm as I wait for her to speak, but my palms are sweaty already. I clutch the sheets tightly to my chest feigning all kinds of control in my voice so the woman can’t tell that I’m exploding from nervous energy.
“Jessica, I’m sorry to inform you that unfortunately, the position has been filled. Thank you for showing your interest in working for us.”
The woman continues to say more politically correct things, but I drown out her words and respond with meek affirmations whenever she pauses. I don’t want to respond, but I do, anyway. I want to ask her how this could be. I thought I really had this. What went wrong? I can feel my insides twisting, my stomach turning. I hang on to the phone for dear life.
“I understand,” I say when the woman tells me they have kept my resume for their records in case they might need someone in the future. Blah blah blah is all I hear, really.
“Alright, Jessica. Thank you so much,” the woman finally says.
Before she can cut the call, I ask her, “Who got the job?” My words come out more bluntly and coldly than I intend.
The woman laughs. “If I'm very honest, Jessica, it’s the doctor’s niece. Something happened, and she needed a job urgently. And —”
“So no one who showed up for the interview?” I spit back.
“Well —”
I cut the call before she can make a sorry excuse. The phone drops from my hands. My grip on the sheets eases. It falls and pools in my lap. All my nervous energy has died down. I’m cold. Frozen. Suddenly, I feel the weight of last week collapse upon me. I sob once, twice then break into a full blown cry-out. I bury my head in my hands and weep. How is this fair? The words swirl in my head. The tears refuse to stop pouring down my face until I’m lying on the damp pillow, my cheek flat against its cold surface. Between my wailing, I feel my head bursting from all the dehydration.
After sniveling and sobbing for I don’t know how long, I finally get a grip on myself. I pick up my phone and scroll through my list of contacts wondering whom to call. I don’t want to be lonely right now. I see an unread text message from Kristen.
“Let me know when you know the results,” it says.
My heart snaps in two when I read the words. How am I supposed to look her in the eyes now? I push the text aside knowing I wouldn’t be able to talk to Kristen without breaking into tears again. A crushing sense of loneliness overtakes me. I’m a sobbing mess lying in a pool of white sheets on the matt
ress. Alone. Not a single name comes to mind. Do I have no one to talk to? No one to go to? No one in this whole wide world?
When the bout of crippling misery passes, I collect myself and pick up my phone again. I still can’t think of a single person I want to talk to. I wish my mother were here, is all I can think. But she isn’t. It’s been a while since I made my peace with that. It hurts from time to time, but I know I can’t dwell on it. I know she would’ve wanted to be by my side just as much as I want her to. I’ve shed enough tears for that loss.
Suddenly, I remember someone I could talk to. The idea is stupid, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I open the dating website. The sorry text from Joshua is still up on the screen. I try to ignore it and let my hair down.
“Joshua,” I type. I send the text not knowing what else to say. I would summon him if it were up to me.
When he doesn’t respond for thirty seconds, I realize my mistake. What if he doesn’t respond at all? I may not be ready for another rejection so soon.
To my delight, he responds.
“Jessica,” is all his message reads.
I stare at the letters and giggle. I wipe the drying tears from my cheeks.
“Aren’t you a man of few words.”
“Well, from our conversation so far, I could say the same about you,” he replies. “Minus the man part, of course.” He adds a wink emoji at the end.
I suddenly feel tempted to pretend to be a man, but his next text hits me hard.
“What’s up, Jessica? No plans this evening?”
I imagine him saying my name in his voice which I don’t even know the sound of. In my head, it sounds too real, too sincere, too confrontational to lie to. I could pretend to be a sorted human being and make up some excuse for not having any plans for the weekend, but I decide to go with brutal honesty instead. In any case, I want to see how he handles it.
“Would you believe me if I told you I don’t feel like myself, right now?” I type then stare at it for a second before finally sending it. What I don’t tell him is how I want to crawl out of my skin, that I feel a little suffocated in here. He doesn’t need to know that.
“I’ve been better,” I type again.
“What’s wrong?” he asks. I had almost thought he would completely ignore my tirade, but he seems genuinely – I pause to evaluate the response – concerned? It’s a mere text, I tell myself and shake my head. No need to get ahead of myself.
“What’s wrong?” I say to myself. What do I tell him?
I decide to share my unfiltered thoughts. “Could you not ask and still make me feel better? Too much to ask? Too soon?”
My heartbeat is like a bass drum in my chest. I’m not very comfortable with the situation I’m in. Being this vulnerable in front of a total stranger? Yet, I find myself desperately waiting for his answer. Then it comes.
“Okay. I won’t ask. But you’re gonna have to listen to me for this to work. Deal?”
“Deal,” I reply. I don’t understand what he’s planning, but I feel a weight lifted. Like I don’t have to be in this alone. A small part of me doesn’t care at all about what he says next because I already feel a little less lonely. I want to tell him that. That I feel better. But I don’t. I want to find out what’s on his mind after all.
“Jessica,” he says. My chest tightens as the page says ‘Joshua is typing...’. “Get up and wash your face.”
I blink at the screen. A simple instruction, but his words come as a warm hug. I didn’t know that was exactly what I needed until he told me so. The slightest hint of a smile appears on my face. For some reason, I try to stifle it as if afraid that he can see me. I leave the phone on my bed and obey his command.
A splash of fresh water on my face helps with my pounding headache. Crying is worse than drinking that way. There is no fun in the entire process. I look at my face in the mirror. Red eyes, flushed cheeks. I look how I feel. Lost and distraught.
I come back to my phone and find more messages from Joshua. “Did you?” says one. “I guess I’ll wait,” says another. Then a set of question marks and puzzled face emojis.
“I did. What’s next?” I ask like an obedient pupil, developing a smirk. Ready for round two. I’m so game for this.
“Now that you feel a bit refreshed on the outside, time to rehydrate that brain from the inside.” Fair point, I realize. “Go ahead and drink some water,” comes the next command. A memory of my first date with Derek creeps up in my head. I had drunk a questionable amount of water on the date and then needed to use the washroom a bit more than I would have liked for a first date. I remember how Derek had found it amusing and noted I must really like water. It’s a stupid memory, but it’s crystal clear in my head.
I snap out of it and follow Joshua’s orders. I promptly report back after managing to gulp down some water.
“I was parched, thanks,” I respond, trying to keep my memories of Derek at bay. Surprisingly, most of the memories I have of him are of feeling his acute absence in the times I needed him the most.
My phone vibrates in my hand. “Have you eaten?”
Joshua’s relentless concern warms my heart. I realize how alien that feeling is for me. Someone caring just because. Not for any ulterior motives. The feeling that someone cares without me having to bleed myself dry reminds me of my mother. In a warm and fuzzy way. I feel it bubble in my chest. Every time I think that Joshua can just as easily not do any of this, I feel a little better about him doing it anyway.
“I don’t feel like eating,” I reply honestly.
The screen reads ‘Joshua is typing…’ again. “I’m sure you don’t feel like eating. But you said you would listen to me. You should eat something. I promise it’ll help. It’s the times when you don’t feel like eating that you need it the most. Now be a good girl and grab a bite.” I bite my lip involuntarily when I read the words ‘be a good girl’. My pervert brain imagines Joshua saying it in a deep and sultry voice. No wonder they say imagination can be powerful. I don’t even know what the man sounds like and here I am concocting all kinds of stories in my head. I have to re-read his text to understand what he had said. I got distracted.
I sigh and pout. I really don’t want to eat. I fight the impulse to complain further and oblige instead.
I begrudgingly rummage the refrigerator for something to eat. I heat the ‘Aglio e Olio’ pasta from yesterday and devour it realizing I actually was quite hungry. With every bite, I feel like a notorious child being disciplined. Well played, Joshua.
We make small talk as I slurp down the spaghetti. I also check Joshua’s profile photos. My breath hitches when I see him for the first time. He looks mesmerizing. A disheveled mess of brown hair, brown eyes, and a sharp jawline. I find it difficult to place his warmth against his good-looking face. He looks like a classic bad boy.
“Done eating?” His text disrupts my daydreaming.
“Mhm,” I respond quickly to get back to checking out more of his pictures.
“Jessica.” My phone stirs in my hands, but I’m too busy to pay attention.
“What are you doing?” he asks again. I’m forced to stop looking at his pictures and talk to him.
“Nothing much,” I reply. Ogling your gorgeous face is what I don’t tell him.
“So now tell me honestly,” the next text reads, and it makes me bite my lip again. I have been nothing but honest with this man, and he seems to want more of it. That’s rare. He’s still sincerely trying to make me feel better, also rare.
“Would sleeping be the best course of action for you right now?” His words are polite, caring. But as I take in the sentiment, I immediately scoff.
“I’m not going to sleep,” I type quickly in defiance and hit send. “Not happening,” I add for good measure. I finish the last of my meal and put the dishes in the sink waiting for Joshua to finish typing.
“Jessica, you said you would listen to me.”
He doesn’t relent, but I am done following orders. B
esides, I feel a little annoyed at his request. Is he serious? Doesn’t he want to keep talking? Am I the only one enjoying this a little too unhealthily?
“You know what they say, promises are meant to be broken,” I text back with a wink emoji. I feel like a child throwing a tantrum. I send a few more emojis that all have a consistent theme of denial. I grin like a rebellious teenager feeling vindictive when he sends me a facepalm emoji in return.
For a moment, I think I have won until the next message from Joshua appears on my phone screen.
“Let’s sleep, Jessica.” The words stop every single noise in my head. All of my complaints die in my throat. My heart skips a beat or several as I re-read the text. I blink a few times to check if I had read the words right. Sure enough, they’re there.
“I should also call it a day,” he adds, but I’m too focused on his last words.
Let’s sleep. It sounds so intimate, I’m at a complete loss of words. At a complete loss of excuses. I can feel the heat in my cheeks. I’m flushed. I fan my face and place a hand on my chest to regulate my breathing. This boy is lethal.
“You’re good,” I text back without explaining what I mean. “Fine, let’s sleep,” I type and let him have this one.
Chapter 6 – Joshua
I go far into the woods. I growl and sniffle at the same time. Torn between the animal and the human inside me. I trudge up the forest hurtling with heavy footsteps. They dig into the ground, leaving a trail. The branches grazing my skin barely concern me in my bear form, but I know they will leave bleeding wounds on my skin. None of it compares to the ache in my chest. I don’t completely understand what I’m feeling, but it hurts. It’s a dizzying agony, and I can feel myself disappearing in it.
I run until my muscles are screaming and my body is rattling in pain. I stop at a clearing, panting out of breath. A roar rises in the pit of my stomach. The physical pain and the emotional hurt are fusing together and churning in my gut, ready to explode. They find their release unimpeded. The scream clamors through the woods. Birds fly away from nearby trees from the thunderclap. Several smaller animals also make a run for it. I hear the ringing echo of the cry long after I stop screaming. My tired eyes fall to the ground, eyelids getting heavy. When I can find no reason to remain standing, I collapse on the forest floor with a thud.
