Secret Shifter

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Secret Shifter Page 17

by Louise Cypress


  I nodded.

  “Got it,” said Cassandra.

  As soon as we walked into the frat house, my eyes dilated, struggling to adjust to the dim light. At first, all I saw were blurry shapes of people huddled together, but soon I could see clearer. I was surrounded by people my age chatting, laughing, and sometimes hooking up. It seemed like everyone was enjoying themselves but me.

  “Come on.” Gretchen tugged my elbow and led me into another room. “Let’s go dance.”

  Dancing was the last thing I wanted to do, and I looked back at Cassandra for support. But she had a huge smile on her face and was already throwing her arms in the air in time to the music. “I love techno!” she shouted.

  It was so dark, I prayed that nobody could see my atrocious lack of dance moves. I swayed from side to side, added an occasional head nod, and tried to have fun.

  The girls and I stuck together for the first three songs, but then Gretchen heard someone speak German. “See you later,” she squealed, slinking off into the crowd in the direction of the exchange student.

  “Do you want to see if they have soda or something?” Cassandra fanned her face with her hand. “I’m roasting in this turtleneck.”

  “Sure,” I said, relieved to leave the dance floor. I followed Cassandra as she kneed and elbowed her way through the crowd and into the kitchen. The lights were on in there, and it was easier to see. Three kegs lined up in a row on the counter, and soda and ice crammed the kitchen sink.

  Cassandra helped herself to a Sprite and popped it open.

  “Want a mixer with that?” A tall guy wearing tight jeans and a T-shirt with Greek letters on it held up a bottle of vodka.

  “No thanks. I’m driving.” Cassandra took a swig of soda.

  “I know you’re driving,” said the frat guy. “You’re driving me wild with those long legs of yours.” His eyes grazed over her from head to toe and he whistled.

  Cassandra snickered. “That’s the worst pickup line I’ve ever heard.” She set her can on the counter. “Did you think that would work?”

  “Oh, I’ll work it, all right.” The guy wiggled his eyebrows. “Give me a chance, and you’ll see.” He rested his hand on the counter and leaned closer to Cassandra so that their hips were inches apart.

  I thought she might pop him in the nose—that was what I would have done if a total stranger had encroached on my personal space—but Cassandra must have seen things differently. “Wanna dance?” she asked him, an amused smile on her face.

  “Love to.” He slipped his arm around her waist and led her into the other room.

  “Don’t leave me!” I cried, but it was too late. Cassandra was already gone.

  “It’ll be okay. I don’t usually bite,” said a voice from the kitchen table. “If you come over here, you’ll be out of the way when they start doing keg stands.”

  “My friend wouldn’t do keg stands,” I said, spinning around. There was a guy with brown hair slicked over to one side sprawled on a chair staring at an open MacBook on the table. He had broad shoulders and a cute smile. There was a jar of peanut butter and a glass of milk next to him.

  “I don’t know anything about your friend,” he drawled, “but at 10 p.m. on the dot, all the pledges will come in here to do keg stands, and it’ll be a zoo.”

  I reached into my hip pouch for my phone and saw that it was still 9:40. I was safe from the stampede but had no place to go. Shoot. Why had I let Cassandra and Gretchen talk me into this? Before I knew what was happening, my eyes began to water. I wasn’t usually a crier, but abandonment was definitely a trigger.

  “Come sit down already.” The guy pulled out the chair next to him. “I’d offer you some peanut butter, but it’s contaminated.” He scooped a spoon into the jar and licked it off.

  “You’re not on drugs or something, are you?” The peanut butter smelled delicious, but I didn’t budge.

  “Why would you say that?” He plowed the spoon back into the Skippy.

  “Because I’ve never seen anyone eat straight peanut butter like that, except for—” I stopped myself just in time. I was about to mention that one foster parent I’d had who’d grown pot in his Aerogarden.

  “Except for what?” The guy raised his eyebrows.

  “Never mind.” I shrugged and looked back over my shoulder as a large herd of drunken frat brothers and their scantily-clad girlfriends charged into the kitchen and ravaged the alcohol like rhinos. The only way back out to the dance floor where my friends were was through the raucous gathering. Not that Gretchen and Cassandra were waiting for me, I reminded myself. They’d pretty much left me here to fend for myself.

  I wanted to wipe off all my makeup. I wanted to find a way out and run for the hills, even though this horrible bra I’d borrowed from Cassandra wouldn’t offer any support. I wanted to be anywhere but here. Even my dorm room at Tioga Hall, arguing with Lacey, would be better.

  “Are you okay?” Peanut Butter Guy asked. He looked at me with concern. “Did something happen to you? Did a guy bother you because I’ll—”

  “No,” I snapped. “I’m fine.” I sat down on the chair next to him and looked at his computer screen. A familiar image caught my eye. “Are you watching Desperate Dawn? My friends and I were going to see that movie tomorrow night.”

  “It’s a short film, not a movie.” He closed his MacBook. “But yeah, it’s my screensaver.”

  “I’ve never seen it before, but my friend Cassandra said that for a werewolf film, it’s pretty good.”

  “Faint praise is better than no praise, I guess.” The guy held out his hand. “I’m Rolf, nice to meet you.”

  I shook his hand and it was ten times warmer than mine, but not sweaty. “My name’s Kate.”

  “So, Kate, what brings you to Frat Row on a Thursday night? The hors d’oeuvres? The company? The scintillating conversation?” Rolf chuckled at his own joke.

  “My friends thought it would be fun.” When I found myself slouching, I rolled my shoulders back to sit up straight. “But this isn’t really my scene.”

  “I don’t mind frat parties so much, but I don’t know anyone here but Jake. He’s the tall guy with the cheesy pickup lines whom your friend’s dancing with.”

  “Oh. Why are you here then—and with your computer? Aren’t you worried that it’ll get stolen?”

  “I needed a place to crash on campus, and I’ve known Jake since high school.”

  “I take it you live off campus then?”

  Rolf nodded. “In LA. I graduated from USC this year and now I have a job at the CW.”

  “The CW?” My eyes lit up. I didn’t watch much TV, but even I was impressed by that. “Congratulations.”

  Rolf waved his hand in the air, brushing away the compliment. “All I do is grunt work right now, but it’s a foot in the door.”

  “Why are you here in La Jolla instead of Hollywood?” I asked, my journalistic curiosity kicking in. “Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”

  “It’s a long story.” Rolf leaned his elbow on the table and rested his head in his palm.

  “I’ve got time.” I looked back at the door to the dance room. There were loads of people surrounding the kegs, but I saw no sign of Gretchen or Cassandra.

  “Okay,” said Rolf, “but you’re going to think I’m nuts.”

  “I already think you’re strange.” I pointed at the peanut butter. “Add a loaf of bread and that could have made ten lunches.”

  “You’re funny,” Rolf said. But he didn’t laugh. “Okay, here goes, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “I’m listening.” I pressed my knees together and bounced my feet up and down underneath the table to warm myself up. I should have brought a hoodie.

  “Five years ago, I fell in love with a girl I never got the chance to meet.” Rolf took his elbow off the table and stared down at his hands. “I saw her on the beach one day, and it was love at first sight.”

  “Did you talk to her?”

  Rolf rubb
ed the back of his neck. “That’s another long story, so I’ll skip that part. Last week, a friend of mine saw the woman here on campus. Got a good description of her and everything. As soon as he told me, I drove down here to find her. But Robin—that’s my friend, Robin’s a total birdbrain—although he’s positive he saw her, he doesn’t know which way she went.”

  “Weird. You’re right, that is a bizarre story. How did Robin know what this woman looked like?”

  Rolf grimaced. “Because she had a distinct characteristic.”

  “Hunchback? Birthmark? Big boobs?”

  Rolf laughed for real this time. “No, nothing like that. But she was made for me, that’s for sure.”

  “Oh, please.” I shook my head dismissively. “Leave it to the guy from Hollywood to believe in ‘destiny.’” I lifted my fingers up and formed air quotes. “Maybe there’s such a thing as love at first sight, but no way are people made for each other.” I shook my head dismissively. “Happily-ever-after only happens in the movies.”

  “Oh, I definitely believe in happily-every-afters and soulmates.” Rolf pulled out his phone and tapped on the screen. “Here’s a picture of my grandma and grandpa. They were married for over fifty years.”

  I stared at the picture of the elderly man and woman, holding hands and beaming smiles at the camera. The man, who had a neatly-trimmed beard, wore a collared shirt and a bolo-tie. The woman had on a dress with cherries on the front, and a red leather belt cinched her waist. They stood in front of the lily pond in Balboa Park.

  “They look like a cute couple,” I said. “They were lucky to find each other.”

  “Luck had nothing to do with it.” Rolf turned off his phone and frowned. “It was destiny. Their names were written in the stars together.”

  “No wonder you live in la-la land.” I spun the silver bracelet around my wrist. “Hopefully, you can channel some of that wishful thinking into a romcom that makes tons of money at the box office, and that I’ll never see in a million years because I don’t like romantic comedies.”

  “Ouch. You’re harsh.” Rolf leaned back in his chair. “Who rained on your parade?”

  “Nobody.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Rolf cocked his head to the side and waved his hand around in the air. “There wasn’t a high school boyfriend who broke your heart?”

  “Nope.”

  “Did your parents fight a lot?”

  “No. Not that it would be any of your business if they did.”

  “I wasn’t trying to pry.” Rolf reached for the peanut butter again and scraped the spoon along the bottom. “I was just figuring out your character.”

  “My character is fine, thank you very much.” I scooted my chair back from the table a few inches, and the legs squeaked against the linoleum.

  “I wasn’t trying to offend you.” Rolf took a swig of milk. “You don’t have to be so prickly.”

  “I’m not prickly!”

  Rolf wrinkled his forehead. “Yeah, you are. I’ve told you all about myself and introduced you to my grandparents and everything, and you haven’t shared one detail with me, except that you hate frat parties and don’t believe in soulmates.”

  “I don’t have to share anything with you.” I took my phone out of the hip pouch and texted Cassandra and Gretchen. Want to go home right now, I said. I’m in the kitchen. Please come get me.

  “You’re right,” said Rolf. “You don’t owe me anything. I’m sorry I tried to make polite conversation.” He opened his computer again and typed in his password.

  Shoot. Now I felt rude. Although I was okay with being rude, I worried that I’d also been borderline bitchy, and that was a line I hadn’t meant to cross. “My mom was murdered,” I blurted out. “When I was fifteen. So excuse me if I don’t believe in happy endings.”

  Rolf jerked his head and looked straight at me. “My dad was murdered, right in front of me, when I was four years old.”

  “What?” Chills raced down my spine. I’d met other people whose families had been torn apart by violence, but that had been in foster care. It was weird to be sitting in a sticky frat house kitchen and hear someone say the word out loud: murdered. “How’d your father die?” I asked.

  “Carjacking gone wrong,” said Rolf. “You?”

  “Home invasion.” I folded my hands and put them on the table. “Some things you can’t unsee. You know?”

  Rolf’s jaw clenched. “I know. There are a lot of bad people in this world. But that doesn’t mean we have to give up on happy endings.” He turned the computer screen toward me so I could see.

  This time Rolf showed me a different picture. It was Rolf, a girl about his age, a little boy, and a man and a woman standing on the beach at a luau wearing Hawaiian shirts and leis. When I saw who the woman was, I gasped, but Rolf didn’t notice.

  “That’s my mom,” he said, pointing to Sergeant Byrd. She married my dad’s brother, and Uncle Gabriel is awesome. That’s my sister, Dory, and my little brother, Paul. We went to Maui this summer to celebrate my graduation.”

  “That looks like it was a fun trip.” I squeezed my hands together. “You’re really lucky.”

  “I don’t believe in luck.” Rolf clicked the trackpad and the picture disappeared. “I believe in hard work, perseverance, and having faith in something so strongly that it finally comes true.”

  “I believe in those things too, but they don’t guarantee a happily ever after.” Suddenly, a bullhorn went off in the other room, and it felt like the whole house had jumped. As if the kitchen weren’t crowded enough already, a fresh new wave of people stormed into the room.

  “Ah, shit.” Rolf powered off his computer and pulled it onto his lap. “It’s ten o’clock. Brace yourself. If this is anything like last night, it’s going to be crazy. We’ll have to talk about true love later when it’s not so noisy.”

  “There is no soulmate out there waiting for me,” I said, loud enough that Rolf could hear. “I’ve known for my whole life that I’m a lone wolf.”

  “What did you just say?” Rolf stared at me with a blank expression.

  “Bring out the pledges!” The tall guy who was Rolf’s friend held on to Cassandra’s hand and shouted. “Line them up!”

  I tried to catch Cassandra’s attention, but she was too busy chanting to see me. “Chug, chug, chug!” she cried between bouts of laugher. No wonder she hadn’t responded to my text. Cassandra was too busy having fun. But as I saw the freshmen bow down under the kegs I realized I was done with this scene, especially when the girl next to me splashed beer on my legs.

  “It was nice meeting you,” I said to Rolf as I stood up from my chair.

  “What?” He stood up too, guarding his computer in front of his chest.

  “Bye.” I waved and pushed through the crowd. When I reached Cassandra I spoke directly into her ear so she could hear me. “I’m taking an Uber home,” I said. “See you later.”

  “What? No, don’t,” Cassandra cried. “I’ll come with you.”

  “No. Stay. You deserve to have fun.” I slinked away before she could follow me.

  Once I made it safely outside into the fresh air and away from all the chaos, I felt better. I fished the tissue out of my hip pouch and wiped off my lipstick. Right when I was about to order an Uber, I remembered my dorm room. Maybe I should crash at Tioga Hall for the night. That would make it easy get to my interview with Sergeant Byrd in the morning without needing to rely on the city bus. I texted Cassandra and Gretchen one more time to let them know where I was going and took off on foot.

  “Wait!” called a voice behind me. “Where are you going?”

  I spun on my heel and saw Rolf, standing on the front porch of the frat house.

  “Back to my dorm.” Goosebumps prickled down my skin and I rubbed my arms to keep my teeth from chattering. “I have an early appointment tomorrow.”

  “Want me to drive you? All I drank was milk, I swear.” Standing up on the steps, Rolf appeared taller than he actua
lly was. When he’d stood up next to me in the kitchen, he’d been only a few inches taller than me. But right now, I had to crane my neck to look up at him.

  “Thanks for the offer.” I hugged my chest. “My dorm’s only a few blocks away, though. I’ll be fine.”

  “But there’s an attacker on the loose. My mom’s a police officer. She told me all about it.” Rolf jogged down the steps. “Let me walk you home at least.”

  I didn’t want to admit that Rolf had a point. But what good would Mr. Hollywood be if I was attacked by vampires? I was the one with the silver switchblade in my hip pouch, not him.

  “Please?” Rolf begged. “There are drunken frat guys everywhere.”

  “True,” I muttered. “Okay. Let’s walk fast. I’m cold.”

  “Do you want me to go back and grab you a coat?”

  “No thanks.” I took off at a quick pace, along a well-lighted path that would take us directly to Tioga Hall. I’d already revealed way more to Rolf than I’d intended, and now I clammed up tight. Hardly anyone knew about my mother’s murder and yet I’d just revealed that information to a perfect stranger.

  “What are you majoring in?” Rolf asked after a few awkward minutes of silence. There he went again, trying to pry information out of me.

  “Journalism.” I took a rubber band out of my pouch and pulled my hair into an impromptu ponytail. Without the lipstick and frou-frou hairstyle, I was starting to feel better. “You really don’t have to walk me home,” I said again. “If I start running now, I could be at my dorm in three minutes.”

  “I don’t mind walking—or running—with you, and we don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” Rolf shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m not trying to creep you out, I promise.”

  “You’re not creeping me out. I don’t get creeped out easily.” But as soon as I said it, I felt little hairs on the back of my neck stand up. A foul odor drifted across the air.

  “Do you smell that?” Rolf put his arm out to stop me. “Wait.” He stepped in front of me so that I faced his back. Rolf took a deep breath, and I heard him sniff the air.

 

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