by Moxie North
Rainier
Rochon Bears
Moxie North
Last Page Publishing
Contents
About the Author
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
About the Author
Also by Moxie North
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Copyright ©2017 Moxie North
All Rights Reserved
Cover Design by Jacqueline Sweet
@MoxieNorthBooks
MoxieNorthBooks
www.moxienorth.net
Chapter 1
7:15am. To most people that isn’t an absurdly early time of the morning. The average worker bee would probably already be showered, sipping a cup of coffee, and checking the traffic report to see how long their commute was going to be. Wondering if they should leave now or take the time to warm up their car. Adult things, adult thoughts.
7:15am for a twenty-one-year old college student? It might as well have been 4am after an epic party involving an attempt to test the limits of YOLO.
Quinnlynn Sutter dragged her hand out from under the warm down comforter and swung her arm in the general direction of her phone. The alarm was a lyrical chime that someone at the cell phone company must have thought was soothing—it wasn’t.
“Gawd, where are you?” Talking to an inanimate object was probably the first sign of insanity, but her roommate was already pretty certifiable, so no one would notice.
Sharing a dorm room was one of those life experiences that was torture and at the same time vital for learning patience, acceptance, and how to resist the urge to commit grievous harm on another human being.
“Oh my goddess, turn that thing off!”
That voice was muffled and came from the lump under a pile of afghans on the other side of the room. Quinn opened one eye to look for her phone and saw the lump that contained her roommate Harmony, and probably her boyfriend, moving around on her bed.
“Got it, got it.” She found her phone and pulled it close to her face to see through her blurred vision. The snooze button was so tempting, but she had to get up. Her first class wasn’t until 10:30am, but she had promised to be at the SCAM before eight.
Quinn threw back the covers and shivered at the cold that had seeped into the room overnight. The thin window panes let in far too much of the damp Seattle weather. It didn’t help that the addition of constantly damp clothes to the warm environment created a unique rainforest effect.
With a groan she pulled herself from the bed and stumbled to her small closet. Finding a purple UW hoodie to cover the tank top she had been sleeping in, she pulled it on. It definitely didn’t match the black fuzzy PJ bottoms with squirrels on them. They were a score from the local Goodwill that still had the original store tags on them. Shuffling down the hall she pondered what kind of bribes it would take to get the committee to change the name of SCAM. Quinn wasn’t even sure who had shortened it originally. The Seattle Coalition for the Advancement of Mothers was, apparently, too long and too confusing. Among the students it became simply known as SCAM.
She couldn’t fault them really. Her generation were masters at finding the path of least resistance or better known as the easy way to go. They also lived in the city that named a new trolley service the South Lake Union Transit. Yep, SLUT. Of course, the t-shirts that said SLUT were highly coveted. There was no accounting for taste in the city that developed grunge. Having a group on campus called SCAM only raised eyebrows to those who were upset that it wasn’t a new indie band touring the local bars.
The name aside, the students in SCAM offered free babysitting services at odd hours so that low income or unemployed mothers could go on job interviews, and it was more than worth the hassle of getting up early and finding a chipper smile for kids who needed friendly faces.
This morning Dominique, a recovering drug addict who had lost her kids and then spent the last year and a half getting them back, was going on an interview at 8am. Dominique had worked so hard to get clean, and the interview was a golden opportunity for a job with regular hours, on the bus line, and it came with insurance. It was the holy grail of jobs in Seattle. This job could be the lynchpin in her keeping her kids and her sobriety. It was important, and Quinn wasn’t going to let her down.
Quinn knew how hard a mom had to work just to keep their kids fed and clothed. If a father was in the picture, sometimes it was easier. But in Quinn’s experience, fathers who stuck around were few and far between. Dominique had a chance to show her daughters that being a strong woman meant being brave, fighting hard, and believing in yourself, and your dreams. It was a chance at a new life.
Quinn finished up her morning routine, not bothering to shower since she was cold and getting wet sounded like a terrible idea and headed back to her room. She opened her door quietly and pressed it closed carefully. She found her clothes, a vintage Ivar’s Keep Clam t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and a pair of thick soled Doc Martens. Her skill at dressing in silence came from the desire to avoid any drama with Harmony. Quinn didn’t like mornings, but Harmony was downright homicidal anytime before ten.
Her mother had once said, “Never wake a sleeping bear,” and Quinn had thought that was a silly thing to say until she met Harmony.
Quinn grabbed her backpack and lifted it off the chair to make sure her books were in there. She had developed a rather handy skill at assessing what was in her bag by the sheer weight of it. Dressed and ready, she left the room as silently as she had entered; giving the doorknob an extra twist to make sure it was locked behind her. She headed down the long hallway, her eyes on the mustard-colored carpet. It was rare to pass anyone at this time of the morning and today was no exception.
On the bottom floor she took a fortifying breath before pushing open the double glass doors. The cold instantly wrapped around her head and made her wish she’d grabbed a hat.
She had a few spare minutes to grab a coffee from the cafeteria before rushing over to the empty classroom in the building that held the psychology classes. It was an oddly bright room, carpeted with padding halfway up the walls. The students liked to speculate why this room existed, but Quinn was just glad that it was clean and the Psychology department let them use it for the childcare. A few charities had donated toys and coloring books. There was a bright carpet on the floor that had a town with roads weaved into it. Give a kid a car and they would drive it for hours over those curvy roads.
This morning was easy. Dominique’s daughter Tatiana was all about princesses and anything that was pink and sparkly. That meant princess movies and cuddles. Quinn turned on the lights when she got to the classroom and clicked up the thermostat. In the corner was a huge TV, the older kind that weighed three hu
ndred pounds and took multiple people to carry. There was an old VCR and a small DVD player on a stand next to it.
Popping in Tatiana’s favorite movie, she sat down in a beanbag chair and sipped her coffee. It wasn’t good coffee, but it was strong. In Seattle you were allowed to be a coffee snob. It was encouraged and congratulated. College coffee was hit or miss. It depended on the barista and the level of enthusiasm they could muster in the mornings.
“I’m so nervous!”
Quinn looked up to see Dominique pushing through the door with her arms full of blankets, a sippy cup, a stuffed bunny, and a sleepy looking Tatiana.
Jumping up she ran to get the half awake little girl out of her mother’s arms. “You got this. You know you do. You have glowing references; you’re smart, and you’re at the top of your computer class. Be confident and sell your skills.”
Dominique raised her eyebrows. “A few classes compared to other candidate’s years of experience?”
“Experience isn’t the same as enthusiasm. You tell them how hard you’ll work and why. They will see that you have every reason to make a success of this job. And you know if you ever need me to babysit, I can help you out.”
“I know, I really do, and I know how lucky I am. I’m just worried that I’ve had too much help and the universe is ready to give me a smack down.”
“Nope, this universe helps those that help themselves. And those that are smart enough to accept help from others. You’re going to be a success, I’m sure of it.”
With a nervous laugh, Dominique gave Quinn a side hug. “Thanks, Quinn. I will fake it until I make it.”
“Go, get a job already,” she teased. “Ms. Tatiana and I are going to snuggle and watch Cinderella.”
“Cinderella?” The sleepy girl lifted her head from her shoulder and blinked.
“Yup, all ready to go!”
Quinn gave a nod to Dominique as a cue to slip out. Walking over to the beanbag chair she dropped into it and pushed the remote to start the movie then handed the girl her sippy cup. A few hours of Disney never hurt anybody.
Chapter 2
When you are known for being able to detail your life down to the minute, and have had your future planned from the time someone could ask you what you wanted to be when you grew up, missing something as big as a credit that allowed you to graduate, called into question how and why you had planned your life with so much detail.
“I don’t understand how this could have happened. I plan everything, I mean everything.” Rainier Rochon was leaning over the counter at the Registrar’s office pleading with the gray-haired woman behind the counter. He was really hoping he still had those puppy dog eyes his mom used to accuse him of breaking out when he was in trouble.
“I don’t know what to tell you, honey. But you missed a pass/fail credit during your freshman year. It’s not that uncommon to miss it. Incoming freshman are a bit distracted by the new experience. It’s overwhelming, nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I’m not ashamed, ma’am. I’m flabbergasted. I had my year planned out. I’m starting law school next year. I can’t be missing a credit.” He was trying his best “be confident and project your needs” technique to get her to help him out.
The woman made a tsking sound as she looked at her computer screen. “You’ll need one credit, it looks like you’ve got all your requirements covered, so you just need to take any class that gives you an elective credit.”
Rainier rubbed his hands over his face, ruffling his longish brown hair. He needed a haircut; he usually kept it short and neat. Another sign of his mind being somewhere else. He also needed to shave, his clothes were from yesterday, and he’d eaten cold pizza for lunch. He rarely acted his age, but the last week has been wearing on him. Apparently, being twenty-one meant there was no reason to ignore the stereotypical college frat boy persona. Although he wasn’t part of a frat. He’d been approached early on but he was part of a much bigger fraternity that didn’t need letters to name it. The last thing he needed were more people in his life he had to keep secrets from.
“What’s available on Wednesdays or Fridays? I’m free those days. I’ll take anything that doesn’t need prerequisites.”
“I’ve got EPI 220: Sexually Transmitted Infections: Causes and Consequences.”
Rain couldn’t hold back the horror in his voice. “Hard pass, what else?”
“There’s Russ 120: Food in Russia.”
“Borscht? No way. Please, anything else?”
“A History of Feminism is available on Wednesdays. But you’ll need to speak to the professor to get in.”
Rain wasn’t sure what the History of Feminism would even cover because he was woefully ignorant on the topic, but that might not help him get into the class so he needed to figure out a way to make it sound like it was his lifelong dream to attend that class.
“I can do that, who is he?”
“She is professor Burrell, and she doesn’t have class until three today so you may be able to catch her in her office.”
Rain looked at the woman with a chagrined smile. If he was going to get into this class he needed to start thinking like a woman, or at least not a typical male. He wasn’t typical by any means, but it didn’t mean he didn’t grow up surrounded by Alpha males. It gave you a number of preconceived notions that were hard to break. He loved women, all women, but that might not actually help him in this situation. His love probably was going to be perceived as misogynistic.
“Thank you, really, you saved my assz… butt.”
“Well, she hasn’t accepted you yet. If not, it’s borscht or boils,” the woman said with a laugh.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“Son, if you get in, you may end up wishing you were in Siberia.”
With that, the woman turned and walked away still laughing and shaking her head.
Rain pulled out his phone and logged into his student account as he walked. He ignored the texts from his mother, his older brother, his younger brother, and his friend Angel. He was never alone, even hours away from his hometown. Right now he had other fish to fry, like getting into the class. He could go into next summer confident in the next three years of his academic career.
Looking up Professor Burrell’s office, he headed out into the drizzling Seattle weather. He pulled up his hood and tucked his hands into the pockets of his black North Face jacket and put one foot in front of the other.
As he walked, he thought about the last three years. His first two had been more than just a little freshman shock like the woman in the office thought. Growing up in a tight-knit family wasn’t uncommon. Everyone was in your business; everyone had an opinion, and everyone loving you to the point of smothering you. Growing up in a clan of bear shifters meant that your family and clan was large and nosy. They only wanted the best for you, but having a moment alone was a hard thing to find there.
The first few weeks in his dorm at the University of Washington weren’t so bad. His family wanted him in an apartment or at least to have a private room, but that wasn’t what Rain wanted; he wanted to be just like any other college student, so he got a roommate. As they started attending classes and spending time with their own friends, Rain saw him less and less. Tony was a good guy, but they didn’t have much in common. In sophomore year he did end up taking a single room and that’s when it got really lonely. He missed his family. He missed the trees. Not that there weren’t plenty of trees in Seattle, but nothing compared to the rainforest of the Olympic Peninsula.
His bear was only able to shift and get out into the forest when he visited home, and those trips were only on the occasional weekends. For major family events and holidays he’d also make the trip out. His family treated each visit like he’d been away for years instead of weeks.
That love and acceptance were what he was missing when he was at school. Classrooms were getting bigger and most professors didn’t know your name. It was a desperate scramble to get an education. He was lucky,
his education was paid for. His family was in timber and had been for years. Shifters had much longer life spans than humans which meant there was time to build fortunes and acquire wealth.
His family, the Rochons, took care of their own. The kids had to earn their keep, but it didn’t mean they weren’t helped along the way. Rain and his cousins had lived a fun, indulgent life in the woods of the small town of Apex. Money was always there but never splashed around. They had all that they needed, but never more than they could truly use.
Stomping through the soggy grass in the square, Rain made his way into the building. Shaking off the rain, he looked down the row of doors, looking for Professor Burrell.
Stopping in front of a wood and glass door, he knocked firmly, but not loudly.
“Come in,” a voice rang out.
Rain turned the knob on the door and pushed it open. It was a modest sized office, furnished with a desk, chairs, and a table under the window that overlooked the commons outside. There were plants, an abundance of greenery around the edges of the room, stretching towards the dim daylight. There was also a couch, the pattern a bright yellow and white chevron that had throw pillows in a rainbow of colors. It stood out, looking inviting and bright in what could have been a gloomy dark room.
“Can I help you?”
Rainier pulled his attention from the couch and turned it to the woman behind the desk.
“Professor Burrell? I’m Rainier Rochon, uh, Rain. I’m here to see if you would accept me for your History of Feminism course. I know I haven’t taken any of your other courses, but I’m one elective credit short for my graduation requirements. I really need this class so I can start law school next year.”
The woman looked up from her desk. She had long hair, brown with a few strands of gray mixed in. It was braided to the side of her head and she was wearing a brown turtleneck shirt with a patterned blue and green shawl over her shoulders. Dangling from her ears were a pair of small bright stones wrapped in copper wire. She’d been on her computer but turned towards him when he came in. Now she was sitting with her hands folded on the table, like a silent judge.
