by Abra Ebner
She turned away from him impudently.
“Are you sure she’s not human?”
Wes laughed. “I’m sure.” He watched Stella sulk for a moment, and when she wasn’t looking, he took my hand. “So much for starting over, I guess,” he teased, lacing his fingers with mine.
I squeezed his hand. “We’re still starting over, just… in our own way, I guess.”
Jane:
I still hadn’t seen or heard from Max all day, and I was beginning to worry that what I said had finally pushed Max away from me. I walked out to the lot, hoping I could catch a ride with Wes and Emily. I saw Wes’s car and began to make my way across the lot. Reaching it, I caught a glimpse of something I never wanted to.
I turned away, my mouth agape. “O.M.G.,” I murmured.
Quickly walking away from the car and back toward the curb, I tried to think of a way to wash my mind of what I’d seen, and find another ride. The bus had already left, and most of the students didn’t like me—they only liked Max. Though I’m sure they’d still agree to give me a ride out of pure association, I’d feel awkward asking. A part of me knew they wondered why Max was with me and not someone that was better suited in the looks department, like Liz.
The small crane was tucked into the front pocket of my jeans, my hand grazing against it as I pulled out my cell. My shoulders sank, watching as the crane fell to the ground. I knelt and picked it up, giving it a kiss before turning my attention back to the phone. I would call my mother in a last ditch effort, though she was still working and wouldn’t be able to get here for another thirty minutes. Maybe by then Wes and Emily would be finished doing… whatever.
I began to punch the keys.
“Well, hey!”
There was a voice from across the lot, but I didn’t figure it was meant for me. There were still a few students lingering at their cars. I kept punching keys, my head bowed.
“Hey, Jane, isn’t it?”
The voice was closer now. I sighed and stopped, not in the mood to be bothered but not seeing any way out of it. I slowly glanced up. At first I was confused, then surprised. The girl from the Corner Café in Winter Wood was briskly approaching, a stack of official looking papers in her slender hand. Her curls bounced behind her, her mouth fixed into a warm smile.
What was she doing here?
“Hey,” she said again, reaching me. Her voice was perfect, not a hint of breathiness after her trek to reach me.
“Hi,” I tilted my head, conveying surprise. “What are you doing here?” My phone was left ringing in my hand. I hung up.
Navia shrugged, making it look graceful. “I wanted to see what it was like.” My eyes grazed over her, noticing her more civilian looking attire, though it did little to detract from her ethereal beauty. It looked as though she’d had her makeup professionally applied, but as I stared, I began to see it was just her natural beauty, no makeup needed—of course.
“It? You mean school?”
She nodded with wide eyes. “It’s fascinating.” She lifted the stack of papers to eye level. “I just applied.” She was pointing to her signature at the bottom of the page. It was large and flagrant, embellished with a number of swirls and symbols. I wondered what Debbie in administration thought of it.
I laughed as she dropped the papers back to her side. “There’s nothing fascinating about school,” I warned. I began to wonder what it was Navia and Jake saw in this, and what they put down under ‘race’ on the school records. I guess when it wasn’t something they had to do, it became something they wanted to do.
“Will you be my friend?” Navia hooked her arm with mine, guiding me to sit on the nearby ledge.
Her cinnamon scent wafted over me, making me think of sticky buns. “I… uh…” I should be happy about this, but the overwhelming feelings of sadness that were facing me after last nights fight with Max subdued my excitement. I tried to smile as best I could. “Sure.”
Navia frowned. “Are you okay?”
I cursed myself for letting my emotions show. She probably thought I was weak. “Yeah. I’m fine,” I urged.
Navia tilted her head, looking at me the way my mother did when she knew I was lying. “Come on, you can tell me. We’re friends now, right?” She gave me a gentle nudge, crossing her ankles elegantly.
A real smile graced my lips. It felt good to have someone bug me the way she was. Typically people left it alone when sometimes I needed someone to talk to. This simple act from her made me feel important. I shrugged, tilting my head to my shoulder. “It’s just a guy.”
She dramatically swayed beside me, taking me along for the ride. After her long swoon she giggled. “A boy, huh? Well, I’m an expert in that department.”
I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
She looked content to see me react this way. “I’m a pixie, remember?” she whispered. “We love our boys.”
I kept laughing, finding her charm endearing. I could see how she could easily destroy the hearts of every boy in this school. “That’s what I’ve heard—about pixie’s, that is.”
She nodded gravely. “Afraid there’s nothing we can do about it. Our reputations precede us.” She threw her hands in the air. “Need a ride?” She looked toward Wes’s car with a brow raised and her mouth slanted. “So uncivilized. Like animals.”
I laughed. “You could say that again. I do need a ride, but I don’t want to impose.”
Navia yanked me to my feet and pulled me across the lot so fast that the words were still lingering on my lips.
“Well, good thing I’m here.” She ushered me up to a cream colored Tahoe—pearly cream, of course.
She got the door for me, releasing her arm from mine. I hopped up into the passenger seat and buckled in. The interior was also cream, and smelled like a bakery in the morning. Tiny flecks of glitter floated through the air. By simply entering the car, I had literally entered another world. Staring out at the world I had just occupied, it paled in comparison.
The lingering students stared, finding us the most entertaining thing they’d likely seen all day. Clearly, they were unaware of what was going on inside Wes’s car. Navia sauntered around the hood, teasing them. I felt my cheeks flush from the attention, but Navia seemed to enjoy it—or rather expect it. Boys were drooling, even boys whose girlfriends were grappling their arms—shameless!
“You’re going to have to indulge me with every detail of this little boy problem you’re having.” She got in on her side and leaned toward me, acting as though we’d been life-long best friends.
“Umm…” I wasn’t one to discuss my personal life, especially with someone I’d just met.
Navia didn’t bother to pay any mind to our onlookers. She was too cool for them, but not me.
“Come on. It’s a long drive to Winter Wood,” she added. I knew she wasn’t going to let me be demure.
I smiled and took a deep breath. “Well, then I guess it goes like this…”
Wes:
A tapping noise woke me from my sleep. My eyelids were heavy as I forced them open. I turned over, my body lethargic and my mind wondering if I’d really heard the noise or not. Dim grey morning moonlight streamed through the blinds, shining stripes across my bedspread. Monday had already arrived. Emily had not stayed the night, too frazzled by what had happened on Friday to stay any night this weekend. I blamed it on the fact that she was afraid to put herself in range of another Friday car adventure. I heard the tapping for a second time, the shadowed stripes beginning to move.
I sat up, stretching my feet and sliding out of bed. I walked to the window, the tapping so soft, that it didn’t post any alarm. I pulled the blinds, seeing Stella perched on the tiny ledge outside.
I cracked the lock and opened the window an inch so she could hear me. “Really, Stella, when are you going to get over this?”
She tilted her head as though she understood, though I was certain she didn’t.
“Do you know what you made me miss on Friday? Do you ha
ve any idea how long I’ve been waiting for her to be ready for that?” I placed my palm against the window. Stella leaned alongside it, her feathers smashed against the glass and fanning out in an array of brown and white colors. “Clearly you don’t.” I smiled and clicked my tongue, thinking that if she were a cat, she’d be purring.
At least she cared enough to be here with me right now. At least she wasn’t playing hard to get. I heard a snap then. Stella jumped and leaned away. She twisted her head skyward, her eyes wide and her pupils opening to the moonlight.
I pressed my brows together, trying to look where she was but inhibited by the glass. Stella chortled, bustling her feet on the sill. The moonlight shifted, casting a shadow on Emily’s house across the alley, a swift shadow that flew across the siding and landed on the roof. From there, the shadow fluttered and moved again, growing as it descended downward. The look in Stella’s eyes became ever more anxious, but it wasn’t a fearful anxiety.
I stepped back as the shadow breached the sill, and as though it were a shadow itself, another, dark auburn owl, landed gracefully beside Stella. I hid there in the darkness of my room, not wanting this new creature to see me. I wanted to know what it was first, if anything at all.
Stella nipped at it, chortling loudly. The second owl simply leaned away from her, almost expecting her crude advance. Staring Stella down, this new owl seemed to have control over her in a way that looked like ownership. Stella cowered as the owl at last lashed out against Stella’s rude hello, nipping her neck and nearly drawing blood.
Impulsively, I left the safety of the shadows and tapped on the window. “Hey! Leave her alone.” If there was one thing I hated, it was those that preyed on the weak.
The new owl jumped, startled by my sudden appearance. It had surprised eyes, and not eyes like Stella’s, but human eyes. We both stood guardedly for a moment, staring, judging.
“Who are you?” I demanded.
The owl blinked a few times, and then looked at Stella. Stella was combing her feathers with her beak, no longer trying to battle for hierarchy, or caring. Did Stella really know this owl?
Having opened the window enough to talk with Stella before, I reached forward and slammed the window shut for good measure, making sure to lock it. Stella stopped grooming, looking angered by my action. The other owl tapped the window then, abruptly—almost frantic.
I shook my head. “No way am I letting you in,” I whispered.
The owl stopped tapping, looking back at Stella. Stella chortled and nipped, but seemed to give into whatever the new owl was telling it. Stella then turned and tapped the window with as much fervor as the other owl had, as though her persuasion could sway me. I shook my head, balling my fists at my sides.
“I said no.”
Stella only tapped louder, and I began to worry that she’d wake Gladys. I elevated my hands toward the window, palms open. Stella stopped. “Shhhh…” I then brought one finger to my lips.
They both challenged me with a final tap.
My shoulders sank in defeat. Reluctantly, I unlocked the clasp and slid the window open, but only a few inches. “I’m warning you. I can kill you in a second.”
Both owls simply stared.
I thrust the window open all the way. Stella hopped in and onto the floor, nuzzling against my leg before continuing past me. I wanted to laugh, but my attention was far too preoccupied by the auburn owl that remained on the ledge. It waited there, its head and body frozen.
“Come in?” I ventured.
The owl understood, finally dropping from the ledge and into the room. I shut the window behind it, my gaze fixed on its back, readying myself to change into the lion if need be. Walking toward my desk, I quelled a shiver as the cold air from outside invaded the warmth of the room. Grabbing a sweatshirt off the chair, I sat down in its place.
The new owl turned, looking me up and down—continuously drinking me in. My gaze was speculative, every fiber of my body readied for whatever might come. Dull tinkering noises materialized from the corner of the room where Stella was tugging at my belongings. In my periferal gaze, she took a few and began carrying them onto the bed, clumsily traipsing them across the crumpled comforter until she found a suitable place to nest. All the while the other owl and I intently locked direct gazes. Stella then smelled the pillow beside her, the one Emily used when she stayed with me. Her feathers fluffed and she cooed angrily.
I wanted to laugh but I waited instead, hoping the auburn owl would make the first move. Another five minutes passed and I grew impatient, Stella now wrapped in her nest and resting. Finally caving, I made the first move.
“Who are you? What do you want?” I demanded.
I’d never met another shifter, but the human glimmer in this owl’s golden eyes was unmistakable. Stella’s eyes were flecked with wild color where these ones were smooth like mine. I sighed and slouched down, and as I did so, the owl finally broke and hopped toward the bed.
I perked up again, a renewed sense of interest toward what the owl was doing. My hand gripped the edge of the chair, biting my lip against the desire to attack. The owl sank its head under the edge of the comforter, its body changing in one fluid motion and filling the draped fabric until a head of auburn, human hair peeked out the other end.
Though I saw it coming, surprise still swept through me. I was now looking at a girl no older than Emily. Her body was completely wrapped in my blankets, her nimble hands squeezing it tightly around her. Her sudden scent was undoubtedly wild, but not at all threatening. She was plain, her eyes sharp and round, much as the owl’s had been. Various shades of auburn streaked her hair, matching the feathers she once had.
Her expression was shock. “Holy cow,” she murmured, turning to Stella. “Missy, you were right. I just…” her voice trailed, a small hand surfacing from the blanket and covering her mouth. Her nails were dirty, her hands scarred and pale.
“Missy?” I snorted. “Her name is Stella.”
The girl didn’t seem to care, too taken by me. “I thought you…”
I tilted my head, confused. “Thought what?”
“You’re supposed to be dead.” She was nodding, eyes wide.
I cocked my head back, face crinkled.“Dead?” I elevated my hands. “Clearly I’m not dead.” Palms sweating, I stood, trying to establish my hierarchy. “Who are you?” I demanded a second time.
She cleared her throat, grinning. “Who am I?” She seemed surprised by my question. “You don’t know?” She turned her head from side to side.
“No.” I stated plainly.
Her expression turned to disappointment. She sighed. “They must not have told you.” Her lips pressed together. “Figures.”
“Who?” I thought of the only people I even knew. “Gladys? Max?”
“Gladys.” She nodded and sighed long and hard. “Well, I guess I could see why. She probably figured I was dead as well.”
I was growing impatient, her answers giving me little information. “Okay, seriously, girl. Who are you? I don’t think my girlfriend will like the fact I have a naked girl curled into my sheets.”
The girl laughed with a disgusted look on her face.
I pressed the point again. “Seriously. I already feel guilty about it, so make this quick.”
She continued to laugh mockingly.
“Stop!” I hissed.
She calmed herself. “You’ve got it all wrong, Cowboy. I’m not all too excited to be wrapped in your sheets, either.” Her eyes rolled. “So don’t flatter yourself.” She snorted.
I was pacing now.
She leaned back. “It’s not like I have any other choice.” She motioned around the room, pointing out the piles of clothing both clean and dirty. “It was either the comforter, which I can only hope Gladys cleans regularly, or the clothes, which I think you likely never clean—you’re a boy.”
I felt my anger build. “Okay… so? And you are?” I forced through clenched teeth. She was getting sidetracked, and it was botheri
ng me.
She rolled her eyes and let out a long, dramatic sigh. “I’m your sister, idiot.” Her tone was cheeky, as though I should have known this, as though it were common knowledge.
I tried to pretend I hadn’t heard what she said as I reeled backward. “Wait, what?”
“Your sister. Blood relative… Mom and Dad’s other kid… what other way can I put it?” She pulled my comforter up to her chin, looking scared by the look of shock on my face.
“Sister?” I gaped at this auburn-haired stranger lumped up on my bed. Her dislike toward the fact she was naked in my sheets now made sense. It was a little disturbing in retrospect.
“Little sister,” she corrected. “Lacy.”
“Little sister?” I repeated, trying to let it sink in. “How?”
She shook her head. “Do I really have to get into the details of the birds and bees with you?”
Discomfort replaced my confusion. “What? No… That’s not what I meant.” I frowned.
Her smart-alecky attitude seemed appeased by my reaction. “Mom and dad had me a few years after you. By then they’d found a safe place to live, so they kept me,” she said sheepishly. “I know they wanted to come back for you, but by the time it came time to do so, you had already adapted to this life. They were afraid it would upset you.” She bit her lip in thought. “Truthfully, I suppose they figured you’d be safe here. Trust me…” She looked around the room, looking impressed despite the mess. “You’ve got it a lot better than I ever did.”
I was plainly staring at her, the things she was saying like a dream—a bad dream.
She went on. “I honestly thought you were dead. I figured you’d learn about the fires and come looking for me, but you never did. Put two and two together… finito.”
What Max had told me about my parents death rushed back to me, but the details were clouded by the simple fact that I hadn’t really wanted to listen. “What fires, exactly?”
She rolled her eyes. “So you didn’t even know about the fires?” Her brows were pressed together, voice deep. “Gladys is stubborn. I’ll give her that.”
