by Molly Snow
“But you two are together right now.”
“That’s not the point. I didn’t even know Caleb and I would get together. But this is a date. Flirting is basically mandatory.”
“I didn’t flirt with Gordon.”
“Well, that’s different.”
“Yeah… He still kissed me, though.”
“He what?!” Kit leaned against the sink’s countertop in surprise.
“He did. He kissed me.”
“Wow. That’s, like, making me feel speechless right now.”
“Which is a miracle, right?”
Kit returned with a dry washcloth, smacking Stella upside the head.
“I’m just sayin’…” Stella smiled.
“You’re forgiven.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
“But you guys really kissed?”
“It was more like I was caught off guard.”
“Gordon.” Kit sighed, and got busy sorting some eye shadows. “I hope he feels a lot better soon.”
“Yeah…”
“So, back to Damien. If you want to open up to him about Billy, and you want him to open up to you about being a werewolf, then you definitely need to flirt.”
“Well, since you’re giving me permission, I guess I better go all out. Where’s the yellow string bikini?”
Another whap to Stella’s head with the washcloth. “Hush.”
Stella ripped the thing out of Kit’s hand and playfully got her friend back. It was like that whap brought a sudden realization to Kit. She quickly sifted fingers through her short hair and said, “Caleb and I need to know what this Billy creep looks like. There’s going to be tons of people there tonight, and we have to have your back.”
“I didn’t keep any pictures of him. I wanted to completely forget about him when I came here.”
“Does he have a Facebook?”
“Billy?”
“Yeah.”
“Now that I know what I know about him, that would be so weird.”
“Everyone’s on Facebook, Stella. It’s how we got the four-one-one on Damien, remember? Even my uncle Harold has a profile—along with each of his cats.”
“Weird.”
“Yeah.”
“How many cats?”
“Thirteen.”
“Whoa.”
“I know. Totally. And he knits them each their own Christmas sweater.”
“Remind me to never meet this uncle of yours.”
“Why? You afraid he’ll make you a sweater?” Kit giggled.
“Cat ladies are strange enough.”
Kit pulled her cell out of her jeans’ pocket, and got right to bringing up the app. “What’s Billy’s full name?”
“Billy Butt. I mean Butte. No, never mind—it’s probably under Esquire.”
That earned a glare. “Multiple Personality Disorder?” Kit asked.
“He hates his real name.”
“Alright, there’s quite a few profiles pulling up.” Kit turned the screen to Stella. “Do you see him in the lineup?”
Oh yeah, there he was alright. And looking as conceited as ever. “This one.” Stella pointed.
Kit scrunched her nose. “For real? He’s doing one of those shirtless poses in front of the bathroom mirror, where the toilet’s right there in the background?”
“What can I say? He thinks he’s all that.”
“Apparently. But… he is pretty cute.” Kit studied the picture from all angles. “I can see how you could get zombie-tranced. Oh, look, he says he’s married, and to you.”
THIRTY-FOUR
The sun looked as if it dipped into the ocean and colored its ripples pink. Stella anxiously stood in front of a large makeshift stage, set up on the warm sand. Not bad weather for Oregon, especially during fall. Her heart beat hard, waiting for the concert to start, and her eyes swept through the forming crowd multiple times, searching for Damien. Where was he?
Some roadies came out, setting up the drums and microphones. The curtain concealing backstage moved slightly, and Kit screamed out, “I think I saw Rock!”
“Where?” Stella’s eyes zoomed right in, searching, but it was too late. “Hey, I thought you don’t care about The Deathheads,” she teased.
“Okay, I admit I’m excited.” Kit playfully elbowed her. “With the way you’ve talked them up to me for the longest time, can you blame me?”
“I wish it was me who saw him.”
“You’ll get your fill at the meet and greet afterward.”
Caleb made the cheesiest face possible, and said through Cheshire-cat-clenched teeth, “I’m excited, too. Can you tell?” He then screamed out, raising jazz hands like a total fangirl.
“You’re such a dork,” Kit said and Stella agreed.
Caleb reached up and screamed again. “Woooo!”
Stella and Kit copied him, caught up in the moment.
“Start it with me,” Caleb said, and chanted, “Deathheads! Deathheads! Deathheads!”
That got the rest of the crowd chanting. “Deathheads! Deathheads! Deathheads!” In the middle of the excitement, still chanting, Stella swept her eyes across the crowd again in search of her date. Instead, she caught sight of the back of a guy with light curly hair. Billy? Instantly, she stopped chanting, and the rest of the voices slowed and faded into the background. The guy turned to talk to someone, and she sighed. It wasn’t her zombie ex.
Where was Damien, though? The thought nagged at her as she ran her fingers through her long locks, the ends in ringlets for the occasion. It may have been a while ago she lived in Idaho, but she didn’t forget the more playful, girly way she used to dress. Damien couldn’t be the only hottie tonight. He wouldn’t think of her as just Stella, the quirky PAA president he nearly kissed; the one with a loony ex-boyfriend. No, tonight he’d think of her as the hot girl. She’d make certain of it… if he’d ever show up.
*
The scent of the fresh ocean breeze and fizzy beer filled Damien’s senses. It was perfect. And the energy the massive audience gave off felt contagious. The opening band was also really good, but his attention quickly focused on finding Stella. Taller than many there, he could easily look out across the sea of people moving together like one giant being. Then, there she was. Way up ahead, at the very front row. He was pretty certain. She had long full hair, now a dark brown color, and slender arms shooting to the sky.
It would take some miracle like Moses with a staff to open a path to her, and he rolled his eyes back. He should have known, since The Deathheads were her favorite band in the whole world. He rubbed at his neck, frustrated he didn’t think to leave extra early.
What more, when he turned to say something, his dad was gone. Did he get swept away in the throng by accident? He peered around, searching. Then someone tapped on his shoulder, and a deep voice said, “Damien Capernalli?”
Damien turned to see a hulking man, taller and even more muscular than himself. The man’s head was shaved and a ring went through his nose. Damien had to admit, it freaked him out a moment. “Yeah?”
“Come with me. Your dad gave me your front row tickets.” A smile calmed his heart. Damien followed. The man could definitely part a sea as well as Moses. Nobody dared question his booming voice, “Let us through. Excuse me. Move aside.” The giant eventually got right up to where Stella had her hands up in excitement toward the lead guitarist. Damien gladly accepted the offer to squish beside his hot date, and his helper left.
Stella instantly swept her eyes up to him and slapped a hand to her mouth. “Aaa! It’s you!”
That response would definitely do. He never saw her so excited. The atmosphere brought out a side to her he never saw before… Plus, her big green eyes emphasized by sparkling shadow and full lips emphasized by ruby red lipstick, were to die for. Damien wanted to sweep her up into a kiss right there. Instead he leaned down and gave her a warm embrace. She felt so small in his arms, and when he let her loose, his hand naturally stayed at the small of her back,
rubbing through her tank top.
*
Stella caught her breath, feeling Damien’s hand on her back. She was hyper-aware of him, even though there was so much activity all around. He looked especially nice and smelled so good. There was some sort of cool cologne scent she noticed when they had hugged. Kit inconspicuously nudged Stella, showing her excitement as well.
After the band played several songs, there was a break, as the roadies came back onto the stage, rearranging equipment. Kit and Caleb made an excuse to use a restroom or something, and Stella was alone. Well, there were still hundreds of people around, but they were alone as much as they would get.
“Soooo,” Damien said, looking down at her with his brown eyes.
“Soooo,” she repeated. Start asking him werewolfy questions! she reminded herself. He went to loop a finger around one of hers by her side. She slyly slipped out of the move and gave a teasing smile. “I’ve been thinking about how werewolves are your favorite creatures…”
Damien scratched the back of his neck, already looking uneasy. “Go on…”
“Okay. So I just finished reading the book you caught me red-handed with at a PAA meeting.”
An amused smile replaced his uneasiness. “Yes? So it wasn’t Caleb’s.” His eyes sparkled mischievously.
“No, I’m a terrible liar. So I confess. Anyway, I have to say I kept having the strangest thoughts while reading it.”
“Like what?” The smile remained steady and waiting.
“Okay, you may think I’m totally weird, but I kept thinking of you as the werewolf.”
A chuckle escaped his mouth, and he covered it with a hand. “That’s funny.”
“Is it…?” Stella tested.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, obviously forcing his smile to stay shut.
Okay, she had to go in for the kill. Obviously Damien was into her. For whatever reason he wasn’t holding back his interest any longer. Asking her on a date, and him accepting this one, was evidence enough. Oh, and of course, there was that time when he begged her on her front lawn to kiss him; that being one of the more fond memories of the bunch. “I have a secret.” She arched an eyebrow, hoping to look playful enough, and hoping he would bite.
“What’s your secret?” A dark brow of his raised, mirroring hers.
She glanced around to the crowd, and motioned with a finger for him to come closer to her mouth, so she could whisper it in his ear. He did just that. She said, “Werewolves are kinda cute.”
Damien turned to her, his eyes narrowed. “Why are you saying this to me?”
“Don’t you know?”
His gaze stayed steady on hers. They were so close to one another. “I can take a wild guess, I guess.”
“Alright. Let it be as wild as you want. What’s your guess?”
“I thought you don’t believe in this stuff…, but are you wondering if I’m a werewolf?”
An amplifier boomed, and Stella looked up to see sparks and smoke. The crowd gave out a uniform whoa in surprise. “What happened?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Too much plugs sharing an outlet or something.”
A roadie came rushing back out. He unplugged it and swiftly moved it off stage, and Stella returned her attention to her evasive date. She had to play a little harder hard-ball. She pulled together all her confidence from past experiences of successfully flirting with boys back in Idaho, then gave it all she got. A finger touched his bicep and trailed down the muscles of his forearm. His eyes looked down to her more intense. Holy hotness, why did he have to look so good?! Okay, this little test was bringing with it side effects she just couldn’t control, like feeling a combination between wanting to blush and wanting to devour him. “You’re so strong, Damien. Just like a werewolf.” She forced her finger to finish its course, and then thoughtfully worked on extinguishing her fire within, pulling her hand back to her side.
Damien reached for her hand again, and she again successfully slipped out of the grip. “You tease,” he said, but the glint in his eyes showed he was having fun with the cat and mouse chase.
“Do you ever just feel like howling?” She changed direction, looking up to the full white orb in the sky.
Damien quirked an eyebrow and shared in looking up at the moon with her.
“You can tell me….”
“Why do you think I’m a werewolf?” He went for her hand once again, and once again she moved away. He was persistent, she had to admit. But so was she.
Stella turned her gaze back to Damien’s eyes. “I’m a believer now. I know paranormal things exist, Damien. Werewolves are real.”
“Do you want me to be a werewolf, Stella?” His tone was so serious, and so were his eyes.
“Y-yes,” she let out.
Damien looked away from her, back up to the moon. “There it is,” he said.
“Huh?”
“The moon has been completely up and full, the sky completely black. Do you see me changing into any beast?” He looked back down to her.
Those words made a double-whammy impact to her stomach and her heart. “N-no, I guess I don’t.” How confusing, yet obvious. “You’re not a werewolf,” she said slowly in realization.
A hand of his caressed one of her cheeks, and she felt sort of in shock still. The way her friends had been so certain, it made her feel certain. Now, none of that made a difference. “I’m not a werewolf,” he said softly. “But if me being a werewolf would make your night, then for the first time ever I wish that I was a werewolf.”
Stella took in a much-needed deep breath. At least she got her answer. “It’s okay,” her voice drooped.
He removed his hand from her cheek and looked away from her. “A little too late,” she was sure he said.
“Huh?”
He turned back to her and didn’t say anything. She wished she could read his mind. He was a hard book to read by its cover alone. Her assumptions had been wrong too many times. Then her attention was suddenly drawn to the slight bruises on his neck. “What happened?” She pointed at one.
“It’s nothing,” he said, shaking his head.
“Hickies?”
His eyebrows went up to that. “No.”
She wasn’t sure what skeptical face she made in response, but he said firmly, “No, Stella. These aren’t hickies.”
“Well, what happened, then?”
His eyebrows furrowed, and it looked as if he was struggling with whether to say something or not.
“If you don’t tell me, then I’ll definitely think they are hickies.”
Damien exhaled a long breath through puffed cheeks. “I got into a fight.”
“A fight?”
“Yeah…”
“Why didn’t you just say so?”
“I don’t know.” He glanced away and then back, looking slightly annoyed. “But, listen, Stella—I’m not one of these guys who just likes to mess around with girls. I wouldn’t have asked you on a date if I was.”
She felt her face flush, feeling embarrassed over being wrong about him yet again. Damien’s hand felt for hers again. The thought of Billy nearly made her snap away from him, but she didn’t. If Billy was watching her, from wherever, she was sure there was no way he could see the hand-holding through the crowd. And the flirty interrogation was done; she got her answer. Now, she wanted nothing more than to feel Damien’s fingers laced between hers, warm and affectionate.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he said into her ear. His voice was like honey on her soul. Too bad there had to be a pesky Billy-bee buzzing around somewhere ready to sting the happiness out of her. But just for that moment, she closed her eyes, and let herself drift away. Here she was with Damien Capernalli, the guy she had been riding a bumpy rollercoaster with over the last couple months. The guy she was sure she knew along the way, but with every dip and turn, she found out there was more to him, more to learn. He was a guy with many layers, constantly surprising her.
Stella thought to seize the moment by asking him a personal question. She had been so self-absorbed coming to her own conclusions without once thinking to ask him his point of view. “How are things going with your dad?”
“Things are… good. You met him at the bed and breakfast, right?”
“Right.”
“I’m still in awe that I finally met him.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. He actually bought me tickets to the concert before you asked me to come. He’s around here somewhere…”
That made her perk up. “He’s here? Where?” She watched him sweep his eyes across the crowd.
“I don’t know. He knows I was meeting you, and had said he would give us alone time. I assume that’s what he’s doing—giving us alone time. I think he’s being very careful in all he does to please me. He doesn’t have to try so hard, though I understand he’s wanting to make things up to me.”
Stella nodded. She hadn’t seen her dad in just like three months, and thought that was pretty hard. She couldn’t imagine not knowing her father at all and finally just meeting him. “How’s your mom doing?”
Stella felt his hand tense in hers, and he looked off at nothing in particular. “Ma died a year ago. Car accident.”
Wow, she totally forgot his dad told her she passed away. She felt horrible for asking. “I’m sorry…”
“It’s okay. I mean, it’s not okay that she’s gone. But it’s okay that you asked. You didn’t know. I miss her. Believing that I’ll see her again one day helps me get through the pain of losing her. I live with my aunt and uncle. They’ve been great to me. Treating me like I’m one of their own, you know. They actually never had kids. They couldn’t have kids.”
Stella nodded, taking it in, and she automatically stroked his forearm affectionately. “Where’d you move from?”
“I lived on the east coast, in Jersey. Moving out here was a big change. The way people talk, the small town, all of it. In Jersey I blended in a lot more. There’s way more competition in sports, for example, when you’ve got like a thousand kids to your junior class.”
“That’s a lot of people! What was dating like? Someone new every week?”
Damien chuckled and looked down at her. “No. I know you see me as some guy who’s played around a lot with girls. And I have—kind of. But not that much. I had a girlfriend for a little while and went to dances with a few girls and stuff. When I came out here, it was like suddenly every girl was taking notice. For homecoming, I was asked out by three different girls. I never had a girl ask me on a date. That was kind of weird, and I admit an ego booster.”
