by Molly Snow
“Did you get a big head?”
Damien rubbed his chin and laughed. “It did get pretty big. And I did date too much. I was actually going to rule out all girls for a while. I was tired of them, and tired of myself and how I am with them.”
“…But you asked me on a date?”
“True.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Stella huffed and eyed him.
“Alright, I do know. You’re different.”
“Well, I know I’m not like Tina, the cashier at the pizza place, but what do you mean?”
“You remember that night you came to Dough-licious?”
She rolled her eyes. “How can I forget?”
“When I first saw you, there was something… something I felt inside that was just different from when I looked at other girls. I remember your big green eyes.”
Stella smiled to that.
“…And they looked sad.”
“Sad?”
“Yeah, they were so serious and somber. Maybe somber is a better word for it, I don’t know.”
Stella stayed quiet, letting him continue.
“But not only that—they were really pretty. And they told a story other girls’ eyes didn’t. I thought about you and your eyes for a long time after that, and knew that I just had to get to know you. I had to find the reason for their sadness. And not only that—I had to know what you looked like happy. And I wanted to be the one to make you happy.”
His words were so amazingly touching and unlike anything she expected him to say, that it made her feel like tearing up. And she did. Just a little. Damien wiped the single tear that trailed down her cheek. “I said I wanted to be the one to make you smile, not cry.”
Stella took both of her palms and rubbed away the remaining tears threatening to fall. “I know.” She chuckled. “I’m sorry. It’s just, I’m surprised I could be read that easily. And by basically a stranger.”
“Why have you been sad?” He wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his hands around her stomach, and nestling her against his chest.
“You already know part of it is Billy. Because of him, I had to move away from my dad and start all over at a new school. I guess you can say I’m more of a daddy’s girl.”
“That’s cute. I’m sorry to hear that. And we both started new at Shoreline?”
“Yeah.”
“Interesting…”
“Damien,” Stella turned around and looked into his eyes, still in his embrace, “Billy’s a zombie.”
His eyes went wide and he nodded slowly, as if it actually made sense to him. “I believe you.”
“That’s why I wanted you to be a werewolf.”
“Why? What would that mean?”
“Werewolves are like natural-born zombie killers. Billy is not only still stalking me, as you know, but he promised to turn me into… into one of them.” She shuddered, and his strong arms wrapped tighter around her body.
She was quiet for a while and so was he, and she just let the beat of his heart thump in her ear, drowning out all other sounds. Finally, she pulled off his chest and said, “I’m being really selfish right now.”
“What do you mean?” His brown eyes looked down sympathetically.
“Billy doesn’t want me dating anybody. I-um went on a date with Gordon for the heck of it a little while ago. Actually, the night I pepper sprayed you—so sorry about that still, by the way. Anyway, well, Billy beat him up pretty badly. He had to go to the emergency room in an ambulance.”
“Really? Gordon? To hell with Billy,” he said, his jaw tightening. “I won’t let him hurt you or me, Stella. I’m still pretty strong. I’ll kick his—”
“No, Damien. You won’t. You can’t. Zombies aren’t what you think. They’re really, really strong. He can hurt you… or worse.”
“Billy? Hurt me? That’s not how it went down the other day in the parking lot at school.”
“What are you talking about?”
“These bruises you thought were hickies are from the fight I had with him.”
“He… fought you?” Instantly she felt a pang in her stomach, and she pulled completely out of his hold. “Yeah, I shouldn’t be doing this with you. He’s probably already seen us.” She darted her eyes around, but her body was freaking out so much it made everyone look like a uniform blur.
“Yeah, but don’t worry, Stella. I’m not hurt.”
She looked back to him and her eyes focused, though her heart still beat wildly. “You were just really lucky. Holy cow, I can’t believe you fought Billy.”
“It’s okay. Really. It’s okay. He left more wounded than me.”
“He did?”
“Yeah, I socked him in the face, and he took off running. And I’m not going to let him intimidate me. I finally get a date with you, Stella. I’m not going to give up now. Not until I at least see your beautiful eyes truly happy.” He rubbed a thumb over her cheek, and she felt like melting right there. Just his touch could change her from completely upset to completely smitten.
“I don’t want you to give up either,” she said before thinking.
“I won’t then….”
THIRTY-FIVE
Damien would have kissed Stella right then, but something prevented him from doing that just yet. So instead, he pressed his lips to her knuckles. He watched with satisfaction how Stella’s thick lashes fluttered closed at the sensation. “I won’t let him hurt you, Stella. I’m here for you.”
She reached around his torso, and he held her tight, breathing deeply the scent of her hair, like flowers. He saw Kit and Caleb weave themselves back to the front row, and Stella’s best friend actually smiled at him when they made eye contact. That’s right—she probably expected him to be a werewolf. The whole PAA probably had their hunches, hoping he would be the key to ridding Stella of Billy for forever.
An electric guitar solo soon announced the start of The Deathheads’ session, cutting into Damien’s thoughts. He squeezed Stella’s hand in anticipation and looked up to the stage’s sturdy overhang, where red stage lights shot around in different directions. One large spotlight turned on from down below, beaming up to where Rick the Rock had been waiting in the shadows on a rafter. The rocker jumped off, surprising everyone, and swooped over the stage like a bat. The audience roared in approval, and Rock somersaulted in the air several times as some fire shot out from all around the stage in big sparkling booms. When he glided down, he landed on the seat of an awaiting motorcycle, and revved it up. The electric guitar continued in high warbling notes as a fog misted the stage.
Stella raised Damien’s hand up with hers and together they yelled out in excitement. The motorcycle popped up on its back tire, and with a squeal of its rubber, Rock did donuts. Flames followed his course, making a ring of fire in the center of the stage.
The superstar hadn’t sung one note yet, and already Damien was super pumped. It all flooded back to him—why he loved this group so much as a boy, and why their songs were so nostalgic today: Rock was one heck-of-a performer. Maybe even the best ever. Like if the great magician-slash-stunt-devil Harry Houdini and the king of rock Elvis Presley himself made a baby, the result would be Rock.
*
The line for the Meet and Greet was way longer than Stella had anticipated. She thought only a select few would get to see rock stars backstage. Not even close. Tonight there was a line of at least a hundred people waiting at the entrance of a large event tent, and somehow, she and her friends were the very last in line.
Rick the Rock extended a hand with gigantic silver rings. “And who is this lovely lady?”
“Your number one fan!” Caleb declared, prodding Stella forward.
“She’s been talking about you guys nonstop ever since we met,” Kit said.
Stella felt herself blush to that, and she smiled straight ahead to Damien, who was flashing a picture of her with the super star. The rocker put an arm around her shoulder, and she could hardly
believe it. An arm around her shoulder! She couldn’t help but feel like an eleven-year-old girl, wanting to hop up and down and all around. She could even smell Rock’s famous hairspray. For a split second she considered reaching up and touching his “do.” The seventeen-year-old, more rational side to her, nipped that desire in the bud.
“Can you sign my CD?” She pulled the case out of her short’s back pocket, and he gladly took it and proceeded to sign it with a Sharpie.
“Stella knows everything about you,” Kit said.
“I’m sure she doesn’t know everything,” Rock responded, passing the CD and marker to his guitarist. “What’s my birthday?”
“March 9, 1965,” Stella answered.
“My favorite food?”
“Pizza.”
“That was an easy one. How about where I was born.”
“Jersey City, New Jersey.”
“How many children do I have?”
“None.”
“Wrong.”
“Wrong?” Stella had read pretty much every biography on the super star. She would surely know whether or not he had children… wouldn’t she?”
“Yeah, I’m afraid you don’t know that much….”
“But—”
“C-Lo,” he said to his drummer, “I’m sure my makeup is dripping from running all over the stage. Throw me my water bottle, will ya?”
Rick pulled off his shirt. For a guy who loved glitter, makeup and hairspray, the six pack under his shirt was quite the surprise. He doused the shirt with what was left of the water and proceeded to wipe the silvery stuff off his face.
Stella looked at her friends to see if they had any idea how big of a deal this was. “You’re going to show us your face?”
“Sure. Our gig is up. We’re retired.” He still rubbed, his face covered. “Why not?”
“You’ve refused to show yourself to Diane Sawyer, Oprah Winfrey, Ellen…”
“I don’t know them from Adam. They’re just others in the entertainment industry.” He held the shirt over his face, as if reconsidering, then removed the thing. Rock suddenly looked like a regular guy, just with big hair… and sparkly black pants. He didn’t look like anyone in particular, though he had one of those faces that could fit as a next door neighbor or the bagger at the grocery store.
Rock said to Damien, “You okay? You look upset.”
Stella saw the fallen expression on her date’s face. “I’m fine,” he said. “It’s nothing.”
“What was it? Did I ruin the magic by showing myself?”
“No, I guess I just—with the way you said you were from New Jersey, born in 1965—“
“Yeah?”
“You said you had a kid. And, well, my dad came with me to the concert, but then just suddenly disappeared. I was just adding things up in my mind. I guess I just had a stupid idea that, you know—”
“That I was your father?”
“Uh… yeah.”
“No, I ain’t your father. My boy’s not born yet. He’s still in his mother’s womb. That’s why your girlfriend here got that answer wrong, because there was no way she coulda known.”
After taking a zillion and a half photos with the band, they walked out of the event tent content. Well, except for Damien. Stella could see something eating at him.
The stage was already halfway taken down, and the beach was eerily quiet, except for Kit and Caleb walking beside them, rambling on about whatever. “What’s the matter?” Stella looked up to Damien.
He softly kicked at the sand as they went, and cast his eyes around. “My dad is still gone.”
“Do you think he went home?”
“Nah. I drove and have the keys right here in my pocket.” He jingled them.
“Can you call him?”
Damien instantly stopped in his tracks and pulled out his phone. He thumbed across its screen a few times, then put it to his ear. Kit and Caleb stopped and watched. The call apparently went to voice mail and Damien redialed a couple more times with no luck. “It’s just really weird,” he said, concern taking over his expression more and more. “Where is he?”
A chill went up Stella’s neck. Billy. “Did anyone see Billy tonight?”
Caleb shook his head and so did Kit.
“Are you looking for us?” a voice said in the distance. Stella whipped around to see the shadowy figure of Billy… with an arm around Rock’s throat?
Stella let go of Damien’s hand and felt her chest tighten. “Billy! What are you doing?”
“Just taking a stroll with your date’s father,” he said, coming closer.
“That’s not my father!” Damien called out. Stella could see the veins in his arms as he clenched his fists.
“That’s not his father,” Stella repeated.
Billy laughed to that. “Oh, I’m pretty sure this is. He told me so himself. Now why would he lie?” His arm stayed around the man’s neck as they moved in a little closer.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Let him go.” Damien took some cautious steps toward them.
Billy came closer and now Stella could clearly see his face. It wasn’t as beautiful as usual. Stitches went all around his cheek, reminding her of the zombie girl from her dream. There was also a maniacal look in his dark eyes. “Hi, Stella,” he said and smiled. “I’ve missed you.”
“Let him go, Billy.” Stella glanced to Rock who had his makeup back on, and was pulling on Billy’s arm, trying to release himself from his squeeze.
“I don’t really want to do that just now, my love.”
Damien stepped closer, and Billy threatened, “I’ll snap his neck. Don’t come any closer. I have a trade in mind. I get Stella and you get your father.”
“But I told you—he’s not my father.”
Billy loosened his arm’s grip. “Say hi to your son.”
The man choked.
“Say hello to your son. It’s rude not to do so.”
“H-hello,” he said to Damien.
Damien narrowed his eyes. “Dad?”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“…But I just met Rock. Why are you dressed like this?”
Billy spoke for him. “He’s Rock’s stunt double. Pretty nifty, huh? What? You didn’t know he had a stunt double?”
“I didn’t know anything about my father before a month ago, you slime. Let him go!”
“Alright, give me Stella.”
Stella interjected, “I am nobody’s to be given or taken! Let him go, Billy. This has gone too far. Even you must have some self respect left somewhere deep inside your rotten soul.”
“Actually, you’re quite wrong about that, my dear. My self-respect left long ago, when you refused me. I could have lived a normal life, otherwise. And I—I would have made you a happy mate. You see, there’s hundreds of years left to my life, unlike… Damien here, who will be worm food, decaying in a putrid pool of his own bile ever before me.” He pushed his hostage to the sand, and stepped forward slowly. “Stella, you have no idea what kind of mistake you have made. Choosing this guy over me. I would have given you anything.”
Stella got to her knees, not even feeling the warmth of the sand, as she was so involved with her plea. She pressed her hands together and shook. “Billy, please. I’m begging you right now. If you love me, let me be.” A tear rolled down her cheek.
Billy’s eyes seemed to show a split-second light of compassion, before he grabbed her by the hair and jerked her. Her scalp burned from the force. “If I don’t turn you, you will be with this fool.”
“I saved your life, down at the other beach! I saved your life!” Damien’s voice echoed in Stella’s ears. “Let her go!”
“I’ll kill her if you touch me!”
“I’ll kill you if you don’t let go!”
Billy crouched over her. She couldn’t see anything, and all she could smell was his foul dirt odor enveloping her. There was more yelling, and she buried her face against the sand. A continual commotion rocked her around a
nd the heaviness of Billy against her was too much to lift. Then came a sharp pain, shooting through her upper arm; it stung like being filled with an acid. She screamed out, letting her body crumple more as the fire within spread from her arm and quickly into her chest, then down her legs. Burned alive! was all she could think. Burned alive!
The heaviness left her, and she could hear like in a far off distance, down a dark tunnel, “It’s been done. She’s mine.”
Stella opened her eyes and peered through her fog. Billy had a hand pressed against her neck, but not so much that it hurt, or that she felt it whatsoever, for that matter. “Leave us be,” he said, still sounding far away. “She’s mine now. There’s nothing you can do. If you kill me, then she’ll have no one like her to care for her, to love her, to understand her as I do. She’ll be left alone in her treacherous state for the rest of her days.”
THIRTY-SIX
Damien’s nostrils flared and he felt his chest heave. Anger pushed blood and adrenaline through his veins so strongly, he could actually feel its hot course. For a moment, he forgot he wasn’t a werewolf any longer. “Stella wouldn’t want you either way. You’ve made a big mistake. I’m going to rip you to shreds.”
“I’m afraid we can’t let you do that,” said a woman’s voice from behind. She was heavyset, wearing a polka-dotted sundress, and looked vaguely familiar. Beside her stood a heavy man with a twirled mustache. “Billy’s our boy. And we approve of his choice for marriage. Stella’s a darling girl.”
“Marsha?” Stella’s eyes narrowed up at the woman, from her crumpled position on the ground. A light went on in Damien’s head—the bunny-foo-foo, slipper-wearing strangers who stayed with the PAA.
“Call me Mom, dear.” Marsha stepped toward Stella with a beaming smile. “You already met Grandma. And don’t worry, dear—I don’t blame you one bit for what happened. It was her time.” She winked.
Billy smiled wickedly, and said to Damien. “Looks like you lose. There’s three of us and one of you. And, well, without your powers anymore, you can’t really rip me to shreds, can you?”
Damien darted his eyes around, expecting to also see Kit and Caleb somewhere. Or at least his father. But none of them were around any longer. Figured. And he didn’t really blame them either.
