by Jordan Deen
his white knuckles held fast to the door jam.
“What’s wrong …” Mom’s eyes met mine and she quickly dropped the towel.
“Baby, calm down . . .” Dad’s voice was eerily calm and soothing. My hands tightened on the comforter and my body slightly thrashed. The pain had faded into the background again and the sounds around were muted. I watched as both my parents backed out of my room. There was a monster staring back at me from my dresser mirror with eyes black as night. I barely recognized myself. But I understood the pain I was feeling, the nervousness and uncertainty was clearly looking back at me as my face and arms turned red.
I looked away from the monster in the mirror. Brandon wasn’t lying and I ran from him today. My parents were my enemies, the smell of my mother caused the pain I was suffering. I was transforming and my parents knew. I’m a teenager, a high school student, a daughter, a friend, an enemy … and a werewolf.
c h a p t e r
THIRTEEN
My mother didn’t smell nearly as bad as Alex. If they were truly my enemies, wouldn’t they have smelt just as bad and killed me by now? Maybe there was hope for them or maybe Brandon was wrong.
I rose from the bed slowly, as every inch of my body tingled and pulsed from the touch of my clothing. A fly bounced against my window as the sun coming in strained my eyes. Every thread in the comforter felt scratchy under my fingertips. New bruising surfaced on my arms, legs and sides. I inspected my face and neck slowly; my eyes were once again green, but now they were also bloodshot and sunken in.
I felt as if I had stayed up all night playing video games and eating junk food, but didn’t nearly have as much fun. I stood at the top of the stairs listening for any noise below indicating my parents were home: nothing. I crept downstairs and pulled out a large glass for some water.
DING DONG … DING DONG … DING DONG
I glanced at the note on the counter from my parents that said they went to the grocery store. “I’m coming!” I screamed as I headed towards the door. “What?!” I said before I got the door open, prepared to give my morning visitor a mouth full. I was taken aback when I saw Brandon leaning against the side of the house and his breathing was strained.
“They are gone, right?” He leaned towards me. I reached out barely catching him before he fell over the threshold into the house. He was much heavier than he looked.
“Brandon?” I wrapped my arms around him and temporarily forgot my own pain.
“You can’t stay here. They know that you are changing sooner than they thought you would.” I helped Brandon to the couch and waited for him to catch his breath. He ran his hands down his pant legs several times and took several deep breaths before he finally reached out and touched me. When his eyes finally met mine and he was breathing easier, the world melted away. We sat alone together on the grass by the creek.
“Are you in pain?” Brandon rubbed his hand across one of the long, narrow bruises on my forearm.
“It’s not so bad.” Nothing felt wrong when he was touching me.
“Do you believe me now?” He held my hand tighter.
“I don’t know.” I answered him honestly. “My parents caused a reaction, but it wasn’t like Alex’s. How do you know they’d hurt me?”
“They will. That is why they took you from your parents.” He responded seriously.
“How are you so sure?”
“Jack and Sara stole you shortly after you were born. Their only mission was to hide you from our pack until you turned 18. They believed that if they could make you fall in love with one of them they could stop you from eliminating the Mare pack forever.” He mesmerized me with his words, with his mouth and lips slowly pressing together to form every syllable. Then I considered what he was saying. “I would never hurt my parents … or Alex.”
“You are only saying that because you don’t know them … you don’t know what they are capable of doing to you … to us.” I looked away from him and tried to clear my mind, but he squeezed my hand tighter forcing my attention back to him. “They would kill me if they found me here with you.” Brandon’s expression turned serious. My parents had their flaws, but the only people they really hated were each other.
“You have to go.” I yanked my hand away from him and regretted it instantly when reality pounded on my head and we were back on my couch.
“I can’t leave you. You don’t understand.” Brandon panicked and grabbed my hand again temporarily stopping time.
“You have to. If you think they would hurt you for being here, then you should go. You are wrong about them. They love me.” I took my hand back again.
“Lacey, they will kill you. If they kill you …” A car pulled up outside and footsteps on the sidewalk told me he really had to go now. I urged him off the couch with all my weight.
“Go out the back door. If Grant barks just tell him to lie down.” Brandon hesitated before kissing my cheek.
“You have to trust me. I love you. Always.” Then he was gone.
I stared at the door to the backyard for several moments, hoping that Grant would leave Brandon alone until he could make his escape, but I never heard a single bark from him.
“We brought dinner.” Mom called as she walked in the door. She set a large food bag on the kitchen table and pulled out several Chinese containers. The reaction was inevitable, but I still held my breath trying to keep the thrashing and the smell at bay. My eyelids pressed firmly together; I counted to three and then inhaled until my lungs were full of air and the smell of sweet n sour filled my nose. No twitching, no crawling skin, just 99-cent Chinese food from the donut shop.
As we sat down to dinner, Brandon’s suspicions about my parents filled my thoughts. Would they poison my food? I inspected the selections on my parents’ plates: rice, orange chicken and sweet n sour. All items that I knew had to be safe. I piled each onto my plate and didn’t taste until I made sure that they had. My parents laughed about Aunt Jamie complaining about a poodle that got loose and peed all over the office. Dad talked about a possible promotion that meant we would have to move. We seemed like the perfect Norman Rockwell family … but were we really werewolves waiting to attack each other? I started to think it was impossible. Other than my body reacting to my family and Alex in a weird manner, I had no proof … and I wasn’t sure if that was just a dream or not.
I helped Mom clear the dishes and stood close to her at the sink. I took a deep breath and tensed my body as I brushed my elbow against her bare skin: no reaction.
“Do you want to watch a movie? It seems like we haven’t done that for a long time,” Mom asked hugging me around the waist. Mom and I used to watch chick flicks every Sunday. We’d curl up on the couch together with popcorn, candy and a big blanket, which sounded amazing to me right now. We hadn’t watched a movie together since freshman year.
My mind was weary from the last few weeks of bad dreams and boys that may or may not be lying to me and events that may or may not have happened. “That sounds great.” I answered as I headed towards the living room, determined to get everything out of my mind and enjoy some time with Mom. “What do you want to watch?”
“Surprise me!” Mom called from behind me; her voice just as excited as my own. I turned to see Mom’s crystal blue eyes studying me. “I love you.” With moisture filling her eyes, her voice cracked. “I just want you to know that. I know we don’t say it enough.” Before I could respond she crossed the kitchen and linked her arms around me pulling me tightly to her.
“Mom, are you ok?” I asked nervously.
“I’m fine honey. The past few weeks have just been hard on us all.” She pulled back and smoothed a flyaway piece of hair on my forehead. “What movie do you want to watch?” her eyes still wet as she feigned a smile.
I pulled her closer again. “I love you, Mom.” The smell of vanilla radiated from her hair; I took in a deep breath of the comforting scent. “What about Runaway Bride?”
“That sounds wonderful. Do you want to get drinks
while I pop the popcorn?” As she winked a heavy tear escaped the corner of her eye and rushed down her cheek.
“Ut-oh. I felt a girl’s night coming on with mushy movies…” Dad wrapped his hand around Mom’s waist and hugged her tightly. “What movie will it be tonight?”
“Runaway Bride.” I said as I pulled glasses from the cabinet.
“Again? Aren’t you sick of that movie yet?” He laughed.
“Never mind, I know better. I’ll be in the office.” He kissed my forehead, swatted Mom on the butt and headed down the hallway. If there were problems between them, I couldn’t tell.
Mom and I curled up on the couch and watched the movie roll through the previews. We shared popcorn and candy as we had done so many times before. And like most other times, we tossed popcorn and candy at each other and at the TV when Julia ran from Richard at the church. We laughed and cried, sharing a common goal – for Julia to finally stop running from her destiny. Long after the movie was over, we stayed curled up against each other on the couch, covered by a blanket my grandmother had quilted.
“How is Jillian doing? She hasn’t come over lately.” I stared at the black screen as Mom rubbed her fingers through my hair.
“I haven’t really hung out with her …” I thought about Jillian telling me she had met Gavin.
“Maybe you should invite her to a sleep over. We could go get ice cream and pizzas like you guys
