Lunar City

by Samantha Cross

  “I’m not in the mood for romance,” Brinly answered.

  “And that movie is a thousand years long,” Melanie added. “It has PG-13 nudity and sex, and it’s all the chick, anyway.”

  “Well I don’t know, I was trying to come up with something that would give us a good cinematic experience. There weren’t many options,” I explained. They both stared at me blankly. “Don’t judge me.”

  “Titanic’s fine,” Brinly said with a defeated tone. “I like the movie, it’s just not fitting my mood right now.”

  The title for the movie appeared on the screen in front of the lapping waves of the North Atlantic, a haunting score accompanying it. Melanie groaned so loud she muted out the music. “Why is that woman whining? Shouldn’t she be singing?”

  “You know you’re a closet Titanic fan. I saw that Leonardo DiCaprio poster on your wall when you were a kid,” I teased.

  “He was hot, sure, but so was her fiancé, who bought her a really bomb ass necklace and had more money to spare. I can’t relate to such a stupid woman. The logic of this movie fails.”

  “You’re not for real, are you?” Brinly asked, and Melanie nodded. “She didn’t love the guy and he was a prick, anyway.”

  “How was he a prick? He only became a prick when she cheated on him.”

  “I didn’t realize this was such a sore topic,” I said with a laugh. Melanie sounded like she was seconds away from getting thoroughly worked up.

  “It’s just that she had the world at her feet and all with a guy who could have literally given her anything she wanted, yet she had to go find some other dude, just because he was wild and danced with poor people. Most women would kill to have a guy like her fiancé and she threw him to the side and took none of the blame. How many times did we see him smiling and asking her to open up to him and she just shut him down?”

  “It’s because she was forced into it,” Brinly said to her. “She was barely even a woman and was told she had to marry this total stranger because it’s what her mother wanted. It’s what was expected of her. Imagine having the rest of your life planned out for you and you don’t get a say. Imagine having that burden weigh on you every night of your life, and for someone new to come along and be the first person to really stop and ask you what it is you want.”

  “Then she should have opened up to her actual fiancé instead of stepping out of the relationship.”

  “It wasn’t really a relationship, it was an arrangement.”

  “That could have worked if she tried. Why is it no one is willing to try anymore? What’s so hard about…trying?” Her voice broke, and suddenly, I didn’t feel like we were talking about movie blockbusters anymore. It was easy to forget that Melanie was still a woman going through a bitter divorce and that this conversation stirred something up inside her.

  “Well, then, why is it so hard to understand that relationships sometimes don’t work?”

  “Brinly,” I said quietly, hoping she’d get the hint that some strong emotions were festering inside Melanie.

  She ignored me and kept on going. “It’s not so bad to leave someone who doesn’t treat you well and be with someone who at least listens to what’s going on inside your head.”

  “I think it’s bullshit.”

  Brinly chuckled. “Did Jack Dawson steal your boyfriend or something?”

  “No, he stole my husband.”

  “What?” Brinly asked with a laugh, though it was a lot softer than before as though she realized Melanie wasn’t joking around.

  It looked like Melanie didn’t want to continue, so I clarified. “Melanie just went through a divorce.”

  Melanie dipped her chin low, embarrassment prevalent on her face. “My Rose found her Jack, in the form of a secretary in a miniskirt.”

  Now it was Brinly’s turn to look embarrassed. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “He said she was easy to talk to and that she got him. I asked him why he never tried talking to me and he said it was because having a conversation with me was like having one with a teenager and that I just didn’t understand him. He waits until after we get married to tell me this. I was under the impression that we were soulmates and it turns out he thought I was an idiot.”

  Wow, that was harsh. I knew they got a divorce, but I didn’t know all the details.

  The sympathetic hand of Brinly reached out to Melanie. “Life is too short to be with people who don’t love you in the way you deserve. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. You’re young and you’re free.”

  “Yeah.”

  A silence took over the room and I could feel the awkwardness rising. I don’t think anyone anticipated that things would get so serious so quick. Definitely not on Melanie’s end.

  I cleared my throat. “This never would have happened if I put on Ghostbusters.”

  They both turned and looked at me and then smiled.

  ***

  An hour later, we were all relaxed in our seats, chowing down on popcorn, our legs draped across the arms of our chairs, the movie still blasting on the screen, but we had quieted it down so we could talk over it.

  “One celebrity you would kill to spend the night with?” I quizzed them.

  “Easy,” Brinly said as she chewed her popcorn, “Shemar Moore.”

  We all moaned at the same time like we were singing a song, clearly in agreement.

  “Melanie?” I asked.

  “Maybe Johnny Depp. He’s like a fine wine. I want him to use his pirate voice on me as we roll around on the beach.”

  “So, if it was made into a movie it’d be rated RRRR?”

  She shook her head very slowly. “That joke’s not funny, Cora. Now, you answer.”

  “I sort of have a weird thing for Ryan Reynolds,” I answered with a shrug. “He makes me laugh as long as he’s not doing really horrible romantic comedies.”

  “Okay, I have one,” Brinly said. “What’s your greatest fear?”

  “Anything twice my size,” I answered. “If it’s fast and big I am beyond terrified. Before that, it was meteor showers.” They both stared at me like I was on fire. “Hear me out. When I was a kid, the only thing I knew about meteor showers was that stars were going to be falling from the sky. I flipped out and hid inside my house all night, under the covers even. I couldn’t fathom why everyone was so excited about stars crashing down and killing us.”

  “And you thought a blanket would protect you?”

  “I wasn’t the smartest kid in the world, all right?”

  “That’s for sure,” Melanie commented and then sipped her drink through a straw. “To be honest, I’m afraid of car washes.”

  “What is with you two?” Brinly asked in the most appalled tone. “When I ask about your greatest fears, I expect death or claustrophobia, not meteor showers and a damn car wash.”

  “You never know when one of those machines will break down and the little spiny brushes crash into your car and kill you. What if my car stops moving and I have to get out and the machine kills me from impact?”

  I took a drink and said, “You really are my blood.”

  “Then what are you so afraid of?” Melanie asked Brinly.

  “What am I afraid of?” she repeated this phrase a few times, her eyes down low, and then very quietly said, “Winding up all alone, I guess.”

  “With the compound as packed as it is I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

  “There’s a big difference between being surrounded by people and being lonely,” she said, and I noticed it was hard for her to look me in the eye. She just kept peeling at the pink polish on her perfectly manicured nails.

  “You’re lonely?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

  “It’s just…hard,” she answered with a sigh. “Especially on nights like this. Every time one of the groups go out to shift I feel…”

  “Left out?”

  “Guilty. Isolated. Embarrassed. It’s a big reminder that I’m nothing like them. That
I’m always going to be an outsider looking in.”

  “But you are one of them.”

  “Not really. When they go through these turns, they form a bond—a bond that only gets stronger with each passing month, and when they return home, I can feel it. I can feel the wall between them and me growing. Papa expects me to someday take over for him, to lead, and I don’t know how that’ll ever happen when they don’t respect me.”

  “They do respect you, I’ve seen it.”

  “They’re forced to. I’m Aga Clementine’s granddaughter. Take that away and I’m nothing more than a werewolf by birth and not by experience. What kind of wolf is willing to be led by a girl who doesn’t even know what it’s like?”

  “You’ve never thought about turning just to say you’ve done it?”

  “The thought terrifies me. Would you want to put yourself through that?”

  “No, but if it’s weighing on your mind…”

  “What if I turn and it triggers this moon sensitivity, and suddenly it’s a fight to stop myself from turning every month?”

  “Brinly, if you don’t want to turn, then you shouldn’t have to. I don’t envy anyone who has to go through that, and I can bet you that every single one of them would trade places with you in a second if they could. You don’t owe them anything.”

  A tiny smile appeared. “You sound like Paul.”

  Wait, was that an insult?

  “Paul tells me all the time I shouldn’t have to turn. He’s the only one here, aside from Papa, that knows what it’s like. Of course, he doesn’t get any kind of shit because he turns into a wolf probably more than anybody. It’s practically a sport for him.” She looked up at me, her big brown eyes glowing. “Paul’s really proud of what he is.”

  “And you’re not?”

  Her pink smile faded. “I’m not ashamed of what I am, I’ve just never known how to embrace it.”

  “You have the rest of your life to figure out these things, Brinly. Don’t put so much pressure on yourself.”

  Brinly’s smile returned. “This may sound stupid, but doing things like movie night do help me forget about it all.”

  “We could keep doing this as long as I’m here.”

  “I’d like that.”

  A loud snoring sound interrupted our chat, and it suddenly all made sense as to why Melanie had been so quiet during our conversation. She was passed out, mouth hanging open, legs draped over the arm of her seat, just snoring away.

  “How attractive,” Brinly commented on Melanie’s current state.

  “Oh, it gets worse, believe me.”

  “Maybe Melanie’s onto something. I should probably head to bed.”

  “Already? But the ship hasn’t even sunk yet.”

  “I can’t watch the ending, anyway. It always makes me cry.”

  “All right.”

  “You need help with Melanie?”

  I glanced at my comatose cousin slouched in the seat, drool festering in the corner of her mouth. “I’ll just smack her around a little bit to wake her.”

  Brinly beamed. “Goodnight, Cora.”

  “Night, Brinly.”

  As soon as she got to the door, she stopped, turned back and said, “Thanks for hanging out with me tonight. I needed the distraction more than you know.”

  After Brinly was gone, I managed to get Melanie out of her chair and forced her to sleepwalk up the stairs and to her bedroom. On the way, I passed Daggett, who was dressed in dirty clothing, exhausted looking, dragging a backpack across the floor. He had obviously gone on the shifting exercise and just returned.

  “Is everybody back?” I asked, doing my best not to flat out ask if Max had returned.

  “We’ve been back for ten minutes,” he replied, his breathing erratic and heavy. “I heard Max say he needed a drink of water, so you might find him in the kitchen. Meanwhile, I’ll be off dying somewhere.”

  I curled my bottom lip. “Get some rest, Daggett.”

  He mumbled something in response but it was too unintelligible to make out and then dragged himself up the stairs like it was the hardest thing on the planet. Poor Daggett, he looked completely whipped.

  I jogged across the entrance hall of the compound and headed toward the kitchen hallway looking for Max. I heard two voices coming from a room just to my right and headed that way, figuring it was Max and another wolf in conversation.

  I never noticed the room before. It was tucked beneath one side of the staircase, used either as a broom closet or some kind of storage unit. I didn’t know why Max would be in there but I knew I recognized the voice. I pulled open the door.

  I jumped back, completely mortified at what I saw in front of me.

  It was Brinly and Lincoln with their hands tangled in each other’s hair, their bodies pressed into one another, their breathing heavy and hard, and they were kissing quite passionately and recklessly. As soon as they realized I was standing there, their kiss broke and they were nothing but startled eyes and swollen lips.

  “I… I’m sorry,” I said as quickly as possible. “I didn’t see anything,” I added, completely lying and with no reason. They knew what I had seen. It’s why they were stunned into silence.

  They were the ones getting caught and yet. I was the one whose face felt hotter than a red pepper. “I… I’ll go.” I grabbed the doorknob and slammed the door shut behind me, and then ran as fast as I could back to my bedroom.

  Shit, shit, shit, shit…

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Brinly and Lincoln? Brinly and Lincoln?

  I had been up in my room for an hour wondering how something like this could have happened with it slipping by me, completely undetected. Were they having a full-fledged affair? Did it just start or had this been going on for months? Were they already in the affair when I showed up here?

  When I thought about it, Brinly dropping shady Paul in favor of a charming, attractive and overall good person like Lincoln made perfect sense, but I just never saw it coming. Was I being dense about it? Had the clues been there all along and I was too stupid or too into my own world to pick up on them?

  I rolled over on my bed and stared at the clock. It was past eleven and it was pitch black outside, yet I knew sleeping was going to be a struggle. It was bad enough that I was worried about Max, but now I had this new revelation to weigh heavily on my mind. How was I going to face Brinly in the morning? It wasn’t something I could pretend didn’t happen.

  Suddenly, it dawned on me that my discovery could be putting my life in jeopardy as well. What if they didn’t want anyone knowing and getting rid of me was just an easy out? No, no, no, this was Brinly. She wouldn’t do that.

  Knock, knock.

  Someone was at the door. I sat up quickly, mentally preparing myself for what I was going to say to Brinly. It had to be her, no doubt worked up and ready to tell me to keep my mouth shut.

  I cleared my throat and said, “Come in.” There was no point in delaying the inevitable.

  The knob twisted and then very, very slowly the door opened, squeaking along the way like a prop in a haunted house.

  It wasn’t Brinly waiting on the other side, it was Max. I was so stunned to see him there at my door that I jumped out of bed and went running toward him.

  Max looked like absolute hell. His flesh was ghostly white and covered in beads of perspiration, and his hair completely soaked and unkempt. He looked like he could hardly stand in the doorway, holding himself up with one hand on the door frame and the other clutching his rib cage. The worst part was how bloodshot and lazy his eyes were. There was hardly a trace of those baby blues.

  I covered my mouth in shock. “Oh, my God, what happened to you?” It was a rhetorical question. I knew exactly what happened to him. I just never expected him to look like he had been run over by a truck and then launched off a cliff for good measure.

  “You think I could… take a breather here for a second?” he struggled to say.

  I didn’t even respond, I just nodded
and then moved out of the way of the door so he had more room to walk inside. Instantly, he tripped and nearly fell, but I caught him.

  “You don’t look good, Max,” I said to him, my voice dripping with concern.

  “You’re right, your complimentary skills suck,” he said, attempting to tease me, but I could tell it was all a cover just so I wasn’t worried. But how could I not be worried? He looked like he was falling apart.

  “Don’t joke,” I sternly responded. “What you’re doing can’t be good for you.”

  “It’s the only way to…” He strained to speak. “It’s the only way to fix this.”

  “Come lie down,” I ordered. Max’s legs were bent, his body hunched forward, and he had this dizzy look in his eyes like a person on the brink of falling asleep. This was not good.

  I helped him limp his way to the bed, but I was hardly any use. Max felt like he weighed a ton and if I let him truly lean on me, we’d probably both end up on the floor.

  He crashed onto the bed, so I lifted his legs that were dangling off of the edge and scooted them toward the center of the mattress as he lazily situated himself against the pillows. Once he had found his groove, I ran around to the other side of the bed and crawled onto a spot beside him.

  “Are you okay? Is there anything you need?” I asked.

  His eyes were closed as he said, “I’ll be fine. Stop worrying.”

  “Max, I’ve seen what happens when somebody goes through this transformation. It’s not pretty. And from the way you look right now, I’d say you’re aware of how not pretty this is.”

  “Because I’ve been through it… plenty. So, it’s not a big deal.”

  “Then why are you in my room?”

  “I didn’t have the strength to walk to mine.”

  “Is that what happens after you turn? You just weaken and then pass out in the nearest garden or back alley and no one bothers to make sure you get home safely?”

  “Something like that.”

  “Some support group you have here.”

  He winced again. It looked like it was a sharp pain in the ribs. “If I had them babying me at every turn, I’d never condition myself.”