Bad Storm

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Bad Storm Page 7

by Jackie Sexton

“Let me seeee!” Sierra begged, pounding on the door. “How does it look?”

  I didn’t say anything for a while, and just grinned mischievously as I let the silence speak for itself.

  “Is it really that bad?” she sounded disappointed. I threw open the door and she gasped. I couldn’t help but laugh at her reaction.

  “You jerk! You look incredible!” her eyes widened as she scanned me head to toe. “Turn around!” I complied, a huge grin on my face as I twirled around in a circle, my hands on my hips as I sashayed with sass.

  “Oh my God you have to let me take a picture of this for my instagram!” she demanded, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

  “Go for it,” I laughed, hamming up a ridiculous pose for her.

  “I know you’re trying to be silly right now, but you just look hot,” she said as she snapped the picture, the flash momentarily blinding me.

  “Pleeease let me do your make-up!” she begged.

  “Alright,” I agreed, knowing Sierra was really the person to go to for that kind of stuff. As we rushed over to the bathroom she checked her phone and shrieked.

  “Ten likes! And Brandon says your look so hot you’re going to turn him.”

  I laughed and sat on the toilet, feeling nervous and giddy as she pulled make-up bags out from underneath the sink. I hadn’t prepared for a date in over a year, and I couldn’t help but feel super girly and excited.

  “Oh my god…you won’t believe this, but Jason liked it.”

  “Ew,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “Put that stupid phone away and do my make-up. I don’t want to think about that loser.”

  She laughed and placed her phone on the sink, turning a bottle of concealer over on a triangular white sponge. “Okay, close your eyes. This is going to take five minutes, I swear.”

  “Okay, it better because Trent is going to be here in like two minutes,” I mumbled, shutting my eyes. I shivered as she spread the cool goop over my face, and then dusted it over with powder. I didn’t get to open my eyes until she needed to put on mascara.

  She was just about finished when there was a knock at the door. “Ugh, hold on,” she muttered, and my stomach burst with butterflies. He was there, at the door. I suddenly grew self-conscious about how hard I was trying. What if he didn’t like it, if he thought I was trying to be some club girl or something I wasn’t?

  “Shut up,” I told myself, closing my eyes and imaging what I looked like in that dress. I looked fabulous and I knew it. I wasn’t going to let my shitty self-esteem get in the way of what could be a tremendous night.

  I heard Trent’s low voice and Sierra’s giggling, and I felt my nerves turn into excited anticipation. She returned and finished up the mascara, caking me one more time with the powder before beaming ecstatically.

  “You look like a freakin’ goddess. It’s not even fair.”

  “Oh yeah right,” I laughed, getting to my feet. But when I turned around to see myself in the mirror I couldn’t help but gasp and bring a hand to my mouth.

  It was me, but it was the most beautiful version of myself I had ever seen. My skin looked radiant and flushed in the right places, and my eyes popped and matched my brown hair. For the first time, I thought the color was lovely instead of boring. Even my lips were a shade darker, and more lively than normal, popping from my face in a full, graceful bow.

  “I look incredible,” I gasped. Sierra pulled my hair out of its ponytail and let it fall down my shoulders in elegant waves.

  “Yeah you do. Here, I brought your heels. Go out there and show him you’re a diva!”

  I rolled my eyes and giggled. Sierra was prone to saying ridiculous things like that, but she was right. I looked and felt like a queen. I slipped on my silver heels and she handed me my black purse. I stepped out into the hall and then the living room, where Trent was standing in a gray shirt and dark jeans.

  For once he looked well-rested, and his hair was neat and flattened with a shiny pomade. He still had a line of stubble though. I grinned as he caught sight of me, his eyes growing twice the size of his head.

  “Sorry, I guess I must have over-dressed…”

  “No,” he said quickly and forcefully, taking several long strides in my direction. “You look amazing. Don’t apologize.”

  I couldn’t help but blush, completely floored by the look of reverence and awe in his eyes. It was unabashed, and I was reminded about how it was only recently that we could openly look at each other in such lustful, admiring ways.

  “Well, as much as I’d like to stand here and stare at you all night—”

  “Hey!” Sierra snapped from behind me protectively.

  “What, I mean it!” Trent laughed. “Part of the surprise is going to get cold…”

  I looked at him quizzically and then just shrugged. “Alright, well, let’s get going then.” He outstretched his hand and I took it, my heart skipping a beat at his warm touch.

  “Bye you two love birds!” Sierra cooed. I turned my head around and scowled at her. She just smirked back and gave a little wave of her hand.

  When we got to the parking lot, Trent opened the car door for me and everything. I could tell he was slightly nervous, which was super cute. He wasn’t naturally chivalrous. It wasn’t that he was rude or anything. He was just used to having female friends his whole life, and was more than aware that we could take care of ourselves.

  Still, I couldn’t help but be moved by the small, polite gestures.

  “So, still not going to tell me where we’re going?” I teased as he started the ignition.

  “Then it wouldn’t be a surprise,” he said, turning up the volume on the radio just a tad too loud.

  “Oh okay, I get it,” I smirked, sitting back into my seat. He didn’t want to give anything away, and I couldn’t blame him. If I had planned a surprise for him it would be hard not to spill the beans—Trent was almost as bad a liar as I was, especially when he was excited about something.

  I was looking out the window, grateful that the weather had lightened up and that the evening was free of rain so far, when I heard the familiar strum of guitars on the radio. I reached my hand to change it, instinctively for some reason, wanting to protect Trent from Fun Aim’s success. But he caught my hand, preventing me from changing the radio dial just as Aamir’s familiar, melodic voice broke through the speakers.

  His face hardening as he looked straight out the windshield.

  “I heard them earlier today on the radio,” I admitted, dropping my hand down to my lap in defeat. “I guess I didn’t realize how successful they were.”

  “Me neither,” he grumbled. I could see the annoyance on his face, and I felt it grow in the space between us.

  “Well, just for the record, I think Bad Moon is a hundred times better.”

  He turned towards me for a second, and I saw a flicker of a smile.

  “Yeah, we are, aren’t we?” He turned his eyes back to the road, looking a little smug.

  “Actually, I’ve been meaning to tell you some fantastic news. But I figured it’d be best to see you in person to tell you,” I said, feeling giddy.

  “Oh yeah? What’s that?” Trent sounded suspicious.

  “Well I talked to the manager at The Nightshift, he’s Dan’s brother, and while it’s not a huge venue or anything, he said they’d love to have you guys play. One of their acts dropped for an upcoming show.”

  “Really?” I could see Trent’s face light up. “When is it?”

  “Brandon’s birthday.” I couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied with myself. “Better than a surprise party, wouldn’t you say?” Just the thought of Brandon’s face would be priceless. He could anticipate a party, but he definitely wouldn’t be able to predict this.

  “I’ve heard him practicing in his room these last few days, I think it’s perfect. He’d love it, hell, we’ll all love it,” Trent said, a buoyancy coming through his voice. “God, you’re so fucking awesome,” he shook his head, as if in disbelief.

&n
bsp; “Hey, I’m still your manager. No one ever fired me, remember?”

  “Yeah, I remember. We got the best, smartest, prettiest manger in the world.”

  “Shut up,” I said, but I couldn’t help but smile. Trent slowed the car as we approached the beach, turning onto the street that ran parallel to the ocean.

  “I won’t.” He shot me a quick glance. “You really are fantastic.”

  I was blushing so hard at the compliment that I could do little more than clear my throat and change the subject. “So, the beach, huh?” I said, turning my head to look out the window. We were on the less populated area of the beach, the quietest part of the city’s beach that wasn’t privately owned.

  People usually didn’t come here because it was by a buggy lagoon and it was pretty rocky, and not a great place for swimming in general. But Trent knew I loved it because it was quiet and earthy. It made me think of what the shoreline must have looked like before people commercialized it, what it must look like in more remote areas of the world.

  “I figured you’d like it, since you haven’t come down here since last summer.”

  “Really?” I said, slightly shocked. We had grown up here, in this sandy beach town. While it’s true I wasn’t taken by sand in my bathing suit or sunburns, I didn’t avoid the little piece of paradise. It was home, and I loved it.

  “Yeah, Sierra kept trying to get you to come out here but you were busy with your senior thesis and graduation stuff, you know.” Trent turned the car into one of the more forgotten lots. It was one where you didn’t have to pay, but people didn’t like to park in if they could avoid it because it was the lot to a run-down sea food shop.

  It was kind of weird because tourists were everywhere, and while this area wasn’t the hottest part of the beach, you would expect that even this corner would have prime real estate. But people claimed that shack was haunted, and that anyone who tried to start a business there was doomed.

  Most people, like myself, didn’t buy the ghost stories. It seemed pretty logical to assume that most people didn’t want to own a business that sat on a wooden pier that needed a good deal of repairs.

  “I don’t know why you always insist on parking here,” I teased, jumping out of the car and stretching my arms over my head.

  “It’s quiet,” he shrugged. “And hey, you were supposed to let me open the door for you.”

  “Oh, sorry!” I laughed as he came over to meet me around the back of his old pick-up. I wrapped my arms around his neck and he slipped his arms around my waist, pulling my body towards his. The cool night air whipped around us, fresh with salt and losing its humidity as the evening wore on. The sinking the sun lowered in the sky.

  He kissed me gingerly and slowly, stealing me away, stopping time. “It’s like I’ll never get used to that feeling,” he murmured as he pulled his lips away from mine.

  “Don’t get used to it. It’s more fun when you don’t,” I teased. He chuckled and we headed down a wooden set of stairs that lowered over the lagoon and onto the beach. Luckily, the rainy weather from the day before seemed to keep the bugs at bay.

  The waves lapped onto the shore and the evening gulls circled above head, calling out to one another. I could only see a man and his son forty yards or so to our right, throwing a Frisbee around. Otherwise there wasn’t a soul to be seen.

  “This is great. I might not be dressed for the occasion though,” I teased, turning my head up towards Trent’s. He smiled down at me.

  “You dressed beautifully for a beautiful night. You’re perfect as far as I’m concerned.” He kissed the top of my head. “Now you stay out here, I’m going to go get the rest of the surprise.”

  “I hope the rest of the surprise includes lawn chairs!” I called out after him as he ran up the stairs we had just descended.

  I looked out into the ocean and took a deep breath of the calming, sea air. It was good to be home, the one place where I truly felt myself. The rest of South Florida may be more exciting, but it wasn’t like here. We didn’t have as many clubs as Miami or Fort Lauderdale, but we had buskers who looked like Jimmy Buffet, and thanks to all the college students, a great variety of cheap, fast cuisine everywhere you turned.

  A small breeze picked up, lifting my hair off my shoulders and pulling it away towards my left shoulder.

  “Hey! Pretty lady!” I turned around and smiled as Trent ran up to me, barefoot and with a giant box of pizza in his arms, a beach blanket folded up on top of it.

  “What do you got there?” I teased. He tossed the blanket towards me, and I caught it, spreading it out in the direction of the wind. I sat and Trent plopped down next to me, closer than he would have when we were just friends, and set the box in front of us. It was Rizzo’s, my absolute favorite pizza. They made pizza so big that each slice was easily bigger than your head.

  “This is insane!” I laughed, looking at the box that could easily be the height of a small child.

  “It’s your favorite,” he said, opening up the box. A strong waft of cheese and herbs hit my nostrils, causing my mouth to water. “Cheese and more cheese.”

  “Boy, do you know me,” I reached over for a slice, and Trent pulled some napkins out from under the box.

  “I also know how you like to rub napkins on your food.”

  I took the napkins and stuck my tongue out at him playfully. He loved to chide me about what he considered to be my strange eating habits. I blotted out the slice and took a deep bite into heaven, and couldn’t help but sigh. Trent was on the same page as me, shoving a piece in his face faster than I could blink.

  It was awesome, enjoying the best pizza in the world together as they waves crashed onto the shore. The sun began to set, the big orange globe dimming in the sky and falling into the ocean. It was one of the benefits of living on the east coast.

  “When was the last time you saw this happen?” Trent moved in closer to me once we had finished stuffing our faces.

  “I don’t know. I guess last summer,” I shook my head in disbelief. It was something I did all the time when I was a kid, at least once a week with my brother and my mom. Sometimes my dad would even come if he wasn’t too busy. There was something magical about it, even though I had seen it thousands of times over.

  It was depressing to think that I had gotten so involved with graduating and school that I had forgotten one of the simple joys in life.

  “Can you experience my memories? Just because...I recognized Lark, somehow. I was just wondering if I tapped into Brandon’s memories somehow, ” I realized that I still didn’t understand how I recognized her in the cemetery, or what my draw to her was.

  He pulled his arm around my shoulders. He smelled clean and like aftershave. “No, not unless it’s related to danger. Generally, an enemy is cataloged in our collective memory, so that we can protect one another, but you wouldn’t be able to see Brandon’s memories with Lark. That goes for everyone in the pack. It’s a general defense mechanism.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking…how do packs work? Like…I don’t know. Obviously you were all turned separately. Sorry if I’m getting too nosey.”

  “It’s alright.” Trent paused for a moment, looking out into the sinking sun, and I wondered if it really was alright. “You need to know. Pack’s don’t just happen, you’re right. They kind of form over time. You see, shifters sense other shifters, and when you meet one of your own, you just know. If I met another werewolf right now, for example, I would just know.”

  “So…werewolves have instincts that regular people don’t,” I asked slowly. The sun darkened and widened, like a giant, sinking blood orange in the sky.

  “Sort of, yeah.” he said. “I mean we do, but another way of thinking about it is we’re in touch with our instincts. It can be hard for me to remember sometimes, because I’ve been this way for so long, but…before I remember having gut feelings and reactions. I just couldn’t explain or trust them. Now I do. I immediately tap into them and let them direct me. So when I
met Brandon, he was the first person I met and just knew was like me.”

  “When did you meet Brandon?” I had a sneaking suspicion it was well before I was introduced to him. I gasped and suddenly saw an image of a young, skinny Brandon, baby-faced and with a set of green braces.

  “High school,” he admitted. “He didn’t live very close to us, actually lived in Broward County, but I ran into him at a show. We kept in contact. When we went to Florida University, he introduced me to Mac, who was housing two werewolf sisters in one of his rental properties.”

  “Allison and Lola,” I said quietly.

  “Exactly,” Trent nodded. “Mac’s late wife, Kathy, she owned the properties. She wasn’t like us, but she knew about it. Passed from cancer. I never met her, but I know she’s the reason he keeps going. She wanted him to start a pack in one of his properties, to specifically protect younger werewolves like ourselves. She taught speech pathology at Florida University, so she had a soft-spot for students.”

  “Wow,” I murmured. I kept my eyes on the sinking sun, now halfway into the water. I had never really thought that much about Mac’s life, and had no idea it was filled with such tragedy. He was always just Trent’s handy, southern landlord to me.

  “And Nick came with Brandon as some kind of demon protector package deal. Worked out since none of the rest of us had an other-worldly protector. So…there you have it. How I became part of the Deston Pack. Not really exciting. Once you start living or spending a lot of time with another wolf, they become part of your emotional network. It’s kind of weird at first, and even though you aren’t one, your part of it because of the imprinting. It’s like a defense mechanism.” Trent turned to me and squeezed my hand under his.

  “We have to protect you now. Because being bound to one of us means your bound to all of us. And there are some inherent dangers that come along with hanging out with shifters.”

  “You mean…more than just the possibility that you’ll lose control,” I said more than asked. I felt dread rolling around in the pit of my stomach.

  “Yeah. People don’t like us for being who we are, as I’m guessing Nick told you.”

 

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