Nightly Howls

by Madeline Blake

  This naive man really is insufferable.

  But I have to admit once more, as I stare into his perfect face, that he is beautiful. His azure hair waves in the breeze, the sun catching random strands and making it sparkle. His plump, desirable lips give in to a flawless palette, a face that God must have specially crafted. A set of two intoxicating, amazingly green eyes rest below thin eyebrows and a wall of long, enviable eyelashes.

  I can’t understand why he makes my heart beat so fast.

  "Ella, I love you," he spurts, perking up after a long stretch of silence. Chills race up and down my arm. Is there no way out of this nightmare?

  There is a whoosh, and a familiar pair of bronzed arms sweeps me up into a tender embrace. "You sure are clumsy," musical, manly chuckles escape Nico as he stands me back up. I look up into his green eyes, so incredibly beautiful, feeling myself slipping.

  No, I scold myself inwardly; don't let even a slip of vulnerability show. If you do, you will never be alone.

  My face hardens as I speak, disconcertment still in my tone. "You don't say that if you don't mean it," I whisper, knowing that he would hear me.

  He just looks at me, confusion etching his face. "Of course I mean it, Ella," he says matter-of-factly, "you are my mate. Of course I love you."

  "Can you shut up?!" I roar, my voice searing, "I hate you!" Once the words escape my mouth, I quickly look away so he will not see the blush. The real emotions boiling beneath the facade.

  Time seems to be suspended between us, his hand still latching upon my arm, his face reeling in shock. However, this moment quickly ceases, and Nico does what is considered impossible to do in this type of situation.

  He smiles, his eagerness unrelenting. "This is something new. I have never heard of a mate not being in love with their destined one," he says softly.

  "You know, Ella, hate is the first step to love.” His eyes grow fierce, determined. He steps closer to me, capturing me with his beautiful eyes.

  “I will make you fall in love with me.” He takes my hand, and I am unable to resist him. I am frozen by his stare, his words. After holding my hand for a few seconds, he presses his lips to it and then releases me.

  My hand burns from where his lips had brushed it.

  He then smiles, as if he is actually looking forward to the time when I will finally accept him. Which, by the way, is never coming.

  I glance his way, though refusing to meet his gaze. I am truly curious as to why he felt so determined to make me love him. It can't possibly be because he is attracted to me, for I am too ugly for that. It can't be because of my personality, for it is the worst I've observed so far in my lifetime.

  I listen keenly as he begins to speak again. "You seem to believe that I'm a werewolf, not asking any questions about it after seeing me morph," he says softly, "it is usually hard to accept."

  "Who says I believe it?" I scoff, turning away once more so he can't see my fiery cheeks. I mean, it is hard for me to not believe it, I saw him morph into one of those sharp-toothed, furry beasts. But I don’t want to accept it. I don't want to acknowledge that my life is suddenly spiraling out of control.

  "Yes you do," he smiles, making my heart jump out of my chest, "I can see it in your eyes."

  "Shut up," I demand, tilting my nose up slightly, though inwardly shaking with embarrassment. I have never talked to a boy, let alone a beautiful one, for this long. And on the very first long conversation I have with a guy, he professes to be in love with me?

  This is seriously messed up.

  Nico peers at me, at my face hidden behind my thick bangs. "Did you have glasses in the forest where I rescued you?" he asked.

  I nod in reply, "yes, but don't worry about trying to find it. I have this one," I finger my thick lenses. He seems unsatisfied, his facial expression of sadness.

  "Like this," he comments sadly, "I can't see your cute eyes that well. Is there any way you could go without them?"

  I shake my head, my cheeks flushing once more. He stops completely, bending down so he can be at my level. Quietly, halting me with a gentle touch, he observes me, examining my face. He frowns, his sparkling eyes creasing a little in disappointment. "Ella," he says, "you look very different from when I first met you."

  Yeah, I think inwardly, probably you didn't realize how ugly I am until now. "Disappointed?" I ask scornfully.

  "No," he smiles, "you are just as beautiful as you were yesterday."

  I choke on my own breath, shock coursing through me. No one, let alone a shockingly handsome man, has ever called me beautiful, or even pretty.

  "It's just," he complains, "that your bangs cover half of your face, and your glasses cover your eyes. It’s almost as if you’re hiding from me," His facial expressions bend in a frown.

  I glare at him, my face now almost permanently red. This conversation really is introducing a lot of firsts for me, and a ton of embarrassment. "Oh really?" I ask, trying to make my voice indifferent, uninterested.

  "Yeah," he says, deep in thought. We both are silent, walking together calmly, neither of us knowing exactly what to say next.

  "Hey Nico?" I finally speak, surprising Nico a little. He glances at me, his face of bafflement at the fact that I am starting the conversation this time around.

  "Yes?" he replies, "ask me anything." His face perks up a little.

  There are so many questions I wish to ask him. For one, why is he insisting on calling me beautiful? What sort of lunatic man would think I am beautiful in the first place? Why the crap do werewolves actually exist?

  But instead, this question just has to escape my lips. "Why don’t you just leave me alone?" I ask bitingly, mentally slapping myself in the face for wasting an opportunity to ask a better question.

  However, Nico doesn't seem to be as disappointed as I am. "You really want to know?" he warns, "even I don't truly know why, and what I do know might upset you."

  I reel back in confusion. "Um, sure," I nod slowly. That was supposed to be a rhetorical question, but if he has an answer, I want to hear it.

  "Okay," he says, "well, let me start off by saying that werewolves are very similar to wolves in that they have a very keen sense of smell."

  "No duh," I murmur under my breath, earning a brief scowl from him.

  "Work with me, okay?" he asks. I just nod again, dubious.

  "A werewolf, in fact, has an even better nose in many ways. They are able to associate an individual person with their "signature" scent, an underlying smell every creature in the world has. They are all a little different, and never changes from the moment the creature is born," he explains slowly, his voice melodious and smooth.

  "What does that have to do with-" I say, only to feel a single hand cover my moving lips. He looks at me, stunning me with his seriousness, tugging me to stay silent.

  "Generally," he continues, "all humans have sweet smells. However, yours is extra attractive. I have no idea why, but your aroma is very appealing to me."

  "Is that because I am your mate?" I ask curiously. He shakes his head.

  "It is not just a mating thing," he says, looking away. “This was even before I mated with you.” At my angle, I can see his beautifully blue hair, sparkling in the bright sun. As he ponders, his eyebrows narrow a little in deep concentration. Finally, he turns to me, his expression hard. "I don't know why, but I... can't stay away from you," he confesses, though with a straight face. His sparkling eyes look ashamedly at the floor, knowing that his words are not the ones I want to hear.

  The world crumbles around me, hope obliterated.

  "Are you saying that I am stuck with you for the rest of my life?" I ask miserably.

  "I really don't know. That is why, after school, I am going to take you back to the mansion so we can find out."

  "WHAT?!" I exclaim, my interjection scaring even the birds away. He looks at me, his emerald eyes creasing in sorrow.

  "I knew you wouldn't be happy," he comments, his face reflecting my own, "but we both h
ave to work through this. Maybe, in some way, my friends can help." He grabs me once more for a spine-crushing hug, sending electricity through my body. "Why can't you be more accepting of me?" he complains, his voice teasing, "am I not lovable enough?" His face perks up immediately, his tone changing slightly.

  Not knowing quite what I am doing, I raise my hand as if to slap him. I bring my hand rushing forward to meet his arrogant cheek, only to be stopped by a blur of movement. "You have to do better than that," Nico grins, "if you want to slap a werewolf." He pulls me closer, his hot breath dawdling on my cheek. "Here is your punishment," he places one muscled hand on my chin, tilting my head up slightly. My heart beats faster as he brushes his plump lips across my blushing cheeks.

  "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" I yowl, jumping away from his smirking form. Quickly I race away from him, my voice high and screeching. He just smiles at the obvious disconcertment hiding underneath my anger. Without a word, he meanders ahead of me, never looking back.

  For he knows I will follow.

  ***

  Matherson Public School creeps upon us until we can see its brick walls and rather drab surroundings. It looms above its students, standing two full stories tall, casting a shadow upon their forms. Weeds sprout in little bursts all over the premises, grass untamed and wild. All in all, it is the rehashed image of a normal high school that stands to be many students' second home.

  Nico pauses so I can finally catch up to him, assuming that my anger would have cooled down by this point. As I unwillingly head to his side, forced by my probable tardiness, I spy his excited face. "Why are you so happy, wolfboy?" I snap, my voice harsh and abrasive. My bangs droop in front of my eye as I slump slightly, shifting into my regular position when I'm around people at school.

  He peers at me strangely. "Why are you slumping? I thought you had perfect posture," he inquires quietly. I frown, my eyes narrowing.

  "None of your business," I curtly say, looking away from him, "answer my question instead of asking your own."

  Nico seems unaffected even though I've treated him so rudely, an action, or rather, lack of action I have come to predict from him. "Well, you sure did taste good," he smiles brightly, winking at my form. I boil, my eyes now in a squint. Once again, Nico just looks on, oblivious to my anger and embarrassment. I wonder how he so conveniently shuts out my reluctance, innocently disregarding it.

  Suddenly, all conniption evaporates as I survey the huge clock situated on the front of the monotonous school. "Crap!" I yell, watching the second hand tick towards the 12, prompting the minute hand to gravitate towards its next number. I grab Nico's hand, dragging him along with surprising force. As I run, I spurt out, "Nico, if not for you I would have gotten to school on time! I can't be late... I can't..."

  The doors snap shut as I slide to meet it, barring my way.

  I hang my head in utter defeat, my eyes staring towards the floor in shame. I am late. Ms. Penn is going to kill me. I should have just died yesterday.

  I forget that I'm even holding Nico's hand until he grips it tightly; sending electric sparks throughout my body. I hate the fact that I am so aware of him, the smallest touch alerting me and making butterflies flutter in my stomach. Why can't I just avoid him? Why can't I hate him with all of my energy instead of harboring this little feeling of admiration for his beauty and perseverance?

  A portly lady with a stomach the size of a beach ball walks up to the glass, staring at our forms. Her practically nonexistent eyebrows–obviously they have been plucked too much–rise as she surveys Nico's glistening blue hair and sparkling green eyes. Wordlessly she swings the door open, not lifting her gaze from his magnificence.

  "Who are you?" she queries, her mouth almost dropping to her knees. He cracks a million dollar smile, melting the woman into slush on the cold floor.

  "My name is Nico, and this is Ella, my ma-" he begins, only to wince as I squeeze his hand in a deathly grip.

  "Well, hello Nico," she grins, her dull, coal black eyes glistening as she absorbs his masculine features. "I haven't seen you before. Are you new?" she inquires, completely ignoring me.

  "Yes ma'am," he confirms, "Ella came with me to show me around the school." The fat lady finally turns her laser like gaze upon my form, her eyes narrowing as she takes me in.

  "You aren't new, correct?" she asks coldly. I nod in response, not opening my mouth for this witch. "You will be counted tardy," she informs me, my eyes widening in alarm at her words. I yank my hand away from Nico, feeling a sudden burst of anger.

  "Please, miss," Nico says pleadingly, "she was just telling me about the school, and we lost track of the time... it is my fault." His touch is now comforting, filling me with warmness even I can barely comprehend.

  The woman now is flustered, I can tell, torn between her disgust with me and her obvious liking of the beautiful man beside me. Finally, she replies, "okay, if that is all. Please don't do this again. Consider this to be a warning."

  Nico flashes another heart-melting grin, stunning us both, although I desperately try to fight it. "Thank you," he bows, taking her hand and brushing his lips across it.

  I can't explain the anger flooding through me at that moment. I hate him. I want him to disappear.

  He elegantly stands straight as the woman embarrassedly orders us to follow. Her face is flushed as she wobbles down the hallway, obviously affected by his alluring gentlemanliness.

  Nico chuckles a little, grabbing my hand once again as we follow her. I jerk my hand away again, anger rushing through me. "Don't touch me!" I demand. Now there is full-out laughter. I shake with irascibility, my emotions running hot through my veins.

  "Ella, you are jealous, aren't you?" he asks. I try desperately to contain the blushes, but it still spreads all over my cheeks. I don’t understand why I am behaving this way. "Don't worry," he whispers, leaning in, his breath dancing across my ear, "I will only kiss you from now on." His intimacy distracts me, destroying my defenses. Briefly, I enjoy his sugar sweet words, his flattering promise.

  Then I remember that I hate him.

  "As if I'd let you," I snap at him, carefully veiling my guilty pleasure. He seems to sense it, though, a smile stretching across his features.

  "I didn't know that you would come to love me so quickly!" he says happily, only to receive a jab in the stomach.

  "No you idiot!" I protest angrily. However, my feeble comebacks are useless against his unrelenting grin and assurance that I am in love with him.

  The lady leads us both to a tiny, narrow door. "This is where you will get your information," she directs Nico, a hint of redness still dusting her plump cheeks. With a flirty smile, she says, "I am the school nurse, Mrs. Teal. Please come to me if you ever need anything." Walking away, she deliberately sways her hips, hoping that the enticing man will watch her.

  I am ashamedly happy to say he doesn't.

  Nico grins at me, and then swings the door open so that we both can enter. The most cluttered, disorganized place I have seen in my entire life lies before me, shocking me still. "Wow," I whisper as I survey the mess: the collage of papers, staples, pens, and sticky notes that buries everything else.

  Reclining right behind the disastrous disorder is a stick-thin, rather short lady with a beehive hairdo that climbs about seven inches into the air. It is a masterpiece, reminding me slightly of those wigs in the medieval times, and rather typical of an elderly woman like her.

  Her voice is nothing short of hysterical. "Hello children," she squeaks like a mouse, her words almost indistinguishable, "how may I help you?"

  Nico once again takes the lead, leaving me cowering in his shadow. "I am new here," he informs her, flashing a smile at the minuscule, shriveled up plant that just happens to have a voice and a towering hairdo.

  Her facial expressions unchanging, she reaches down to the floor to pick up some forlorn papers. "Ah, the new student. I have your schedule in this stack... somewhere..." she comments as she places the pile in her lap. A truly monst
rous pack of papers… I wonder how she can possibly sort through all that junk.

  However, in a record time of three seconds flat, she whips out a thin sheet of paper, distributing it to Nico as we look at her in complete and total surprise. The lady glances at our faces, unblinkingly. "You need some passes, correct?" she inquires quickly, shuffling through the papers like lightning. After another blindingly fast search, she pulls out five or six passes and hands it to him.

  "Thank you, Mrs...." Nico searches the lady's clothing for a name tag, "Miss Lori." There is a slight, almost undetectable crease in her forehead as she turns to her computer, annoyance flickering in her features. We stand for a minute, and then Nico pulls on my hand. "Come on, let's go," he urges, dragging me out of the doorway.

  When we finally escape the messy room, I burst into laughter. Nico tries to compose himself, but soon he is chuckling with me. "Her voice..." I nearly moan, drowning in a fit of giggles, "her hairdo..." When the crap did I start to laugh with him? What is wrong with me?

  "Now Ella," Nico gently chastises, "let's not make fun of others..."

  "Look at you," I tease, "striving to be the perfect gentleman." I get swept into laughter, temporarily forgetting myself.

  "Shut up." In one swoop, he swings me into his arms, cradling me in his firm embrace. His arms surround me, squeezing me tightly. "I'm your gentleman," he laughs, "and I won't let you go until you admit it."

  Alarm, awareness, and pure electricity shoots through my body all at once as I realize how close he is to me. His grin is inches from mine, his breath dancing on my cheek.

  If I tilt my head towards his even slightly, I could taste his warm, fresh lips.

  Quickly I hold myself back before I give into temptation, resistance regaining. I remind myself once again that I hate him. I am not supposed to get along with this crazy, beautiful man. I stiffen, rebuilding the walls around my heart as quickly as they had fallen.

  I also notice that we are in the middle of the school hallway.