Change For Me (Werewolf Romance) (The Alpha's Kiss)

by Lynn Red

  Table of Contents

  The Alpha’s Kiss | Change for Me

  Change for Me

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six | Damon

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen | Damon

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen | Damon

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

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  The Alpha’s Kiss

  Change for Me

  Coming of Age Werewolf Romance

  by

  Lynn Red

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  Change for Me

  Graduation came way, way too early.

  Of course, none of us thought so...

  We thought we were ready. Ready to get out and make our ways in the world, to try to be grownups and do whatever it was grownups did. But most of all, about ninety-five percent of us were just ready to get the hell out of Fort Branch. This little town, on the intersection of Nothing, Arizona and Nowhere, Arizona, was just holding us all back.

  The guy talking at the podium, some speaker that I guess the principal of our school knew had been going on for what seemed like the glimpse of eternity you see when you fall off the edge of a black hole. Right before you get sucked down to the middle and turn into spaghetti, pulled apart to your atoms – that’s about what it felt like.

  Looking around the tiny auditorium, there were at least four people with faces in various stages of irritation. Beside me, I recognized get-me-the-hell-out-of-here on Aaron Critten’s face. Aaron had been my boyfriend for about a month. It was freshman year when we got together, so it wasn’t anything interesting, but still, he was a nice guy.

  Next to him sat Caitlyn Hodges, who was proudly wearing her this-place-is-a-mile-beneath-me look, which had come into vogue the instant she got accepted to Harvard. The attitude made sense, I mean, Fort Branch in the wilds of northern Arizona, half desert and half forest with the weird bottom part of a mountain chain isn’t exactly Cambridge. Still, it got old seeing that scowl on her face for most of the last two years we were in school.

  Come to think of it, those two words – tiresome, but understandable – explain a lot about this place.

  About four seats down from Caitlyn was her boyfriend, Devin Cline. Devin’s the guy who can win any girl’s heart with about four seconds of a glance. But even he, even unflappable Devin with the dimples, Devin who drives a motorcycle and parks it in the teacher’s parking lot sometimes, he even had a look. I couldn’t decide exactly what it was, but I thought it was somewhere between I-drank-too-many-screwdrivers-at-the-party and what-the-hell-happens-now?

  Rocking back and forth behind the podium, our guest speaker bellowed, “And that is the whole crux of life, isn’t it? Following passion, making a difference. A real difference.” He only distracted me from looking around for a second.

  Sitting here, in this basketball gym, it was hard to process my actual feelings. Yeah, I wanted out of town, of course I did, but there was a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that there was nowhere for me to go. It was easier to keep that stuff at arms’ length.

  Trying to distract myself from reality, I looked back to Cat and Devin. I never liked Devin. Not really. He seemed always to be just a little too far off the edge. Don’t get me wrong – yeah, he’s hot and he’s got the muscles and the attitude and everything, but he’s just so, I don’t know, loud? He’s got a real unchained id thing going on, and I just can’t keep up with that type

  “Wake up to your true calling!” the speaker said, taking a moment to wipe a drip of sweat off his cheek. “Life is hard and long and you can either fight for what you want, or you can shrink down, afraid to do what’s right.”

  The collective eye roll was almost audible.

  Oh, and two rows up from Devin was Craig Willis, the single guy in our school who both really seemed like he fit in with Fort Branch, and who I actually liked. He’s got a big beard, always wears plaid shirts over his big belly and huge, like, impossibly huge arms. One of the jokes is that he spends his off-time from the football team practicing by tackling trees. I’d almost believe it if I didn’t know how much of a hippie he was.

  Craig had his patented I-wish-my-beard-covered-my-whole-face-so-I-could-sleep look. This involved one closed eye and one open one with a cocked eyebrow over top. Also, he usually had his massive arms crossed over his chest, and his head resting on his beard. He looked a little like a turtle, but when he saw me looking his way, he shot me a glance. I puckered my lips, pulled them back over my teeth, and made a sucking sound that was maybe just a little louder than I thought.

  Everyone. Turned. And. Looked.

  And I mean everyone. Every single head in that tiny little auditorium turned and stared at me at the same time. Though a few of them seemed relieved that my teeth sucking had made the guy on the stand be quiet for a second.

  The only face that wasn’t on me is the one I wished was. But Damon King, the one who got away, was nowhere to be found. Of the boys I dated through high school, he was the one who was the least like a high school boy. Stubble was growing on his jaw by the start of freshman year, and he’s got this long, wavy, dark brown hair that’s either in a ponytail or falling around his shoulders. Damon’s bigger than a high school guy has any right to be, but he never got into sports.

  Aside from that, Damon’s a strong, chronically silent kind of guy.

  Spends his time fixing motorcycles and being stoic. We were together for a year, almost all of sophomore year then through the summer, and every single move was mine. I asked him out in the first place, I kissed him first, everything.

  Our relationship was a long stretch of me trying desperately to get him to like me as much as I did him. Every now and then, his shell would crack, and he’d do something just incredible – like the time I went into a really bad place over my parents, and he took a week away from school just to sit in my room with me.

  But then, days later, he was back to normal. Eventually it just got to be too much up and down and I called it quits.

  Podium guy broke into my consciousness again with a loud, fake laugh. “Am I up here for fun? Am I up here just to have attention and feel important? No! I’m up here because I believe in the class of double-aught-eight!”

  I shook my head.

  Okay, wait a minute. Back up, back up, back up. If this were a movie, the film would screech and get all spotty and then go in reverse before a montage played with some cheesy music laid over it. Probably ‘Working for the Weekend’. I think I should probably explain a few things. Graduations are usually huge, right? Big basketball arenas full of people staring around and falling asleep.

  Yeah, sure, that’s pretty much what they’re like. In any normal place, that’s true. Fort Branch though, isn’t anything remotely approaching normal. This town used to be a military town; an Army town, actually, back in the ancient days before I was born.

  When the base closed, most everyone – almost all of them veterans – moved away. There really wasn’t any reason to stay unless you worked in one of the desert vineyards a half-hour out of town, or unless you didn’t have anywhere else to go. My parents were
in the second category.

  My grandpa and grandma moved here when the base opened. He worked as a mechanic for pretty much his whole life, until he managed to save enough to call it quits, and never wanted to leave. He likes it here.

  The few, the proud... no, nevermind.

  Long story short, my parents were gone and I lived with Grandpa Joe. We took care of each other. He was smart and wise and way stronger than I could ever be so when I’d have my intermittent breakdowns, Grandpa Joe helped me get over them. As for my part, I made him feel young. That’s what he said, anyway. He always got these funny looks on his face when I got in trouble, like me having a hangover the first time I drank two entire Bartles & Jaymes wine coolers.

  But as much as I liked him, and as pretty as this place is, I never wanted much more than to leave it behind. Not even in a realistic way, either. I didn’t have any job prospects or dreams of marrying wealthy. I just had the vague idea that leaving was what I was supposed to do.

  “And that! That is what you will do, class of two-thousand-eight, is just what you’re going to do. Go forth, and conquer!” The man behind the podium slammed his hand on it so hard his toupee flopped a little. Aside from comic relief, the banging also woke everyone up. All fifty-six of us started awake from our stupors all at the same time.

  Noticing that no one was applauding yet, he repeated his closing line. The second time, it was more clear what we were supposed to do, and in a great act of mercy, the students began to clap, and the guests who sat in metal folding chairs in mismatched rows around us joined in a few seconds later.

  As soon as the hats were thrown, and waves were made, Aaron Critten got my attention.

  “You coming to the party tonight? Someone rented out that old barn on the edge town for the night, and supposedly, after graduations, cops never go out that way. They just let us run wild. I’m sure there’s gonna be all kinds of...”

  Beer, pot and groping is probably what he meant to say, but really, he was right to stop. If anything could get me to not bother with a party faster than the promise of drinking a bunch of beer and smoking with the same people with who I spent most every day of my formative years, I haven’t found it yet.

  “Uh, no,” I said with a grin. “You?”

  “May as well,” he said. “Can’t think of much else I should be doing. Say, did you hear about Paul?”

  Paul Cates, I guess he meant. Paul was kind of a prick, but the funny kind. He was another of my short-lived boyfriends.

  Aside from Damon and Paul the last of them, and most recent, was Aiden Mayfield, a dreamy-eyed guy who moved here from California in junior year. He was the opposite of Damon in every way, and the reason we broke up is because where Damon went too slow all the time, Aiden went too fast.

  “No, what happened?” I asked absently. “Did he get hit by a bus or something?”

  “Yes. It was horrible. Brains all over the street.”

  My mouth slammed shut. “Holy shit, are you serious?”

  “No, Lily, no I am not.” He got one of those half-grin things on his face.

  I hit him square in the stomach. “You’re a real dick, you know that? Jesus, Aaron!”

  “You shoulda seen the look on your face!”

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” I pursed my lips. “Anyway, no, what happened to him? Couldn’t have been anything bad because he’s right over there,” I turned and waved to Paul, “you asshole.”

  Aaron was still laughing. “Oh it’s pretty bad. Nothing quite that dramatic though, as getting hit by a bus. Oh my God, the look you had!”

  My eyes fixed on Aaron’s forehead. Briefly, I tried to bore my way through with laser beams, but that didn’t work out.

  “Anyway, no,” he said, finally getting ahold of himself. “His parents found a bunch of pot in his drawers. Apparently, his dad was so pissed he threw the, uh... whatever that stuff is he messes with all the time, uh –”

  “Clay? You do have a whole brain, right? Aaron, sometimes I swear...”

  “Disconnected hemispheres,” he said. “I’m mortified that you’d make fun of my crippling injury. Or maybe I was just... Caitlyn might be basically the most obnoxious girl on the planet, but that ass –”

  “Anyway, pervert, what is it?”

  “Sorry,” he said, looking back at me. “Yeah, his old man threw all that clay out, including everything that was waiting to get baked. Or kilned, or whatever you call it.”

  I shook my head. “That’s awful, but why are you telling me this? He doesn’t look that upset.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Of course he doesn’t. He’s high. So you’re not coming to the party later?”

  We had already started to drift apart, Aaron slowly backing away and obviously waiting for a response before he turned and talked to someone else. “No,” I said. “I think I’m gonna stay in tonight. Not really my scene, you know?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I get you. Listen, call me, okay? I’m not leaving for Arizona State until like the day before class starts, so you better not be a stranger. You get lost out there at your grandpa’s place and no one hears from you for months at a time.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Sure, I’ll call.”

  “Leroy!” It was my grandpa, beaming and walking toward me with open arms. It was like he’d never seen anyone graduate before. “Leroy, come here and give me a hug. God, I’m so proud of you, little girl!”

  He told me he calls me Leroy because that’s what I was going to be named, except I turned out to be a girl on accident. I’m pretty sure reality is just that it’s a Grandpa thing. Still, hearing it made me feel safe, like I was home.

  I sniffled when he pulled me tight. Even though he’s about as old as most of the mountains around here, Grandpa Joe’s still tall and strong enough to surprise me every single time he jerks me in close with one of his bear hugs. “Thanks, Grandpa,” I said, my nose stuffed against his sweater.

  “Going to that big party at the barn tonight? I expect you’ll want a ride, especially if you plan to tip back a half of a wine cooler. Or,” he narrowed his eyes so that they almost disappeared beneath his heavy eyebrows, “a whole one?”

  “Ah, no,” I said with a grin. “Aaron wanted me to go, but... Sorry, no, Aaron asked, but I dunno, I don’t think I want to do anything. I’m just not really feeling that sort of—”

  “Say no more, Leroy.” He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, squeezing my arm. “To the house it is. We can order in.”

  “We can?”

  “Oh, well I suppose that pizza place closed, didn’t it?”

  “Yeah, about six years ago? Maybe seven?”

  I hooked my arm around his and lay my head on his shoulder. Parties aren’t for me, not at all. Neither is uncertainty or confusion about boys or fear about what I’m supposed to be doing with my life.

  Once again, I couldn’t help but think about Damon and his stoic, cold-but-somehow-caring looks. I never really got over him, I don’t think, but he made it clear he wasn’t interested. Or maybe I had just been over-sensitive about his android-like attempts to talk about feelings?

  Grandpa grunted a laugh. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to figure something else out. Oh will you listen to me? I’m just rambling along. It’s your big day, Leroy, what do you want to do?”

  The school gym had more or less emptied out by then, just a handful of them, none of whom I was ever close to, were still around. Ollie, the kid who juggles, was over with his parents, and Aly Smith had the bridge nose pinched between her fingertips to stave off what was almost certainly another in a long series of fake headaches.

  Still no sign of Damon, though.

  “Hey, Grandpa?” I turned back to him. “Did you ever see Damon?”

  “Oh, uh... remind me. He’s the big one, right? Real tall guy with the hair that went halfway down his back? That kind of muscled...”

  “Yeah, you used to call him ‘meathead Donnie’.” I couldn’t help but laugh a little, despite never actually getting that joke. �
��Real tall, black hair, dark eyes, and –”

  A light flickered in his eyes. “Oh yeah, sure, sure, yeah. Meathead Donnie. You dated him for almost a year, huh? No, didn’t see him. Hope everything’s okay.” Even though grandpa pretended he didn’t remember, he always liked Damon. The two of them got along probably better than Damon and I did, from how they’d sit up talking.

  That hung between us, heavy in the air for a second before Grandpa spoke up again. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. How about that deli across the square from the jail? Want to go there?”

  That’s another thing about Fort Branch. Everything is measured by its proximity to the town jail, which also serves as the courthouse and offices for the county sheriff, the mayor and all the other ‘city importants’ as Grandpa Joe calls them.

  “That’s it? You graduate high school and all you want is a sandwich?”

  I grinned. “I don’t know if I’d call a Reuben with a fried egg, grape jelly, coleslaw, horseradish and garlic juice just a sandwich.”

  The scrunched nose and curled lip that I got at mentioning my regular favorite was absolutely priceless and at least half the reason I never got anything different.

  “Yeah, I’d say I wouldn’t call that a sandwich either, but... well, it’s your stomach, I guess.”

  One of the ushers, who also happened to be my science teacher and the coach of both the girls’ volleyball and the baseball team, waved to us from the door. “Time to go, folks!” he said. “We gotta clean this place up. Only rented it out for the morning.”

  “Well there you go,” Grandpa said. “We better do what he says, or we’ll be running laps.”

  I giggled. “Yeah, or doing worksheets. So, the deli and then, how do you feel about a movie? There’s one of those new blow-up-everything movies you like so much.”

  Grandpa furrowed his fuzzy eyebrows. “Now, Leroy, let’s not pretend I’m the only one who enjoys cartoon violence and muscled up men screaming at each other.”

  He never failed to get me smiling. Everything around me was changing, and in a way, felt like it was leaving me behind, no matter how hard I tried to pretend it didn’t bother me.