To Kiss a Werewolf

by Molly Snow

  “Yeah, I’m excited.”

  They talked for the next couple hours. Or rather, Kit rambled and Stella gave an appropriate yeah or uh huh here and there, until sleep finally came. Only her dreams wouldn’t let her rest…

  ~~~

  “Come on, Billy. We’re just not right for each other.” Stella crossed her arms and glanced over her shoulder at her school. She just wanted to walk back to class. She just wanted a normal life with normal relationships that other sixteen-year-old girls had.

  “But I don’t believe you mean that. I don’t believe you want this to be over.” He showed her the bottom of a wrist. There was a tattoo of a heart with her name. “I got this last night for you, to show you how much I am devoted to you.” He clenched his hand into a tight fist and the heart bulged. He did that over and over, and said, “Look at that. It’s beating for you.”

  “That’s really… strange.” She looked back to his sculpted face. How shallow she had been. Looks obviously weren’t everything.

  “Are you still having a hard time coping with… with what I do? Because, with time, it might not seem so bad. And I’ll never ask you to join me. I would never want you to join me.”

  Stella felt like throwing up. Yeah, no way would that ever happen. “I could never do what you do.”

  “Well, that’s fine, Stella. Be who you want to be. I’ll support you. You know I’m not like other guys. I don’t expect you to just give up your dreams to be with me. And from the beginning, I’ve mostly been in love with you for your brains.”

  “The age difference is something else, Billy. You lied about everything. Everything that I thought you were, you’re not.”

  “Yes, I know I am a lot older than you. That is something else that won’t feel bad with time.”

  Stella didn’t respond. She just glanced back over her shoulder to her school again. How could she make it any more clear that she really was breaking up with him? He stayed there, staring at her, waiting. His head finally dropped into a hand. Was he crying? When he looked back up, there was no redness to his eyes, no tears. His eyes then fixed on her hands. “Why are you wearing black fingernail polish?”

  What kind of a question was that? Her eyebrows furrowed, and she said, “I wanted to. I like it.”

  “You like black fingernail polish?” His nose twitched in disgust. “It looks like you have a fungus problem. It makes me want to take you to a doctor or something.”

  “Well, I think it’s cool. Yet, another thing we don’t have in common.” She was pleased with her comeback.

  “Your favorite color is pink. Pink is a nice, healthy-looking color for nails. I can pick up some polish remover for you at Walgreens, and a pretty bottle of pink nail polish. Tonight I’ll swing by your place with it, okay, my love? And we can talk more then.”

  “That’s not necessary. We’re over, Billy. …And I have to get to class now, or I’ll be late.” She rigidly pointed.

  “Forget about the nail polish.” His eyebrows raised, and he gestured as if he were afraid of what he had said. As if that was the deal-breaker. “Just tell me your favorite color rose.”

  She shook her head and turned away from him, starting back toward science class. One foot in front of the other. Further and further away. After nearly reaching her destination, she heard a call from afar, “What color rose, Stella?!”

  Frustrated with his attempts, she turned around and yelled, “Black!”

  ~~~

  EIGHT

  Thud-thud-thud! The rapid knock at the bedroom door felt more like a jackhammer to the head. Stella opened her eyes to a blurry world. “Rise and shine!” Caleb’s muffled voice called. “Time for an ab-para-normal day!”

  Vision became clearer. She could see Kit open the door to Caleb, completely dressed and ready for the day. “You could have let her sleep some more,” Kit said.

  “Sleep in? On the first day of the field trip she coordinated? Psha! No.” He came over to Stella’s bedside in his skinny jeans, and wiped a hand through his floppy hairdo. “Stella, you would regret it if I let you miss another minute of this trip.”

  That made her smile. “Thanks for being my rooster.”

  He sat on her bed, and proceeded to explain all the possible activities the others had already discussed during breakfast. Apparently it was past eleven. As he talked, his hands moved in quick motions. Always so dramatic. She smiled again, and her eyes caught on his chipped black nail polish. It felt good to have such good friends to wake her from a funk.

  Everyone was waiting by the front door by the time Stella finally got out of the bathroom. She blinked a few times at herself in a hallway mirror and forced a smile, actually feeling better by it. “So, what’s the plan?” she asked them.

  Maggie spoke up first, of course. “We’re going to go take a hike through the woods, tracking footprints. Four of us heard howls last night, and think it could be a werewolf.”

  “A werewolf?” Stella repeated. That hadn’t even crossed her mind, even after almost finishing her romance before the trip.

  Gordon nodded enthusiastically. “Plus Bigfoot has been known to howl, so it could be him.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes to that. “Gawl, Gordon. There is only one Bigfoot, right? Well, by what you believe anyway, right?”

  “Yeah, so…?”

  “So, you think he hopped a train or something and just happened to travel to the same bed and breakfast locale we’re staying at? As if that is feasible or something?”

  He shrugged, looking deflated. “I guess it’s not really feasible.”

  “Alright, then,” Maggie turned the doorknob to exit, “let’s go find werewolves.”

  *

  They walked for three miles, before Maggie hunched over and grabbed her knees from over-exertion. “Woo! I am… tired. Anybody bring a water bottle with them?”

  Caleb flung his backpack off a shoulder, unzipped it and tossed her a Mountain Dew.

  “Okay, I’ll take it.” Maggie accepted, gulping it down, some dribbling down her chin.

  “Wait, what’s that?” Kit pointed next to a large rock.

  Everyone’s sights left exhausted and sweaty Maggie to check it out. Stella’s eyebrows went up at the peculiarity of it. A definite footprint. Large, with nail marks. “There’s another.” She pointed past it.

  “Well, Gordon,” Maggie said. “What are you waiting for? Turn on the scanner and hover over it. See if it senses anything.”

  As Gordon flicked his machine’s switch, Caleb shot some photos. With everyone hunched over, watching the scanner with expectant eyes, it was a big let down when no sounds went off. He flicked the switch a couple more times with the same results. Nothing.

  “That’s it then,” Maggie said. “Either the animal isn’t paranormal or Gordon’s machine is broken.”

  “It’s not broken,” he said.

  “Where’d you buy it?” Caleb asked.

  “I didn’t buy it. I made it. I got the pieces and built it.”

  “Well, that explains it,” Maggie said.

  “What are you talking about? My IQ score rates me as a genius. I build computers in my bedroom. I am a solid-state laser enthusiast. George Lucas gave me a personal invitation to his ranch.”

  Maggie looked at her nails as if bored.

  Red-faced, Gordon pushed up his glasses and said, “I’m the first teenager who has been in space!”

  “Monkeys have gone to space, so…” Maggie went to chug the rest of her Mountain Dew, but Gordon whapped the bottle, spilling the rest of it down her chest.

  “What was that about?” Blustered, she turned to the rest and asked, “May I have permission to snap him in two?”

  Gordon put his hands and a foot up in a grasshopper pose. “Black belt in Karate. Try me!”

  “Guys, guys!” Kit said, and Caleb and the others tried mellowing them out.

  Stella raised her voice above the rest. This couldn’t really be happening. “Do not do this!”

  Everyone s
topped and looked at her.

  She finished, “Do not act like this. Not here. Not now. Don’t ruin it for me. I am already having a hard time on this trip.”

  Kit’s expression lit up like it made sense. “I knew something was wrong.” She turned to the others, defensive. “You heard her. Everyone needs to shut up and get along. What’s wrong, Stella?”

  Oh no, Stella knew she started it, but when cornered, she felt more like retreating than opening up. Someday she may tell Kit. If she did, it certainly wouldn’t be in front of the PAA in the middle of the woods, with Maggie around, or whomever. Instead of answering, she wiped her hair behind her ears and said, “It’s fine. Let’s just, like, head to the beach.”

  *

  Stella found it funny how when Gordon brought out a metal detector for the beach, everyone suddenly perked up again. All, including Maggie, followed him around like a bunch of puppies squeeing over anything that beeped, even if it most likely was another bottle cap.

  Stella broke away from the group, without any of them even noticing, and just walked her bare feet along the wet shore, feeling the surf wrap around her ankles. It was pretty nice. After walking for quite a ways, she turned toward the ocean and just looked out to its vastness, with her sunglasses on. It was awe-inspiring, yet at the same time reminded her how fragile she was. One girl in a big, big world, vulnerable to forces outside her control. It made her think of Billy, and she hated how he could assault her thoughts, ruin a moment like this.

  When she turned back to face the beach, she saw something red peeking up over a cluster of large rocks. Curious, she went toward it. It was a surf board, and it reflected sunlight, making her squint. She carefully walked up and around the rocks to the other side to get a full view. Something else instantly caught her attention. The surfboard was just a surfboard. Faced down on the ground, though, was a guy.

  He didn’t move, but neither did Stella, as her hands were over her mouth in surprise over her discovery. His muscular, tanned and sand-sprinkled back moved with breaths. Dark hair was in a sea-swept, sexy mess. She didn’t see a face, as his head rested in the other direction. But, holy hotness, he was fine.

  She stepped closer, keeping her hands to her face, and her thoughts on math—she was trying to guess how many inches across his muscular shoulders were from one end to the other. Stella, she warned, you’ve learned your lesson. You do not drool over guys just for their looks. Still, she came closer, and stood over him to properly inspect.

  Yellow board shorts hung low on his waist, showing off a tattoo that not only caught her attention but her breath. Alright, this was permission. This was definitely permission to get giddy at first sight. She couldn’t believe she stumbled upon a guy who not only looked like a god sunbathing, but was a fan of her favorite band ever.

  NINE

  Damien opened his eyes, squinting at the sunlight through his bangs. The sand was warm on his skin, but, man, he ached all over. How long had he surfed? He never remembered it being so amazing. He rolled himself over into a stretch, and was surprised to see Stella standing beside him. She was obviously surprised too, looking like she was about to run off. “Hey,” he said before she had the chance to.

  “It’s-it’s you.” She gulped, and left her mouth open like she was going to say something more but didn’t.

  “Yeah, I made it. I’m here.” He leaned back on his elbows, feeling every muscle scream like they were repairing after a major bench-pressing session. “Ahhh,” he moaned and winced.

  “You’re hurt,” she said. “Your shoulder.”

  He looked down and saw the scratches from being taken under the water and slammed against some rocks. It didn’t look so bad. “It’s just a scrape,” he said. “The water was so amazing last night.”

  “You spent the night out here?”

  “Yeah, I pulled in after midnight, so it was an easy choice.” Could this be the start of their first normal conversation? He liked it and wanted to continue things without screwing up again. Plus Stella was wearing a swimsuit and looking better than ever. It was a modest one-piece, but actually made her look sexier than the girls back home flaunting themselves in bikinis. He made a conscious effort to keep his eyes on the up-and-up, looking to her face in spite of his urges.

  “What have you all done here so far?” he asked.

  She rubbed at an arm and looked far off, before answering, “Not much really. You haven’t missed anything.” Although Damien knew he was doing a good job at keeping his eyes where they should be, Stella was obviously having trouble. It made him think of the night she came into his uncle’s pizzeria and wrapped her eyes around his bicep.

  Feeling more confident, he smiled and looked down at his chest. Uh oh, he had forgotten about those. Chest hairs. His chest wasn’t as hairy as Austin Powers’, but still, it was embarrassing. Stella was probably repulsed. “Um, about that…”

  “What?”

  “My chest hair.”

  “Did I say anything?” Stella blinked a few times.

  Damien finished, “I’ve just been having growth spurts lately.”

  Her eyes scanned his entire body this time. “I could tell. I mean, you’re just a lot stronger than other guys your age. What I mean to say is… never mind. This is getting embarrassing again, and my friends are just back around there, and I should head back.”

  Smooth move, he scolded himself, and stood up. “Stella…” He had to just say something, anything, to repair whatever had been going on between them. “I want this trip to be fun for you. This is your thing, and I’ve kind of intruded on that.”

  Bingo, that got her attention. She stood there, listening.

  “The truth is that I really do want to learn as much as I can about werewolves. I can keep my distance from you, if it helps. I don’t want this to be any more awkward for you, but I do want to talk with your group, hang out and just learn and be. Is… that alright with you…? I hope?”

  Her expression softened, and she bit at her lip a moment, thoughtfully nodding. “It’s… okay, Damien. If you’re a fan of the Deathheads, you can’t be too bad.”

  He raised his brows. So they had turned a corner. This was good. Really good. But now wouldn’t be the time, if ever, to admit the tattoo was a mistake.

  Stella’s expression suddenly switched to worry. She pointed next to him, at a trail of big footprints, eroded a bit from the surf. “Those are the same prints we saw in the woods up there. A wolf. It looks like he came right up to you when you slept.”

  “Oh yeah?” Damien said, eyeing them. Of course he knew they were his own footprints as a werewolf. “It looks like I’m okay,” he said to lighten the mood. He didn’t remember roaming around the wooded areas, just the beach, so that tidbit was strange. More blacking out?

  Stella crossed her arms tight over her stomach. “That’s… really scary. Be careful.”

  *

  Back at the bed and breakfast for a late lunch, Mrs. Partridge wasn’t seen or heard from. Stella found a note on the kitchen’s swinging door, and read it aloud: “Won’t be back until late tonight. Use the kitchen all you want, but remember my room is off limits!”

  Damien was taking a shower. Everyone else was standing around not knowing what to do with themselves.

  “Isn’t she supposed to cook every night? That was what it said in our booking contract!” Maggie slumped onto a chair in the flowery formal room. “How could she just leave us here, a bunch of teenagers to fend for ourselves. Unless she has some Lucky Charms or frozen burritos, we are doomed.”

  Caleb rummaged through his pockets and said, “I have half a beef jerky stick, and a couple Tic Tacs.”

  “Beef jerky, please.” Maggie put out a hand.

  Kit came right over to Stella and said with a low, sarcastic tone, “So he made it here. Yay…”

  Stella cocked an eyebrow and started for their bedroom. “Come with me,” she said.

  Once in the privacy of their room, Stella changed out of her swimsuit and int
o some normal clothes right away. Buttoning her jeans, she said, “Did you see Damien’s tattoo?”

  “Yeah, I did. I mean, how can you miss it? It is, like, right there, on his lower back. He must be obsessed with the same band you are, to have their logo permanently inked into his skin.”

  “I know, isn’t that strange?” Stella’s eyes widened.

  “Yes, that is very, very strange. It’s so not what I expected to see from him.”

  Stella took her brush off the dresser and combed through her long strands in thought. “Me neither. I also didn’t expect him to be a paranormal addict, but he told me that he really is here to learn more about werewolves. He seemed really sincere about it. Damien Capernalli is a paranormal addict and Deathheads fanatic. I wonder what other little tidbits I can learn about him.”

  “Oh my gosh, what is happening? He is a player, and that’s all you need to know.” Kit put her hands up. “What is happening? Tell me now. I have to know. You like Damien?”

  No…, things hadn’t gone that far, but what exactly was happening? “Kit, all I am is intrigued. I realize I have been overly judgmental, and that really sucks. What do we really know about him? I mean, really know. Not what rumors say, not second-hand stuff. What do we actually know?”

  “Well…” Kit put her hands back to her hips and sputtered with nothing coming out. For the first time since Stella met her best friend, she was speechless.

  Stella answered for her. “Nothing. We don’t know anything, except that he’s also fairly new to school, works at the pizzeria, and goes to school with us.” A whole new concept was opening up to Stella. Damien Capernalli was a complete stranger. And, okay, she let her thoughts lead to where they’d always wanted to go—he was a completely sexy stranger.

  “We know he is the most popular guy in all of Shoreline High. He was prom king, for Pete’s sake. And is MVP of every sport he plays. I thought jocks were so not your thing, Stella. I thought you and I were going to fulfill our dreams of finding boyfriends like Johnny Depp, not someone like him.”

  “Kit, please. The other day you told me not to be so shallow. With my last boyfriend I had been so shallow, dating him for his looks and his status alone. With Damien, there is more than meets the eye.”

  “Alright, then. If this is how you feel, I’ll support you in it, because that’s what best friends do and all.” She then pressed a hand against her chest. “Did you see all his chest hair? Whoa, it’s like he isn’t in high school anymore.”