by Yara Gharios
She tilts her head and stares at me, obviously sensing the direction of my thoughts. “But?”
I sigh, resigned. “I don’t know, baby. I don’t know how much I have in common with the guy. I can’t imagine what we could talk about or how we could pass the time if you weren’t in the room with us.”
“You could ask him more about his music,” she suggests. “You must have some knowledge of it from Mickey. Maybe that could be the basis for common ground.”
I ponder for a moment. “I’ll try,” I agree.
“Good,” she grins. “What do you think it’s going to take before you really trust him?”
I shrug nonchalantly. “I don’t know,” I admit. “Maybe nothing much, maybe nothing at all. We won’t know until it’s tested.”
When we make it to the park some time later, I’m already in the mindset of getting to know John, for Zoey’s sake. We settle in one of the corners better hidden by trees and bushes. While we wait for the man of the hour to show up, she settles in my arms and snuggles close.
“Where do you want to go to college?” she asks.
I chuckle. “Let’s see whether I graduate first or not. I’m still not sure about it myself.”
“You will,” she answers with certainty. “Where would you like to go? I’ve never asked you if you’ve decided yet or not. Have you sent out any applications?”
Realizing this is a serious conversation, and she only snuggled against me to butter me up, I sober up. “A few. But I’m not thinking about any particular place.”
“Do you know what you want to study?”
I shake my head. “No clue.”
She pauses. “Well, what are you good at in school?”
I have to take a moment to think about the answer. I’ve managed to scrape by with average grades in mostly everything so far. Nevertheless, my best grades are not even that high to begin with.
“Numbers, I guess, so math,” I reply. “But even at that, I wasn’t so good. Academics were never really my forte.”
“What about non-academic things?”
“Basketball’s the only thing I’m good at.”
Shifting, Zoey looks up at me with disapproval. “You’re more than just good, Daniel, for the record, and that’s not all you’re good at.”
“Why the sudden interest in my education?” I stop her before she goes on unnecessarily defending my honor.
She sits up straight, pulling away from me in the process, to look me directly in the eye. “It’s not sudden,” she argues.
“You’ve never brought it up before,” I point out.
“It wasn’t a reality before, but now you’re graduating. Don’t you wonder what we’re going to do in our future?”
“No. I don’t want to think about being without you, or having a long-distance relationship.”
She softens a little, and puts her hand against my cheek, stroking. “I know it’s hard, but we have to at least talk about it. I want a future with you. Don’t you feel the same?”
I give her a flat look. “You know I do.”
She nods. “Then we should talk about it. It’s really not that scary. I know we can figure something out. Me, I’m going to be here for another two years. Then I’d like to go anywhere out of state, not too far, and study philosophy to be able to teach it some day. What about you? Where will you be?”
I’m surprised at how quick she is to reveal her plans. I didn’t know she had any that far ahead.
My answer is immediate. “Wherever you are.”
She smiles. “I love you for saying that. But I can’t be the thing holding you down, or your only link. Our future is together, yes, but we also have individual ones to think about. Going to college, studying something you enjoy, then working with your degree; these are good options to consider. We can always stay close together, but we need backup plans, or a starting point at least.”
Why are you fighting her on this? I ask myself. She’s right, it doesn’t have to be scary.
Putting aside my defensiveness, I consider my future seriously for the first time. “I really don’t know,” I admit. “I’ve never thought about it.”
“What do you enjoy?”
The reply is ready at the tip of my tongue. “Basketball.”
“Do you want to go pro someday?”
I was all prepared for her to take the logical approach and ask me what else I like that is realistic to achieve. Sometimes, I forget that even though she’s years wiser than her true age, Zoey is still a teenager with as much hope in dreams coming true as any. It’s exactly what I need to be the one to take the realistic approach.
“Maybe, yeah, but I have to have another option too, right? In case sports doesn’t pan out,” I remark. “So… I guess business management, or finance maybe? I might see myself there, I suppose.”
And I do. I picture myself working as a manager of some sort. Maybe not holed up permanently in an office, because I can’t imagine myself staying still that long. But I can definitely see overseas trips, while also having a family with Zoey to see the world with. Not only do I see it, I kind of like it. The tip of the iceberg would be if I were a sports team manager. For now, I let myself dream that it is possible.
Her eyes glint happily as she smiles. “That sounds good. What about a school? Where would you like to go?”
“Anywhere close to you, really. I don’t have any preferences, like Mickey.”
Zoey frowns a little at that. “Why? Where does your sister want to go?”
“A music college in Boston called Berklee.”
Suddenly, a voice somewhere behind us chimes in. “Did you say Berklee?”
Startled, both of us jump at the sound of John’s voice. At first, our reaction is simply due to him taking us off guard.
“I’m a student there,” he goes on. “When does your sister start?”
That’s when it sinks in, and we’re startled for a whole other reason. Wide-eyed, we stare at each other, silently trying to figure a way out of this mess. We take too long answering, and John senses something is wrong.
“What?” he asks doubtfully. “What did I say?”
“I-I meant to say ‘brother’ actually,” Zoey attempts to correct her mistake.
Mentally, I grimace. This only makes things worse. We can’t use the denial approach under such circumstances, because it will make John suspicious.
And of course, he questions it. “Uh, I’m pretty sure you said sister, and Danny didn’t correct you. So either you guys are playing some weird trick on me, or I’m missing something here. Which is it?”
In a second, I manage to shift from startled, to panicking, to lost. Of course, John wouldn’t know that female werewolves haven’t existed in centuries, and that my sister being one puts her in danger. What to do now?
Zoey stares at me expectantly. With her gaze, she lets me know that it’s my call, and that she’s willing to back me no matter how this turns out. Her trust in me is enough of a boost to make me determined to face this.
Alright, I think to myself, challenging. You want to see if John is trustworthy? Let’s find out.
“I have a twin sister,” I start.
“I gathered as much,” John replies sarcastically. “I mean, not about the twin part.”
“You didn’t let me finish. She’s not supposed to exist. Werewolves stopped having daughters a long time ago. We call it the pandemic.”
He straightens up, taken by surprise. “Oh.” Pause. “Why is your sister different?”
“I have no idea, but it puts her in great danger. Some of our kind would love to get their hands on her, because she has the potential to end the pandemic and create a stronger bloodline of werewolves. You can understand the need for secrecy.”
After that, I wait. Zoey is as nervous as I am, looking at her brother with a pleading look.
“I won’t tell,” he says, sounding truthful.
“I hope so,” I reply. “There’s a lot riding on her staying in the shadows
and not being exposed.”
“I’ll keep the secret, I swear it,” he repeats.
This is the moment we find out what kind of man John Brock is. If he can actually keep my sister’s secret safe, it will do wonders to my level of trust in him. From now on, I’ll need to keep a very close eye on him.
He seems to get that too, since he adds, after seeing my doubtful expression, “You can trust me. I won’t put your sister in danger.”
“For your sake, I hope that’s true.”
CHAPTER 12
Michael
Once, in the eighth grade, I made a friend on my first day after the winter break. His name was Jimmy, and he looked like one of those guys from popular boy bands, with his perfect hair, million-watt smile, cool clothes and cute face. We had bonded during music class over our fascination with instrumental music, and we even had lunch together for a couple of months.
I was so excited about having a friend that I didn’t even tell my parents about him, because I was worried they would make me stop being friends with him. I was this close to telling him all of my secrets because I was under the illusion that I was madly in love with him and that if he knew I was a girl, he would love me back.
Then came the school talent show that I wasn’t allowed to participate in, and the reaction to his performance made him soar on the popularity scale. He didn’t just have the looks of potential famous musician, he also had the talent for it. Gradually, I was marginalized from his life until he dropped me completely by the time we started ninth grade.
That was the closest I ever came to telling my secret to someone just because I wanted to and not because I had to. I have yet to have such a moment. After Jimmy, I was convinced that friends are useless and that they would all abandon you at a moment’s notice. It was part of the reason I avoided people so much. And I never again considered the possibility of revealing all my secrets to anyone.
Marianna was the first exception to that. Sadie was the second. Being in the same room as both of them right now feels as surreal as I hoped it wouldn’t be. Marianna’s only been at the house for an hour and Sadie hasn’t stopped interrogating her. If it wasn’t for the fact that they both keep throwing glances at me and winking occasionally when something funny comes up, I would have thought they forgot I was even in the room and that I should give them some privacy.
“But you must have had moments of weakness where you couldn’t stop yourself from saying anything,” Sadie insists.
Putting my head in my palm and resting my elbow against my knee, I sigh, already knowing the answer to that. Although I am dying to tell Marianna everything that’s happened in her absence, I can’t help being amused by Sadie’s persistence and Marianna’s calm but amused responses.
“No, I haven’t,” she assures the enthusiastic girl. “Who would I need to tell? I stayed with her family whenever I was here, and I don’t know anyone who might care to know.”
“What about your parents?” Sadie continues.
I get the feeling she’s trying to justify almost getting me caught numerous times by proving that it’s normal, and that even the wonderful Marianna could have done it. She’s not getting much success so far, really. It’s kind of tragic how much she keeps pushing. But at the same time, it’s entertaining to watch her try.
“What about them?” Marianna asks.
“You must have felt guilty about lying to them, at least.”
“Of course,” she confirms. “But I was still very careful in steering the conversation away when they bring Dylan up, which was very rare because all they talk about is Mason. That’s all I talk about, anyway. They even got to a point where they can repeat my words when I say how much I love him before I even realize that I’m talking about him.”
This is what she means about steering the conversation away from me, I think to myself with pride.
Sadie can’t help smiling at this, finding something which they actually do have in common. “Yeah, isn’t it great being a werewolf’s mate?”
Stab to the heart.
Simultaneously, they wince and turn to stare at me. So much for Marianna steering the conversation away from me. Their sympathy is not something I want to dwell on, because I’m done letting this black hole suck me back into the state I was in not so long ago. Instead, I opt for a smile and a shake of the head.
“Couldn’t resist adding that, could you, Sadie?” I tease.
“Sorry, Dyl, I don’t know why that slipped out,” she sincerely says. “See what I meant? You must have had moments like this, right?”
The question is directed at Marianna. I await her answer, because I know it’s going to be a confirmation this time, but she remains quiet. When I look at her to see why, I find her staring at me with a blank expression on her face.
“Tell me everything,” she requests, but there’s nothing demanding in her voice.
About time, I think with mixed feelings of relief and anxiety.
And I do. I relay everything to her exactly the way I told my family and friends last week. She takes it in much more calmly, I’m guessing because Mason gave her a heads up before they came here. It doesn’t surprise her that Logan is my mate, and again I sense that Mason told her at least part of it while leaving the bigger part for me. When I am done, she sighs and rubs three fingers over her forehead.
“Je voulais que tu trouves l’amour, mais pas comme ça,” she mumbles in French.
I don’t understand a word of it, naturally, aside from ‘love’. Neither does Sadie, judging from the look on her face.
“What?” she asks curiously.
“I said that I wanted her to find love, but not like this,” Marianna explains, looking sad.
Confused, I frown. “What are you talking about, find love?”
“Exactly as I said,” she asserts. “I’ve always known something like this would happen, that you would fall in love. I also knew that it would hurt you at some point. But I always had hope that it would be what set you free.”
I don’t even know where to start responding to that. My initial instinct is to deny that I’m in love, because that’s the first thing that registers in my mind. The others follow in a chain of thought that I have no control over.
She knew this would happen? She knew it would hurt? She hoped it would set me free? What does she mean by all this?
“You lost me,” I declare.
“Me too,” Sadie seconds in a small voice.
Marianna sighs again and stares at us with a contemplative look on her face for a moment before she speaks again. “Before I explain it to you, I’m going to tell you something that I’m sure Mason doesn’t even remember completely,” she announces. “You need to know this.”
My interest peaked, I sit up straight and lean back against the desk chair I’m sitting on. It’s a good thing Sadie thought to lead us to Logan’s office to have this conversation, or else everything we just said as well as whatever secret Marianna has to share would have been heard.
CHAPTER 13
Marianna
For the most part, I liked my job at the bar. It wasn’t too hard, except on rush hour. It was true that the patrons could be intolerable at times, especially when they were rudely hitting on the staff. But I knew how to handle them, and I could let it slide as one single negative aspect of my job that was overshadowed by the positives.
However, I really wished that Gautier, my boss, would let me handle the bar every once in a while, instead of just putting me as waitress. Aside from knowing how to pour every drink we had on the menu, I was a psychology student. The confessions that a bartender could receive in one day’s work would be great practice for me.
Tonight was my lucky night, because for the first time, he let me behind the bar. I had to spend a half hour serving people’s drinks while under his hawk eyes, but I managed just fine because I was enjoying it. I was almost as fast as our regular bartender, Theo, who had called in for a day off this evening because his girlfriend was in labor.
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“Marianna,” Elise, one of the other waitresses, who was also my roommate, called my name.
I flipped the shaker over the customer’s cup and poured his Jamaica drink in both before turning around to look at Elise. She was standing to my right, at the edge of the bar, leaning forward so she could talk to me without anyone hearing.
“C’est lui, il est revenu,” she said with an expression that anticipated my displeasure.
It’s him? He’s back? I thought to myself, my brief joy at making a perfect drink for a satisfied customer slightly dampened.
For the past week, two American brothers have been coming in and spending their nights here, until they found girls willing to keep them company. Although they were young, as far as I could tell, seventeen, perhaps eighteen, they looked suspiciously younger. Yet for some reason, Theo never carded them before, and they always ordered something they possibly shouldn’t be drinking. They were twins, and I had to admit they were attractive on the outside. But I didn’t find such attractive features in their behavior.
I could tell them apart from the way they talked and acted. One of them was always already with a girl under his arm when they walked in, and his jokes were heavy with insulting innuendos that disgusted me. The other one was charismatic, he talked to everyone and was cheerful about most of everything. But he still basked in the attention he would receive from the numerous patrons and staff alike. Once the drinks kicked in, he would become as idiotic as his brother.
Right now, they were each with a different girl. The overachiever was already making out with his, and the cheerful one seemed much drunker than he usually was at this point in the night. I’d gotten used to their rituals, and knew almost every move they were going to make before they made it. However, I sensed a difference in the charismatic one tonight. I predicted a different ending for him.