Markings, p.15
Markings, page 15
My strange high continued through lunch, but mellowed out as the day went on. I wondered where it had come from, and if my going blonde had something to do with it. It must be feline-related, I decided as I ate at my usual table outside. Kat was gone again today, and I was sort of glad. I didn’t need her comments on the new me when I couldn’t decide what I thought myself.
The old Celina was clearly invisible, because my sharp ears kept picking up rumors about the “weird new girl.” In History class, Margie Leplee said I was from New York, because my boots were BCBG limited-editions sold only on the east coast last year and only to private parties. This rumor led to one about me being filthy rich and living in a mansion somewhere in the country.
Coming home after school to change for the shelter, I had difficulty parting with my beautiful attire. I’d done such a good job of putting pieces together—why ruin such a model-worthy ensemble? I looked so good. But a hot flash was running through eastern Oregon, and I was already roasting my butt off. Plus, this wasn’t animal-rescue clothing.
I hunted down another lovely yet workable outfit. In the closet, a low-cut, black shirt with the word MEOW spelled in rhinestones turned up. On the hanger behind it, a pair of short silver shorts.
I giggled. Purr-fection.
Twenty minutes later, I showed up at the shelter in my new outfit and a pair of no-heel slouch boots. Brendon lounged behind the front desk, magazine in hand. He was sipping an open Coke when he tilted his head to look at me. He choked, spitting soda across his computer screen.
“Holy—oh my—Lina?” he said between coughs.
“Hey, hey.” Sitting down, I pushed my purse to the side of the counter and sniffed the air. The gang’s scent lingered in the room, but it was faded. They’d been here today, but not recently.
Brendon’s eyes had super-glued to my body. It was like day one all over again, only worse. His arm rubbed against mine as he reached for a roll of paper towels stashed in a desk corner. Goose bumps shot up on my arm as I realized how chilly his skin was. Brrrrr, gross. I moved away.
Faint whispers echoed in the hall. I stiffened, thinking the whispery voice had come back to haunt me, but then I recognized the tone.
“Yeah, I’ll remind her . . . Yeah, no worries.”
Aaron. I relaxed. His voice drifted behind me, coming from the office down the way. My feet slid to the side, preparing to get up. I stopped. No, I couldn’t bug him. I shouldn’t . . . should I?
Brendon’s leg bumped mine as he reached down to pick something off the floor. I didn’t see what it was. My eyes narrowed. Probably retrieving his confidence. Which, now that he’d found it, was giving him the guts to touch me some more.
“Hey, I’ll be right back.” I got up.
His eyes widened. “Where you going?”
“Just to the office. I’ll be back.” I spun around the corner.
The office door was cracked open, light spilling out onto the old, dusty floor. My feet moved silently towards it, missing the old squeaky boards they usually hit. I felt stealthy, balanced. I stopped a few feet outside the office to listen.
“Yeah, okay. I’ve gotta get back to work. I’ll see you guys for dinner.”
I smiled. Aaron’s typical tight voice had gone smooth, calm . . . just like how it’d been the day we’d gone for coffee. Was he talking to his aunt? His uncle? Maybe he was going to a friend’s house. Who did he hang with that didn’t work at the shelter?
My questions ceased as the phone noisily hit the receiver. The office fell quiet, all but for the scribbling of a pen and Aaron yawning. I smoothed my hair, tugged down my shorts. Taking a breath, I straightened up and pushed the door open. “Knock, knock.”
Aaron, seated behind the desk near the pool table, lifted his head. I kept a neutral expression, knowing I’d look too cocky if I smiled. I waited for him to speak, hoping for a positive reaction to my style change.
His eyebrows pulled together. I slipped in and snatched the chair in front of him. “Going to a Hollywood premiere?” His gaze lingered on my chest, on the rhinestone letters of my shirt.
My temple pulsed. Damn, he’s not impressed. “What, no hello first?” I snapped.
“And who am I saying hello to? Hello Kitty? You look like some kind of . . .” He trailed off.
“Some kind of what, Aaron?” I dared him to say it, knowing that if he had any sense of civility he’d pass it off or apologize right here, right now. I couldn’t believe he was acting disgusted. I’d worked hard to look this cute.
A spark lit Aaron’s eyes. He didn’t pass it off. “Like some kind of stripper,” he finished. “What? Joining the playboy bunnies now?”
My jaw dropped. He didn’t even crack a smile, snort, anything to prove he was just joking. He returned to reading some piece of paper.
“Jeez, what’s with the stick up your ass today?” I snarled.
He opened his mouth, about to snap back, but we were interrupted by laughter and footsteps in the hall. Trinity came in, giggling, Alison on her heels. Trinity’s ankle cast was off. Both girls had plastic bags containing boxes of Chinese food.
“Hi, guys,” Alison whispered, pretending to sneak in and not interrupt. Moving to the pool table, they jumped up to sit on the sides, opening their boxes.
I looked at the floor, biting my lip. Aaron’s shoulders went all stiff as he avoided looking at me.
“Oh my goodness.” Trinity’s eyes widened. Jabbing a finger towards my head, she cried, “Lina’s losing hair color.”
“Thanks, announce it to the world,” I crabbed. “So I’m going gray a little early.”
The girls burst out laughing. “No, silly!” Trinity set her lunch down, coming to prod through my hair. She pushed it this way and that, revealing more white-blonde streaks. “It means you’re coming closer to your shifting date.”
My whole morning had been spent fearless, but suddenly a stab of unease went through me. Shifting date?
“Aaron, isn’t this great?” Trinity said. “She can’t be far off now. Do you feel funny, Lina? Unusual?”
“Um . . .” In my peripheral vision, Aaron had stopped writing. He glanced at me. “Yes, as a matter of fact. I’ve been pretty weird all morning.” No need to elaborate and say I’d eaten cold salmon for breakfast and threatened a bully at school.
“Yay!” Trinity clapped her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “This is perfect. Hair’s changing color, feline hormones are setting in . . . how long do you think she has, Aaron? One week? Two?”
“It’s not like predicting a baby’s due date, Trin,” he snapped. “You can’t predict this kind of stuff. It’ll happen when it happens.”
Trinity crossed her arms. She threw a finger towards him as she turned back to me, silently asking: what’s his problem? I shrugged. She narrowed her eyes at him, moving back towards the pool table.
“So we have some investigative work to do this afternoon,” Aaron announced. “Tom called me while you guys were out getting lunch. He and Nate are down at the end of the reserve with Jace, near the southern border. Joey’s disappeared.”
“What?” Trinity and Alison said at the same time.
My temper deflated. “Joey’s missing?” I asked.
“There was no trace of the Keftey. They don’t understand it. It’s like he disappeared into thin air.” Aaron stood up, pushing his paperwork into a desk drawer. “They want us to come join the search party, see if we can’t make better progress before the sun goes down.”
“I guess we’re taking this to the car.” Alison closed up a box of beef and onion.
These Keftey didn’t scare me; they were starting to piss me off.
“Don’t worry. It’s at least an hour’s drive,” Trinity said to Alison, tying the handles of her bag together. “We’ll have plenty of time to eat on the way. Speaking of which, Lina have you eaten? I bet we’ll be out there a while—”
“She’s not going,” Aaron said.
Alison froze, in the middle of tightening her shoe laces. Trinity stopped mid-stride to the door, turning back.
I stood in the center of the room, hands curling into fists. “What?”
“What do you mean she’s not going?” Trinity said. “She’s the Alpha, she—”
“She can stay here with Brendon. It’s safer. I’ll meet you guys in the jeep. Hurry up.” Aaron motioned for them to leave the room.
Trinity made a huffy, annoyed sound. Her hand brushed my shoulder as she went by, a silent sorry. Alison followed her, sparing me a half smile.
As the door closed behind them, I jerked around. “I’m not going? Joey could be in danger and you want me to stay here? Since when do you call shots like that, new employee?”
“Since I was a clan leader, and the rest of you weren’t or aren’t yet.” He was back to not looking at me as he spoke. He yanked his black jacket off the back of his chair, pulling it on. “You’ll stay and help Brendon take care of the wildlife. Tell Ellen to check on that one red fox that came in last week. Her leg’s still pretty swollen.”
He headed for the door. I blocked him. He was zipping his jacket. “Why?” I demanded.
Aaron sighed, his chest puffing up a little. “Because. You are not dressed for the part, and you cannot shift. You have no feline counterpart to summon should we run into danger, and I don’t have time to protect bunnies today. You might be the Alpha, but at the moment you are still the equivalent of a human. Do as I say.”
He pushed by, leaving the office. My chest heaved. I couldn’t breathe. The anger, the hurt, the fear, all of it felt magnified by ten. Twenty. Before logic could kick in, hold me down, I exploded.
“What is your problem, Aaron? What are you, nineteen, and you treat everybody like your inferiors?” I shouted. He walked on. “What happened to the Aaron who rescued me, took me to coffee? Is this how you treat your family? Your friends? What about Halia?”
He stopped near the office entrance.
My hands folded over my mouth. Oh, crap.
His hands rolled into fists. Spinning around, he strode back towards me. His cheeks turned so red, I waited for the freckles to melt off his skin. His stride picked up to where he was just short of running.
I stumbled backwards, hitting the wall as he stormed toward me. I squeezed my eyes shut, sure he would ram me, shove me, something! He stopped just short, arms slamming the wall on either side of me. I cracked an eye. His breathing grew ragged as it hit my face, hot as the air of an open oven. Fur poked out of his hands, which raked repeatedly through his hair.
“You don’t know a damn thing about Halia, do you hear me?” he snarled. “You don’t know a damn thing.”
“Aaron, I’m sorry—”
“Did we not have a deal? What, did I need to specify that when I said don’t ask about my girlfriend that applied to interrogating my sister as well?” He drew back a couple feet, covering his face. A moan escaped through his fingers. It was a pained noise.
The tears stung my eyes. I reached towards him then pulled my hand back. You did this, Lina. All I wanted to do was hold him, touch him, do something to make the pain stop. It hurt me to see him like this. It killed me knowing it was my fault.
I hate myself. “I’m so sorry,” I repeated.
“You want to know why I want you here, Lina? Because Halia’s death was my fault. Because my team got ambushed and I couldn’t save her. I refuse to make the same mistake twice. If you died because of me . . . ” He shook his head, moving towards the doors. His own eyes were glossy, red around the edges. “Don’t ever bring her up again . . . I’m outta here.”
“Aaron,” I said, but his footsteps moved quickly down the hall. He glided into the lobby then made a noisy exit out the front doors. All at once the sound, the smell of him . . . it faded away.
I sunk down the wall. The tears streamed my face, trickling down onto my stupid MEOW shirt. I smacked the floor. Stupid, stupid, Lina, my brain kept repeating. He won’t let you live this one down. He hated me. That much I had heard in his voice, saw in his eyes. I blew it.
My weird high popped like a balloon. My self-confidence had been blown to bits. The paranoia took over in waves, darker than the shadows in the lotus tree dream. Looking down, I realized I despised this shirt. Not just because Aaron had—I always had. It reminded me of the ones She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wore, the ones wealthy hoochy-mommas fit over their big, plastic boobs. And I really didn’t like these shorts, either, how tight they were, how if I bent over too far they’d show my cellulite and the hair I’d missed while shaving.
The old Celina was back.
And although I welcomed her return, I didn’t feel invincible anymore.
Chapter 16: The Golden Fox
In my backyard, we have a large metal can for burning on Sundays. It sits just outside the patio, safely away from the woods, but not too close to the house. The second I arrived home I ripped off my MEOW shirt, then the silver shorts, and threw them in. I strode into the kitchen, pulling open the drawer by the sink. Under miscellaneous items, I honed in on a pack of matches.
Standing by the trash can, I swiped a match along the edge of the box. A flame ignited, reminding me of the fire I felt inside. I thrust the match on top of the shorts. The tears had stopped while I helped Brendon feed the animals, but they restarted as I watched the outfit burn, hoping Wild Celina (that’s the name I’d given to my new alter ego) wouldn’t show her face again.
The blow-out with Aaron had left me exhausted, dead inside. I lounged on the couch that evening, ignoring my homework and the fact I had an algebra test tomorrow. An advertisement for cat food appeared on the TV just then. A slim, orange house cat with eyes the color of Aaron’s waddled across the screen. I sniffled, wiping my eyes on my sweatshirt sleeve. What other strange things were going to happen to me? What about after I shifted? Will I crave cat food? Maybe I’ll have to be flea-treated every other month.
A meow echoed from the stairs. Harry waddled over, jumping up beside me. He slid under my arm, looking at my face. “Be glad you’re a housecat, Harry,” I whispered. “No responsibility. No one to tell you what to do or to break your heart.”
Harry purred, rubbing his head on me. I closed my eyes. I wanted to doze, set aside how badly today had ended and how gross my face would feel tomorrow with the tears plastered to my cheeks.
Don’t water, human.
My eyes shot open. I lifted my head.
Harry stared at me. Don’t water. He blinked. Don’t water. An image of me smiling as I came in the front door crossed my mind, then of me opening a can of tuna in the kitchen, which I then scooped into the cat bowls.
I sat up. As I pulled away from Harry, the images faded. Those thoughts, memories came like I was an extremely short person walking along the floor. No, not a person. They came from another source . . . A source that I was pretty sure had his furry fat rolls pressed up against me.
“Harry?” I said.
He flicked his tail. Human.
“Oh, wow.” I curled my arms around my legs, debating whether this should freak me out or if I was too tired to care.
Harry repositioned himself. He moved back against my side, curling his tail around his feet. Kneading the couch beneath his paws, he purred again. My human. A feeling of peace came over me.
I sighed. At least someone still likes me. Stroking his back, I wondered if I should quit showing up at the shelter for good this time. Aaron wouldn’t be speaking to me, which would hurt every time we passed each other and he treated me like a ghost. Trinity would clearly be angry, seeing as I’d betrayed her, spilled the fact that I knew about Halia. Alison was Trinity’s best friend and would probably side with her, as would Tom, Trinity’s boyfriend. I might still have Brendon.
At about six-thirty, I trudged upstairs to bed. I left a note for Mom on the table, saying I was too tired to wait up and that it had been a crappy day. I also wrote an apology for this morning, saying I didn’t know what came over me and that whatever it was had gone away and hopefully wouldn’t come back.
That night was one of those long, toss-and-turn kinds. I woke up frequently then fell back asleep. This, of course, caused me to dream. Luckily, they were normal dreams with no whispery voices or shadows or Cain. Dreams of the shelter, of Trinity and Alison always being out of reach. Dreams of the group at the field, of Brendon trying to kiss me and me slapping him . . . then I dreamt of a girl.
A milky-skinned girl with a head of golden curls stood outside the shelter. Her black dress waved in the breeze, molding to her perfectly slim body. She smiled, brushing her curls to the side as she sat on the hood of a blue Mercury Cougar.
I, an invisible figure on the sidewalk, watched the girl. The bells on the shelter doors jingled. I turned to see Aaron walking out in his capris and flip-flops. I tried to say his name, but no words came out. He walked right by me. Don’t go, I wanted to say. He walked up to her, spinning his arms around her waist. She giggled as he spun her around, knitting his hands in her curls as he pulled her face to his. Wrapping her arms around him, she hugged him close. Nudging her cheek, he whispered “I love you” in her ear.
I woke up, feeling pressure by my legs. Someone was sitting on my bed. “Mom?” I blinked the blurriness away.
