Happy Birthday, Ames

Well, I thought maybe this whole situation would put an ugly strain on me and Theresa’s relationship, seeing as we both were out of jobs for a few weeks while Pottery Playground was renovated and fixed up (Sharon was not at all pleased about this, but was very thankful neither of us had been too badly injured.)  However, it somehow did just the opposite; Theresa became even chattier than usual with me and made it a point to thank me almost every day for ‘saving her life’ and ‘calling my friends to come help us out.’  And the best part was, we managed to convince her to honestly, truly believe the vampires were nothing more than your average robbers and crooks.  Once she decided to stop hyperventilating, that is.

Besides my new camaraderie with Theresa Deuxmont, school always seemed like a very dark, depressing cloud was hovering over me at all times anymore�"and this had nothing to do with the fact rain was beginning to be a very common thing in Kneeland. It more or less felt like a nightmare to me, having to constantly dwell on whether or not I was being stalked by something lethal, or whether or not Aunt Kat was protected by the wolves, wherever she may be.  I sat impatiently in study hall, waiting for the bell to ring. My black leather jacket was on all day because of the constant chill that seemed to follow me wherever I went.  I even had to resort to wearing my gray suede slouch boots instead of my usual flats, which I had strong collection of.  The bell finally rang, and I was up and out of my seat in no time flat, holding my freezing cold purplish hands, trying to warm them up.

            He was waiting where he usually did, right by the water fountain that everyone steered clear of because of his presence.  His small collection of books was under his right arm as he leaned against the brick wall in his black and red flannel, black jeans, and Converse All-Stars.  The pink scar running through his eyebrow was attractive as ever.  “Hey,” I forced myself to use the usual polite smile I would give him instead of cursing under my breath.

            “Hello,” his normal response.  I tried to ignore the fact his grayish blue eyes somehow managed to sparkle even in the dull, unimpressive gleam of the ceiling lights.  “Have you decided if you’re coming over tonight or not?”

The actual, friendly, normal-person conversation surprised me at first.  For once it seemed he wasn’t trying hard to let me know we never be anything more than friends, and he wasn’t scolding me for still talking to Brady either.  So it took me a minute to figure out how to respond properly.

“Uh…” I started, pinching the bridge of my nose, trying to remember.  Oh right, Amery’s birthday.  Small get together.  Tonight.  “Yes, of course.  I’ll be there.”

“Okay, good.  I’ll pick you up.” Owen said, running a large hand quickly through his disheveled chocolate brown hair.  I could feel my eyebrows close together in defiance before the words even formed.

“Owen, I have my own car, remember?  I can drive myself,” I tried, but the stern look Owen was giving me caused me to shut up rather quickly.

I winced at the intense look of disappointment in his crystal orbs, yet he probably thought I was wincing because of the husky, hairy kid who nudged pass me in the rowdy hallway. 

“Why?” I moaned in my unfaltering relentlessness.  Poor Little Cooper had not been getting much use lately.

“For starters, you were almost murdered at your own work place the other night, in the company of another employee.  It’s not even just about your safety, Sophia,” he explained in lower decibels. “Must you always be so stubborn?  You make it hard to be a gentleman at times.”  I couldn’t help but sputter out a laugh at this, because there was never a time I could recall him being anything less than gentlemanly.

“Yeah…ok.  Sure, Owen,” I mumbled.  He did have a good point; even though that was the first time he brought anything up about what happened at the Pottery Playground.

“I’ll pick you up at sevenish,” he informed me, before giving me the most awkward, unaffectionate twitch of the mouth, which I thought was supposed to be a smile.

The rest of the day dragged by slowly, and my stubborn cold progressed with each runny sniffle.  I pulled my lovable Cooper in the driveway around 3:00, happy and relieved to see Aunt Kat’s Subaru was parked in its spot already as well.

After walking in the door and hearing the running sound of water, I determined she was taking a shower and getting ready to go out as well tonight.  It was Kat, after all.  Of course she’d have plans.

No more excuses, then.  I was being forced to go to the party, witnessing Owen and Mariellen pretending to love and care for each other for a few hours.  Perfect.

 

I stood in front of the mirror in my bedroom that evening, trying to get my hair to stay in a somewhat acceptable fashion for the night.  I had on a red cinnamon colored bubble dress, and of course my favorite black flats with the bows, since I was told it would be a semi formal party.  But even though I was trying to distract myself by aimlessly fixing my hair and applying makeup haphazardly to my face, as well as choosing random jewelry to adorn myself with, my mind was racing uncontrollably.

I couldn’t figure out why Owen had gotten so cold towards me lately, or when it had even started.  We were perfectly fine with each other at the beginning of the trip at the beach, what had gone so horribly wrong that he felt compelled to be so distant?

The first event I could even recall was the strange encounter with Brady at the beach.  It was as if he instantly pricked one of Owen’s nerves, sending him straight into one of his angry, bull headed stampedes.

But he had been somewhat okay after the math, when he tried to tell me that ‘something’ that never quite got out because the other’s had returned unexpectedly.

What was it he wanted to say? I was returned to the memory of standing in the shower, rinsing the sand off my bikini. No matter what happens�"no matter what , I just want you to know that… that I never�"

And that’s when he broke off.  Never what? What was it he wanted to say?  Who or what did it even have to deal with?  He had somewhat been okay again a little after that, but after the second incident where Brady made his existence renown, it was as though Owen turned into a completely different person, and the man I once knew who would take me to the bridge, cradle me against his chest and rock me to sleep was long gone.

What had Brady done?  Or, what was Brady going to do?

My eyes froze on the reflection of the glass jewelry dish I placed the note Owen had handed me in, the one that was supposed to further explain things to Brady, which I failed to have given him yet.  Why did Owen need him to understand this so badly?  I thought back again to what he said:  I don’t think we’re going to be able to just forget about him.  I have a feeling he’s going to make his presence very noticeable, very soon.

Did he sense something ground breaking was coming, that even I couldn’t see yet?

Or…had I witnessed everything he knew already, and just been too ignorant to fit the pieces together properly?             

I snapped out of my daze as I realized my curling iron was singing one of the knit hats that were hanging on the back of my bedroom door, my favorite crème colored one at that.

After that I quickly finished getting ready, and Owen picked me up soon after 7:00, never anything short of punctual.  He wore a black and gray striped button down and black dress pants, and was quiet, just as I had expected, and had the band Muse humming low from the speakers of his truck.

“I’m not really looking forward to this,” He spoke at last, just as we turned onto the hidden street where he and the rest of the Kneeland wolf pack lived.

Overjoyed that he spoke first, I quickly turned towards him, leaning back attractively in his seat with one arm stretched towards the steering wheel, the other on the gear shift.  “Really…why is that?”

He shifted gears and the truck lurched slightly, and he pushed his lips towards the side of his mouth.  I watched his eyes dart around the potholes on the road. “I don’t know.  I feel like my parents, as well as all the other elders, are just going to be focusing on Mariellen and I the whole time, like they do any other time everyone’s together.  The ceremony is coming up quicker than I thought.”

 “Oh.”

My jaw snapped shut and I felt my teeth grinding together inside my mouth, and I knew my lips were suckered into a pinched little O.

We pulled up to the house, and he shut the ignition off, opening the door. “Hope you got him a good gift,” Owen said with an awkward laugh, as he unbuckled and climbed out. “It’s his big 1-7, you know.”

“Well, I hope $20 and a hand drawn card is considered a good gift,” I countered, watching to make sure my dress didn’t slide up as I got out of the truck.  “Since a bunch of vampires destroyed my place of employment, I haven’t been able to make much money lately to afford a Hallmark card.”

For a moment I had got him to smile brightly, his white pearls sparkly by the glow of the street light outside the Sumter’s home.

“You’re a good artist though, a handmade card from you is worth way more than any sentimental Hallmark card,” He said, gray eyes shimmering from under his dark brows.  Before I could even blush, I heard a door slam shut from somewhere towards my right, and spun around to see Mariellen was making her way down the front steps of her home, her long, beautiful white curls thrown back into elegant disarray.  She was wearing a pale pinkish champagne colored off shoulder dress with gold pumps.  Owen was looking in her direction too, waiting faithfully for her to make her way over.

“Uh, I’ll go head in,” I mumbled unintelligently, not waiting for a reply but scurrying up the stairs and not looking back.

Inside, everyone greeted me just as though I were a part of the family.  Which in a way, I sort of was a part of the family.  Amery approached me right away in the living room of the quaint home, throwing his arms around my torso and squeezing tight.

“Happy birthday, Amery,” I said politely, keeping my eyes fixed on the now 17-year-old’s dark brown ones, making sure they did not wonder towards the entrance, where Owen and Mariellen had now walked through, hands clasped around one another’s.  The hole in my stomach seemed to surge unpleasantly.

“Thanks, baby,” Amery said, strapping an arm around my shoulder, while the other hand took a sip of his punch.  I was used to this kind of playfulness from the boy, but never took it into much consideration.   “So does this mean now that I’m a year older, you’ll let me take you out on the town?”

I laughed somewhat uncomfortably, shrugging away from his embrace, only to playfully scruff up his hair like I usually did when he teased me with his usual antics. “Easy, Ames,” I said, making a face. “I wouldn’t count on anything like that, if I were you.”

“Oh, come on,” He urged, flashing his vibrant, youthful smile. “Just take one night out with me.  We’ll go play putt-putt.  Something innocent?” His laugh was hearty and warm, and for a moment, he did manage distract me from the pretend couple I was trying to forget about.

“Well…I guess putt-putt would be okay,” I agreed, playing along with a little wink. “But you should know I’m a pro at putt putting.”

“That’s ok.  I’m sure you’d just let me win anyways,” Amery said, cracking himself up.

“Wow, always so cocky,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“No, not cocky.  Just confident,” Amery corrected, winking at me this time, as he took another sip of his drink and maneuvered around me to talk to a group of 20-something-year-old werewolves.  I took this opportunity to snag a seat on the couch beside Tyler.  Stealing a quick glance, I saw Owen and Mariellen sitting alone on the love seat now across from us, an awkward gap between the two of them.  I never once wanted to be a werewolf so bad before in my life.

            “So, what’s your boy Brady at tonight?” Tyler asked in her raspy little voice from beside me. She was wearing a short, sleeveless black cocktail dress and her feet were up on the coffee table in front of her.  She was eating black olives off of her fingers as she looked at me expectantly.

            “Well,” I said, looking down at my lap and smoothing out the wrinkles in my cranberry red bubble dress. “First of all, he isn’t my boy�"”

            “I bet he begs to differ.”

            I shot her a scolding look as she popped her last olive into her mouth with a little smirk.

            “Anyways, he isn’t my boy…but I heard him say he was going to the movies tonight with James and AJ,” I continued, not liking the smug, I-know-something-you-don’t-know- look Tyler was giving me, her punch glass now in her hand. “I think they were going to see some action flick…” I added unsurely to her awkwardness.

            “Mhm,” She said suggestively, and then she sat up quickly and crossed her legs, gesturing towards where Owen and Mariellen sat on the love seat, now being chatted up by some of the elder lycan council members. “Do you have any idea how completely pissed Owen is about Brady?”

            “What?” I gapped, confusion raising the pitch in my voice. “What is it this time…the whole thing at the beach? Or…”

            “Well, that still gets to him too I think.  You know as well as the rest of us how he can never just let things go,” Tyler said, casually glancing across the living room towards where the couple was sitting.  “But he was especially angry about that whole scene the other day at school.”

            “Seriously?” I said expressionlessly. This was exactly what I had been waiting to hear.  “Why…it wasn’t that big of a deal.”   I was so over hearing about this prejudiced beef he had against Brady.  Even though I guess Brady was being slightly arrogant and pushy again…two qualities he possessed that I don’t think he could ever be rid of.

            “Maybe it wasn’t a big deal to you, but to Mr. King Lycan over there, it was like the end of the world,” Tyler mocked. “He was going on and on about that punk kid and how he still doesn’t think he can trust him with our secret…but don’t worry… I told him to lighten up.”

            “Mmm…good.” I twirled the silver band I wore around my finger.

            “And if it makes the situation any more appealing to you… I know for a fact he thinks you want Brady back…and it’s really eating at him,” Tyler spoke in lower tones.

            My attention perked up at once.  This was the kind of information I had really been hoping to hear, I thought shamefully to myself.

            “How do you know that?” I snapped, jerking my head up to face her.

            Snickering to herself, she said “We’ve all noticed. He just always says things like…’I don’t understand what she sees in that worthless scum,’ or ‘She could do so much better than him,’ or ‘Does she forget what he did to her at the beginning of the year?’”

            I could tell she was watching for my reaction, and I tried to make my face as unsurprised as possible while I chewed on my bottom lip.  Tyler raised her eyebrows with the same smirk on her face, as if she knew better.

            Turning my attention away from her for a moment, I glanced over at the leather loveseat the topic of our conversation was sitting still.

            His frighteningly frigid, crystal gray eyes were already locked on me from under his dark brows, assessing the look upon my face as greatly as Tyler had been.  His strong jaw line was set in my direction, and his perfect full lips were pressed together into a straight line.  He was leaning back against the sofa with his arms draped along the back rest, and while everyone was coming up and talking to Mariellen and him, his focus remained unbreakable on none other than myself.

            Excusing myself, I got up and made a break for the kitchen before I completely melted in the heat generating from his penetrating stare.

            In the small kitchen of Ms. Sumter’s humble abode, a few of the young men werewolves were gathered around the wine bottles, pouring themselves more to drink while laughing over some sort of joke.  I felt out of place instantly, brushing my bangs out of my face and awkwardly positioning my arms around my body while I leaned against the counter. 

            Mariellen’s mother, Estelle, and Gabrielle Sumter walked into the room with two empty dishes, talking quietly together as they dished more appetizers onto the trays and scurried back out of the room quickly again.

            I looked out the door frame towards the living room, but turned back quickly again after noticing Estelle taking a picture of Mariellen and Owen with their arms loosely hanging on each other’s shoulders.

            What a stupid idea to come here, I thought to myself.  This was like a very slow, painful downward spiral into self-destruction. 

            “Hey.”

            I turned around, hearing someone’s deep voice address.

            One of the guys who were standing around the alcoholic beverages was now standing beside me, and I realized he was the tall muscular one who stared at me when I walked in at the beginning of the night.  His hair was sandy brown and gelled back messily out of his greenish eyes, which reminded me of Brady’s, yet he had a strong jaw line and plump lips that reminded me of Owen…I was taken aback.

            “Are you okay?  You seem a little…lost,” He asked me.

            “Me?  Lost?  Nah, I’m okay,” I said hesitantly. “Just taking a breather.”

            The guy stared at me for a minute, an unconvinced look upon his face.        

            “Do you want anything to drink?  Water?  Coke…something?” He asked politely.

            Before I could answer there was a shadow that appeared in front of the doorway.  The boy talking to me looked up at once. “Oh, hey Owen.” 

            Spinning around on the spot, there he was, his figure filling the doorway and making it look better than it ever had before.

            “Can I talk to Sophia for a minute, please,” Owen said, his eyes full of the puppy dog pleading his voice depicted.

            “Yeah, sure,” The guy said invitingly, leaning back against the counter next to me.   He was tall.  Even taller than Owen was.

            “Alone, please, Trent,” Owen said, his voice gradually becoming testy.  I looked up at Trent, who was frozen for a minute, and then he nodded a few times, unfolded his arms, and left the room without another word.

            I was scared.

            “How is your night going?” Owen asked after a moment of just standing rigidly with his arm against the door frame.  I thought carefully for an answer.

            “It’s…alright,” was all that I came up with.

            He stared down at me, biting his lower lip as though he was choosing his response delicately as well.

            “I’m sure Tyler has already told you,” He began. “But I do not feel comfortable with Brady knowing the information he does about us, and I feel even less for the attitude and disrespect he gives me, someone who saved that punk’s a*s, Sophia.”   

            Ms. Sumter snuck into the room past Owen, giving his shoulder a playful squeeze as she grabbed some more munchies and was back out of the kitchen in a matter of seconds.

            “Well what do you want me to do about?” I snapped, chewing on my bottom lip again, avoiding everything but his hypnotizing eyes. “You’re the one who wanted me to give him that dumb letter.”

            “Have you yet?” He probed, raising his dark brows.

            “Nope.” I said, over annunciating the word so I pushed my lips out, making a popping sound so it sounded more like “Nopuh”.

            He stared blankly, like he was not surprised but my difficult behavior.

            “You still have feelings for Brady, don’t you?” Owen suddenly demanded, from the door frame he was leaning against. “After everything�"all that s**t he’s put you through�"you still can’t find a way to let go of him?”

            I stared vigorously for a moment, literally feeling the blood within my veins smoldering at the accusation.

            “Where did that come from?” I barked, unintentionally, yet that’s how it came across.  I let go of the raggedy dish towel I had unconsciously picked up and was knotting into a mess and threw it down on the counter top.

            Owen furiously rolled his crystal-like eyes back in his head, and bit his full lips as though he were thinking strongly against what he wanted to voice.

            “You must think we’re stupid.  One minute you talk badly of him, then the next you’re looking at him like…like he’s your everything.  Well, which is it?  You can’t have everything both ways.”

            At first, I might have mistaken this enraged tone of voice as jealousy, but I knew better than that with Owen.  I jumped away from the kitchen counter, taking a giant lunge towards him, enraged he’d ever dare speak to me about having mixed feelings and torn emotions.  Had he not known how badly he ripped my heart apart?  Did he not know how long it took me to accept the fact we’d only ever be friends�"that and nothing more?

            If he could really read me like a book like I once believed he was able to, he should know this very well.  But apparently, he didn’t.  Apparently he couldn’t figure this one out for himself.

            “I don’t have to talk about this right now,” I declared, trying my share at clamming up and leaving him answerless.  His beautiful crystal laced eyes smothered me, and his dark eyebrows left shadows over his eye sockets so the affect was even more dramatizing.

            “This boy is not good for you, Sophia, you can do better than him.  You can do better than someone who only uses you for…selfish, lustful motives.”

            I gasped out loud, feeling my face transfigure into an incredulous expression of horror.

            “How dare you!” I spat out, although I knew at one point in time, Brady had given Owen a fully good reason to make that statement.  The vision of Owen shock and awing that bedroom door came flooding back to mind, but I quickly dismissed it.  “Brady loves me, I know he does.  He cares about me more than anything.  Who are you to say any differently?”

            I knew Owen was having a difficult time handling this new persona I was throwing at him, because it was one that didn’t back down.  One that was self-destructive in his eyes, even.  Quite frankly, I was just being stubborn, because the more I heard of one thing; the more I wanted to fight it.  And despite everything else, there was still that invisible string which calmly and persistently pulled my heart strings closer and closer to Brady, as unexplainable as it was.

            Owen grabbed at his dark brown tousled hair, squeezing his eyes shut tight in overwhelming frustration.  People were starting to make anxious glances are way.

            “Listen to yourself!” He finally exploded, fingers balled into angry fists around the chunks of his hair.  “Listen to what you are saying!  You’re being ridiculous.  You give him the chance, he’ll hurt you again, I guarantee it.  He’s not good enough.  He says he’d protect you, but he can’t.  He doesn’t have the strength to protect you, Sophia.  He can only hurt you.  He’s an inconsiderate b*****d.”

            “You think you’re the only one that can take care of me then, is that what you’re insinuating?”  I spat out incredulously. “You and your friends are the only ones capable of keeping me safe?  Isn’t that a bit conceited?  You don’t think people can change?  You don’t believe that someone can finally wake up and see the light?”

            “I don’t trust him, Sophia.  I think you need to keep a close eye on him,” he suggested under his breath.

            “I don’t think you like how close of an eye I have on him already, Owen,” I admitted, angrily fleeing the scene and heading towards the front door, clumsily almost tripping over my flats as I went.

            How dare he.

            I spotted Isaac standing alone in the living room, looking absolutely miserable.

            “Hey,” I said, tugging on his shirt sleeve. “Do you wanna get out of here?”

            “Yes, ma’am,” he agreed eagerly, setting his drink down on the entertainment system and taking me by the arm as we both headed out the front door.