The wind blows over my scaled nose as it supports my reptilian body and fills my membraned wings. I soar thousands of feet above the ground, free of all responsibilities. Flying beside me are my flock, hundreds of fellow dragons. I'm overjoyed and unafraid, knowing - no matter what happens - I can always depend on my flock. They are my family, and I am theirs; we will always support each other. The feeling is wonderous and magical. Yet, I know this will end as soon as my alarm wakes me.
The alarm blares loudly, ripping me from a dream I've already separated myself from. A sigh leaves my lungs as I prepare myself for another day.
I live with my adoptive parents and their twin children, enduring an unfair life. I have to maintain my parents high standards, and I suffer with little food - even for someone without a fast metabolism like myself. I have a barely furnished bedroom, and a summer job is the only way I can earn money, and I have to maintain grades of at least 95%. All of my academic classes are Advanced Placement, and so are much harder than normal classes. On the other hand, the twins did not have chores, or a curfew or even schoolwork requirements. They can do as they wish and receive whatever they want.
I'm sick of the injustice but I have nowhere else to go. I would just have to endure it for now; I would only be here for another year and a half, anyway. Soon I will graduate, go to university and live a normal life. I need to stop whining and get on with this day; get one day closer to graduation and freedom. Every morning this two-faced dream sets me straight. I dream of being in a flock and accepted, but I'm all alone, abandoned by my kind and unloved by those who raised me. The only person I can rely on is myself.
I lean up and a sequence of sharp cracks reverberates down the length of my spine, the rushing blood leaves me feeling relieved and loose just before my muscles seize up again. Grunting with effort, I pick myself off the floor. I open my eyes and come face to face with myself painted before me on my largest wall. Only it isn't myself, as in my reflection, I see painted there. It is my alter ego - the dragon - reminding me of my greatest secret, and the life I'm doomed to live.
The mural shows the dragon as the focal point, in mid-flight, surrounded by bright blue skies, white puffy clouds and dazzling yellow sunlight. Behind her fly other dragons, varying in shades from the darkest blacks to the brightest of whites, with the full colors of the rainbow mixed in. The flock is beautifully diverse, and they are my solace.
I wish this dream will one day become my reality, but I can't see how it's possible. If that happens, I will no longer be a freak of nature; I can have absolute trust in people. I can learn to accept the dragon that rests within me, and finally be comfortable in my own skin. But I can't let my hopes rise - I know that future is not in the cards for me.
My 'mother' screams my name at the top of her lungs, yanking me out of my reverie.
"JOSEPHINE," I flinch as my sensitive ears ring, my heart pounding as my entire world goes from total silence to ear-splitting shrieks. There is a pause in her shout, and I can hear her take a long drag on her cigarette. "Get your worthless ass down here right this second!"
Sighing once again, this time in anger, I glance back at the dragon, wishing that something could go my way for once in my life. I grab my bathrobe and walk down the freshly-scrubbed stairs - Thank you, Josie, don't those stairs look beautiful? I think to myself, and then the dragon responds. Don't push your luck; No one says 'thank you' to the slave.
I finally stand in front of the she-devil herself. She is closer to six feet than she likes - making her that extra inch taller than her husband - and she wears a disgusting beige pant suit that blends into her skin tone too well, making her look heavier and dirtier than she is. I nearly snicker to myself at the image but keep a straight face.
"Why did you not do the kitchen last night?" Her voice is louder than it needs to be.
Must you shout? It's six in the morning for goodness sake!
"I did?" The response I give is more of a question than an answer, but she takes it the wrong way.
"Don't you dare lie to my face!" She screeches, stepping to my toes, looming over me to intimidate me into backing down.
Oh, well, then I guess I should I lie behind your back?
"I'm not lying. I'm just telling you I did all of my chores last night, and the kitchen was spotless when I went to bed. Someone must have just -"
"How ungrateful! My great-grandparents found you as an egg in a secondhand store, and we took care of it - took care of YOU - for four generations. And when you hatched, we could have kicked you out, but we didn't. We raised you as if you were our own child and even let you paint that.... thing in your room! And yet you lie and don't finish your few chores."
Few chores? Has she forgotten how to count?
On any day, I have no less than five chores, usually more during the summer. On top of chores, I also have either homework or my summer job. And the only reason she let me paint that mural is because I bought the paints myself, and asked for no help. I even provided the white paint for them to paint over my mural, and enough cash to replace the carpet if I got a drop of paint on it. It was basically free money to her!
"What a child I've raised! What did your father and I do to deserve you?"
She is so angry, I could almost see the smoke leaving her ears and hear the whistle of a teapot. I raise a single eyebrow at the woman, brimming with tightly restrained anger. I want to yell at her, remind her of the injustice she's forced on me, and then storm out. But I can't. If I do that, I'll be giving up what I have here - two meals and a bed - because she'll surely kick me out. I'd be choosing to risk my life on the outside world over a few chores and homework assignments. It isn't worth it.
"I'll clean them now, Mother." I say in a small voice as I move around her, head bowed. She smiles with satisfaction; smug in her victory.
I cough and stop as I see the kitchen, dismayed at the disaster that has taken hold of the place.
Bloody brats!
Sweet wrappers are strewn across the floor, chip bags somehow float in the sink! Who misses the bin like that? Coffee, hot chocolate and sugar are plastered all over the sides of the sinks. Must have been Kane. The pig is never full and seems to make another meal out of only midnight snacks, and he always leaves his mess for me to clean up. Sighing for a third time, in defeat, I roll up my sleeves and get to work.
After I finish with the kitchen, I shower and change into my outfit. I didn't usually like wearing green because I didn't like the reminder of my scale color, but today is different. It's the first day of a new year, and green is the school color. Is there a better day for it?
I leave the house and begin the short trek to my high school for the first day of the eleventh grade. I'm so excited; I love the new year because I'm one step closer to finally being out on my own. It also means seeing my friends again, new classes and teachers to adapt to. And this year is more important than the last; universities will look at our grades and activities, which is crucial to my master plan.
The biggest difference is seeing my friends and boyfriend again after almost three months of no contact. I couldn't wait to give out hugs, and to kiss Ryan and have him hold me again.
It isn't much longer before I turn the corner and pass through the open gate that marks the entrance to the school grounds. My friends and I like to hang out under a stairwell just inside the gate, because no one goes over there.
There are six of us in our group, and we have a few things in common. We each love to wear black clothes but for various reasons. Another thing we have in common is performing arts; most of us love drama, but a couple of us adore choir. I love theater, and getting to shift myself into another person, living their life instead of mine. It's a relief to act as if I have 'normal' issues, like any ordinary teenager.
A third thing we have in common is we have abusive and neglectful parents, though each in their own way. Since we face the same challenges, when the chips are down and they have crushed our spirits into dust, we use that bond to support each other and keep us going.
The stairwell itself has concrete stairs, forest-green metal panels, a deck overhead and some concrete pillars that altogether form a circle. And on the underside of each step, a group of friends that have claimed this space write their names and the year in permanent marker on the first blank step they could reach. It is a tradition that started the first year of the school's operation, and this year might be the last. After twenty years, the steps are getting too high to reach. We also decorate the stone pillars, but in a less-obvious form of vandalism. We use colored sidewalk chalk to draw or write our names or leave notes. It's harmless, but fun. The security guards don't like it, but the principal thinks it's cute and lets us get away with it.
"Hey, guys!" I chirp as I approach them, seeing only two of my friends; Beckie - who insists on her name being Lavender because of her love for the color purple - and Jazz.
Lavender has straight, long midnight-and-purple hair and alabaster skin, with purple corrective eye contacts. As good as she looks with purple eyes, I miss her natural baby blues. She's the average height, but loves to wear heels so she appears taller. Her parents are white-collar workers, and they're filthy rich because their families come from 'old money' and also because of their business success. Because of this, they've raised Lavendar to be the same. They let her go to common public schools - but only the best in the country - and then she goes to a boarding school for the social elite during the summers. She hates every minute of it, but she can't do anything against her parents because she has no marketable job skills and her parents control all of her money, and they have very short tempers. If she rebels, she'll be penniless and homeless. So, like me, she's biding her time until she graduates from college with her degree, then she'll get out from under her parents.
Jazz is the tallest in the group, tanned, and prefers to wear black and bright blue. His hair is a gorgeous, rich shade of red that is short, spiked, and dyed cyan at the tips. He and I used to work together at a local restaurant, which is how we met, but he spent this last summer helping his uncle with the construction business.
"Josie!" Lavender shrieks as she races forward. I immediately drop my bag, open my arms, brace my feet apart, and harden the bones in my skull. As usual, Lavender takes a flying leap, landing in my arms and we fall backwards. My head slaps against the concrete and I could feel the pain lancing through my skull. But my bones and brain are unharmed, which is the real goal behind my secret ability.
Without missing a beat, the three of us break into laughs and Lavender latches onto me. I hug her back forcefully, laughing even though I'd usually yell at her about hurting someone with her tackle. I always go easy with her on the first day since I haven't seen her and I couldn't have missed her more.
"Okay, okay. Come on, Lav, you're going to choke her to death." Jazz intervenes, approaching us to pull Lavender off of me. She whines and grips me harder, but gives in to Jazz's sensible reminder. Jazz help us both up, and he and I chuckle at our friend together.
"So, what have you been doing this summer, Lav?"
"It was awful! I had five academic classes a day and a dancing class afterwards! There was so much homework, and it was all due the next day."
"Yikes!" Jazz grimaces. "That's scary."
"The worst part was the curriculum. All of the academics are about social etiquette, or accounting, and boring stuff like that. And the dance class? The instructor was stuck in the 1600s and he only taught us Victorian ballroom dances; the ones that are five minutes long per piece. And then, towards the middle of the semester, the guys came in and we had to practice talking with our partners during the dance! We had only one partner per dance and we couldn't dance with the same boy twice. So we had to have the same conversation over and over. And don't even get me started on the final exam! It lasted for an entire week! Besides the exams for our classes during the day, there was a full-length gala each night, and we'd have to dance only one piece the entire time, with boys from a different school each night. So more of the same boring conversation, the same boring dance, and little to no sleep because of studying. The first night, I thought my feet would fall off. By the end of the week, I thought I'd die!"
"How is that treatment legal? Doesn't that classify as unnecessary physical and emotional strain on a minor?"
"Well, it's over now and we have the same steady homework pattern we've had since freshman year. It'll be a breeze. Oh, yeah! Schedule Check!" I dig out my schedule from my pocket and show it to my friends as they did the same.
"Okay," I mutter, having found one common class with Jazz and one with Lavender. "It's better than having no classes together."
"What are we talking about?" Someone asks as they grab my shoulders from behind, where I couldn't see them. I jump in the same moment I swing my arm, unconsciously trying to connect with Bellatrix.
Bellatrix, who I'd nicknamed Bella, is the only one brave - or stupid - enough to sneak up behind me. The others had learned that I get violent when I'm taken by surprise, which usually resulted in someone getting hurt. Yet Bella still does it. She's either quick to forget, or she enjoys the adrenaline rush that comes with dodging my accidentally-lethal counterattack.
"Dammit, Bella!" I roar as I chase after her until I swat her back a couple times. "Stop sneaking up on me! You know I could hurt you."
"Aww, but it's so much fun! I love seeing you get ruffled." The green-eyed brunette replies in her typical sing-song voice.
Bella half-sang everything to control her stutter. It had caused a lot of strife in the beginning, and Bella has lost several friends over it. But she's grateful for it now; if they hadn't blown up at her the way they had, she wouldn't have seen they were awful for her. It's also had some impressive results in her singing, which will help since she's decided to pursue acting as her career.
"You won't be saying that if you don't duck fast enough next time." I speak more gently now. I've gotten my revenge and she's had her fun. I open my arms as she draws closer and hug her.
"You'd have to hit me first."
"Whatever. Okay, so, how was your summer?"
"I went to the cafe, like, every day. It was so great!"
"Sweet. Did you find someone?"
"I did!"
"No way! Tell me about him."
Bella hangs out at this cafe in town. She loves everything about it; the ambiance, the menu, the prices. It's also a popular hotspot for teenagers. She's been looking for a boyfriend for two years now, someone outside our school because all of our guys - except Jazz, Ryan and Cedric - are jerks. She figured that cafe would be the best place to look on an average day. Sounds like she was right.
"Well, his name is Derek and he's so cute! He's into sports and he's the captain of his school's varsity basketball team. He goes to -" The bell rings just then, cutting her off. "Aw, man! No way! Well, I'll see you at lunch."
"See ya, Bella." Everyone dives for their backpacks and rush towards their first class.
Since the first class of my day is Study Hall, there isn't much in the way of a " Welcome Back!' speech or a syllabus. To pass the class we have to present our plans for the day as we walk in and provide proof of progress when we leave. After two full years of day-to-day dedication to my homework, I'm almost exempt from this rule.
Once the late bell rings, the teacher pulls out her clipboard and takes roll. As usual, my name is at the bottom of the list.
"Josephine Wickham?"
"Here!"
"That's it for roll. Welcome back, everyone. I think I already know the answer but I will ask anyway. Who wants to decorate their parking spot?" A bunch of hands go up, but not mine. I didn't qualify. But that didn't mean I couldn't go with them and take advantage of the morning air.
The teacher sighs and grabs the keys.
The school assigns each student - who has either a driver's learner permit or a driver's license, and a car, and they have to pay a fee - a parking spot for the year so they don't have to fight with the parents who park to drop off their kids, or teenagers who couldn't afford the fee. Since the spot is ours, and the school likes to repave the asphalt each summer, the students are allowed to paint their spot. It gives every student a chance to be creative, to express themselves, and it brings color to the otherwise drab school.
Once we hit the asphalt, the students split up and rush for their spots. I sit down on a bench in the shade nearby, turning to a fresh page in my sketchbook. Slowly but surely, a brilliant idea comes to mind, one that calls to my imagination like my bedroom mural does; its dragon-themed.
I take up my light gray pencil and start to outline. It takes nearly all the time we have, but I'm finally satisfied with the image taking shape before me.
Five minutes later the teacher calls us in.
After an hour of listening to the teacher in my next class drawl on, the bell finally releases us. I pack away the new syllabus - which is ten pages thick with protocols and policies and not so much on what we will learn - and bolt out the door. This is break, my first chance for food all day. Since I packed my food this morning, I didn't have to spend ten minutes waiting in line at the kiosks. But I stop at the vending machines to pick up a couple bottles of my favorite sports drink.
As I slide the last quarter into the slot, I feel a body press up against me and hands wrap around my stomach. I jump out of my skin at the sudden contact, and prepare to swing, but I relax as I recognize the arms that hold me, and a familiar cologne wafts on the breeze. I'd know that scent anywhere; Ryan.
"Hey, baby."
"Hey, you. I haven't heard from you all summer." Ryan whispers in my ear as his hands land on my hips. I only have a few seconds to enjoy it before I have to bend down to retrieve my drinks and my backpack.
"I told you that would be the case, didn't I? I was too busy with my job."
"Yeah, you warned me. Which is why I want to catch up tonight over dinner and a movie. What do you say?" He grabs both of my drinks out of my hands, holding one in each hand. He opens one bottle with just two fingers. He's strong even by my standards, but he doesn't like to flaunt it. He wears loose clothes to hide his bulging muscles, and he's still so gentle. It's a combination I love because I know Ryan is harmless towards me. If he were anyone else, however, those bulging muscles would be trouble...as long as I'm in my human form, anyway.
"I say dinner and a movie could be arranged. Which movie were you thinking of?" I accept the drink he offers and take a sip.
"Why don't you pick?"
"Are you sure about that? It could lead to some trouble."
As we get clear of the line, Ryan pulls me into his embrace again and kisses me, suddenly and soundly. I melt against him immediately and almost cry when he pulls away.
"I trust you."
"Well. Look who's cruising for a burning." I using a line from an old romantic teen-centric comedy we have both loved since before we knew what half of the themes were. My cheesy, hastily adapted line earns me a smile and a quick but searing kiss.
When we break apart again, I touch our foreheads together and stroke his cheek with my green nails, using just the sharpened tips. I could feel him shiver as I trace his jawline, and my heart skips a beat in a way I couldn't quite name.
"Guess you missed me. All right, then. There's this movie at the drive-in I've been wanting to see. You game?"
"You bet! Name the time and I'll pick you up."
Just as he finishes, we come close enough to our friends for them to greet us. But this time, there are two more friends in the circle.
Andrea is the youngest in the group, a sophomore now. Unlike the rest of us, she isn't into drama. She prefers choir, and she is the most talented singer in the alto section. Where the rest of the group is dark, Andrea is light. She doesn't like black as much as the rest of us do because it's the same color group as her skin, so she prefers to wear white along with a second color. Today, that color is a pastel green, which is present only in her shirt. The rest of her is pure white, except for the choker at her throat. She wears a particular spike choker with a heart for a clasp she wears in the front, and she owns several colors in the same style; today's choker is a neon green that balances out the pastel in her shirt. She also wears a longer necklace, but no one's seen what the necklace holds. All we know is it's a black leather strand she keeps tucked inside her shirt.
Our other friend who hadn't shown up this morning is Cedric. He was born in another country, but his surgeon parents immigrated here two years ago to take a better job. It was a major life decision he still doesn't understand, and he's doing everything he can to show his dislike of his new country.
Aside from his rebellious streak, Cedric is a nice guy. He's athletic and holds good grades, sweet and thoughtful. He'll make you feel better when you're depressed, or help you with your homework even when it's his worst subject. He's pale-skinned, has freckles all over his face and arms, red hair and a thick brogue. His color of choice is red, but he wears it a little too much, which only serves to draw attention to the unusual amount of red in his cheeks.
"Hey, guys!" I reach out to hug them, feeling Ryan's arms drop away. "How was your summer? Where were you this morning? How are you?"
"Hey, Josie!" Cedric replies, hugging me in return but quickly backing away lest he risk the wrath of my overprotective boyfriend. As soon as Cedric leaves, Ryan's arms are back, holding me close to him. "I'm good, got a lot of writing done. I'm almost done with 'Black Nights' so now I've got to find a beta-reader to start the second draft."
"That's great! You should send it my way sometime. I'd love to read it."
"I'd really appreciate that. I'll send you an email later with the file and some questions I'd like you to answer."
"You've got it. Andrea!" I envelope her in a tight hold, squeezing as she also competes to crush my ribs. "What's up, girl?"
"Oh, what a summer!" She exclaims as she breaks the hug to bounce around. Whatever had happened, it must have been something huge.
"I traveled the country, singing in music festivals and amusement parks and other things. It was so much fun but it's so great to be home!"
"I'm glad, it sounds like a lot of fun. You think you're going to be okay with boring old choir class?"
"My director already gave us the rundown for the year and it promises to be very exciting."
"That's great!"
"Where are you heading for third class?" Ryan asks me, having patiently waited for me to turn my attention back to him.
"AP Chem. You?"
"Biology. I guess we're going the same way."
"Guess so." I chuckle, finishing my drink and taking the second one from Ryan as we move away from our friends.
His summer was more eventful than mine. While I'd been working at Reggie's every day, he'd gotten a year-round job with stable hours and advancement opportunities. He also moved houses, got a car, lost a family member to an accident, lost his dog early into the summer and gotten a puppy two weeks ago. The poor guy! He was so excited to be back at school, where nothing happens.
He sits beside me in my next classroom, chatting while I play with his hair. When the bell rings, he waits as long as he dares before leaving for his own classroom. I miss his touch the moment he leaves.
After Chem, I have AP Stats with Jazz. The hour is more fun because he's there, but the teacher would be completely unreliable. He's been at the school for too long, teaching the same thing, so he is impatient with those who ask questions, as if we'd taken this class before and should already know the answers. He also has a reputation for being a flake; he'd promise to do what he could to help the student in trouble, but then he'd go back on his word and leave them to drown with no remorse. Any late assignments or questions in class would lead to disaster. I'd have to write my questions in my notes and then get answers during Study Hall.
Lunch is great. I get to eat a decent meal, plus a treat. We still haven't finished talking about our summers so our group is a mess of partners just talking over each other.
The next class is what I have been waiting for; Drama 3. Most of us have it together, so we walk as a group for the most entertaining 'Welcome back!' of the year.
Our drama teacher has experience as a professional actor. He's been in a lot of musicals and plays, and he's gotten roles in a few movies and TV shows, but nothing that made him stand out. Despite his supposed failure as an actor, he still loves the job, and this is the one day he shows it.
We step into the room, which is bigger than the other performing arts classrooms. It's black, with no padding or color anywhere, and there's a small stage in the middle of the room with about twenty chairs gathered around it. On the walls are photos of productions and years from the past, showing classes all the way back to the school's opening.
Along the back wall are three tables lined with souvenirs from previous productions. There are papers on a black table by the door, which I grab when I walk by. I also notice a giant banner hanging above the mini-stage. It reads 'Welcome Back!' in at least five different colors with almost too much confetti glued to it, and there's confetti all over the floor.
And on center stage is the teacher himself; Mr. Einsprig.
"Good afternoon, juniors!" He's dressed in a sparkly, outdated costume, holding a microphone and pulling moves from an era gone by with every other word. He looks so ridiculous that we couldn't help but laugh. "Don't forget to grab those papers by the door, and make sure they're kept in order. Backpacks under your seat, there we go. Cell phones off and in the bin, please." He gestures to a lonely pedestal off stage left, where a single clear bin sits. I pull out my cell phone to turn it off, drop it in the bin as I walk by, and find a seat among my friends just as the late bell rings and the door closes.
"No need for notes." He says, eyeing a student I haven't seen before. "This is a class where the learning you'll be doing is here on this stage. Let's take roll!" Christian, Einsprig's long-time right hand student, hands him a clipboard that has seen better days. "We have a new student this year. Why don't you stand up and introduce yourself, son?"
The kid who tried to take out a notebook stands up and makes his way to the stage. Every girl in the class squirmed in that girly way, even the dragon reacts! I could feel her take notice of the boy and she starts pulling at her restraints.
Okay, I admit it. He's cute; with rich brown hair, arms of toned muscle that connects to a thick torso and lean hips. And those legs! I'm sure he would tower over me by at least a foot. Wait, stop! I shake my head to get a grip. Ryan is my boyfriend and I shouldn't be thinking these thoughts about anyone else.
The dragon fights against me, roaring and swiping her claws. I could feel two emotions emanating from her; attraction, and rage. I feel her fury rise like molten lava in my chest, and I'm taken aback. Neither of us understood why she's angry - this boy has done nothing to us to deserve her wrath. And why is she so interested in him anyway? She's never reacted to any boy like this, not even Ryan! But the dragon's instincts have always proven themselves, and they tell her this kid - as alluring as he is - is bad news.
As if he didn't know or didn't care about the feeling that has swept through the girls, the new kid begins to address the class just as I finally wrangle the dragon back to her corner.
"Uhm, hi. I'm Reese, spelled R-H-Y-S." He lowers his head and clears his throat. When his head comes up, I see just how wide and blue his eyes are.
They aren't sky blue; they're deeper, like a gemstone. A deeper blue than a sapphire. The term 'cobalt' comes to mind, but I'm not sure if that's the best fit because I've never seen a cobalt gemstone before. And yet, I know I've seen those eyes before, but where?
I nearly lose myself in thought as I stare into his irises, and I swear that those eyes are locked onto mine. Deep blue meets equally deep green in a way that makes me think of two acquaintances saying hello. Then he brings up one corner of his smile and his eyes take on a slightly darker hue, just a hint colder. He flashes a hint of teeth that could have been predatory or nervous. Are his teeth sharper than a regular human's?
"I moved here a couple weeks ago from the east coast." He continues in a quiet and subdued way. He digs into his pockets, and I could see his hands wrap themselves into fists through his jeans. "Uhm, I love drama but I act for fun and I have no plans to pursue it as a career. I haven't been in many big roles but that's fine. I'm 17 and I'm glad to be here." The class applauds, and he bows before making his way off-stage.
"Thank you, Rhys, and welcome to our school." Einsprig makes a note on the roll sheet before he turns his attention back to us. "Now, on with roll! Alicia."
While Einsprig is busy, I turn to my friends. They want to talk about Rhys, and I listen in, but I keep my thoughts to myself. My eyes are trained on the new guy, not wanting him out of my sight for even a second. So I'm the first to notice when he comes our way.
"Hello." I speak up, nudging Bella, the one who wouldn't shut up about him, as I stand. "Rhys, right?"
"Yeah, that's right. Nice to meet you." He smiles, now charming as a prince as he reaches out his hand.
"Nice to meet you, too." I shake his hand, and a cold shock rolls down my spine as he flashes that predatory smile again. "I'm Josephine." I stutter nervously as I fight to subdue the dragon as she lunges outward again.
"Josephine." He whispers as he bends at the waist to kiss my hand. I stop breathing as his lips contact my skin. My heart freezes and my chest hurts, and yet his hand feels warm. How strange; human skin usually feels cold against mine because my body temperature is higher than normal. For his skin to feel warm, he'd have to run the same temperature.
When he straightens, I chuckle nervously and pull my hand back. He stares into my eyes for another moment, then turns to my friends. They swarm around him, asking him questions, and I take the opportunity to retreat. I rush to the bathroom down the hall, doing my best to sort out the dragon's thoughts.
I'm gone for most of the class, and am no closer to answers when I retake my seat. I could feel his eyes on me, following me with every step I take. I pay no attention to him as I rejoin my friends and dive into the conversation.
The next class is my second Study Hall. Again, they decorate parking spots while I work on my newest sketch, finally going over the outer lines with my black pencil and using my colors to bring the image to life.
My drawing features a small family of dragons; two nuzzling adults and five hatchlings playing around them, in a field of wildflowers bordered by ancient pine trees, butterflies and brightly-colored skies with a sun that shone down a radiant but gentle light. The mother's gorgeous; her scales are a deep purple that seemed to have a life of their own, and she has a lithe body that hides how much power she possesses. She isn't as brawny as her mate, which only accentuates her feminine qualities, but she made up for that with the amount of love she held in her eyes.
The male, on the other paw, towers over his mate. His muscles are pronounced and thick, his claws sharp and ready for battle, scales as red as blood. He's on guard, and ready to pounce at anything that comes too close to his family, even a rabbit. And even as he returns his mate's affection tenderly, he keeps his eyes trained on their surroundings while his mate watches the offspring. They make a wonderful pair, each attuned to the other's movements and thoughts while they watch for any danger.
The hatchlings have too much fun playing to notice their parents. A small blue female chases a butterfly as it flutters on the breeze. Meanwhile, her older sister practices her stalking skills on a vigilant squirrel. In the center of the scene, two hatchlings tumble together in a play fight. One of them is a dark green female, and the other is a golden male. They fascinate me, and I add a halo of light to showcase them. I could sense that this scene is important, but I couldn't figure out why.
The end of the day finally comes, and I drag my feet on the way home. I didn't want to get to the house and see my family's faces. But I would have to grin and bear it again, as usual. Besides, tonight I have a date with Ryan. I need to do my chores and get ready!
Buoyed by the reminder, I run the short distance to the house and notice that only one of the four cars is not in its spot; Dad's. Great, he's not home yet. I want to avoid that creep most.
I unlock the door and step in, immediately knowing that the house is empty. All the scents are stale, and there isn't a single sound in the house; not even breathing.
"That's weird." I mutter as I walk into the kitchen. Taped to the counter, white against black granite, is a note.
The four of us are at a business event. Get your chores done then you can do what you want. My mother's handwriting is nearly illegible, scrawled in her hastiness. On the next paragraph, she has a detailed list of the chores she expects me to do. I curse as I calculate how much time each task would take me.
"Awesome!" I mutter apathetically, plugging my phone into the nearby wall charger and adjust the settings; screen light fully down, ringer on, music volume to maximum and connect it to the Bluetooth system built into the house. I put on the most bass-driven song that never fails to get me pumped. With that playing loud and clear from every room in the house, I breeze through my chores.
I've given myself a deadline of about four hours, and I meet it with half an hour to spare, leaving me time to pamper myself during my shower.
With a sigh of relief, I make quick adjustments to my schedule as I send a text off to Ryan with the time I want him to be there, and my recommendation on what he should wear to the restaurant. As I make my way upstairs to my bathroom, I review the day's events; I'd gotten through another day of school, finished all my chores, my boyfriend and I are going on a date for the first time in months, my endorphins are high and I'm feeling good about what tonight holds in store.
After my shower, I easily pick out my dress; a bright green v-neck, sleeveless dress with a black sash around my waist, and black lace layered over the green fabric. Black flats complete the outfit. But I hesitate when I open my bathing suit drawer. I never leave the house without one on, but could I risk it tonight? I'm not expecting to go for a flight, but anything could happen. I decide that I could at least wear the black bikini so it would fit with the dress' design and stay out of sight.
With my bikini and dress on and my hair styled, I turn to my make up. I keep things simple; just the basic powders, a hint of mascara, and a green and gray smoky eye effect to bring the elegant and classy element my outfit needs.
Ryan shows up at my door while I double check my list. I see him pull into my driveway and rush out to meet him.
"Hey, hun!" I greet him as I slide into the tiny two-door sedan and reach over to give him a kiss.
"I like how you say hello." He whispers, teasing. I chuckle and nudge him with my elbow.
"Come on, we have to get going. The last show is at ten."
"Okay, okay." He replies as he backs out of the driveway. "So, where are we going for dinner?"
"Reggie's?"
"That explains the clothes." He mutters as we drive down the street, heading for the freeway.
"You said anywhere, and this is our first chance to celebrate our second anniversary. But if you want to go somewhere else -"
"Nope! No, I said anywhere, and I meant it. Reggie's it is."
"Thank you, babe!" I lean over again to give him a kiss on his cheek as he maneuvers us onto the freeway. "This is going to be a great night, I can feel it."
After fifteen minutes of turning up the radio and singing our hearts out, we finally pull into the parking lot that dwarfed the high school's. Valets wait outside the front door, wearing white dress shirts and black dress pants and fresh black sneakers. Meanwhile, customers in their best outfits parade through the door. Knowing the wait would be almost too long for my stomach to handle, I get out to get our names on the list while Ryan waits in the valet line - which is just as long of a wait as the one I face.
Inside, the hostess is fast at taking names, so it doesn't take as long as I thought to get my name on the list. And just as I go outside to find a wall to sit on, Ryan comes strolling towards me. And boy does he look good!
His medium-length blond hair is lightly moussed and carefully combed in a way that made it neat, but that'd turn into a sexy tossed look if I run my fingers through it. He wears a shamrock-green vest, making his green eyes pop against his hair, over top a white dress shirt. His sleeves are tight against his arms, pronouncing the muscles he usually tries to hide. His pants and shoes are a stark white, giving a beautiful contrast to the vest.
I smile and rush to greet him, wrapping my arms around him and planting a chaste but heated kiss on his lips.
Usually, I have trouble displaying affection - even for my boyfriend - when I'm out in public. I just feel too watched and judged. But tonight, I don't care. There' s something wondrous in the air, giving it a zing and promises of infinite possibilities. I didn't care about what the strangers might say.
It isn't just my desire to drain my boyfriend's wallet for one night that drove me to Reggie's. This was the place where he and I had first met, during the summer of my transition into high school. He had just gotten a job as a busboy, and they hired me 'under the table' to wash the dishes during service hours, and then I cleaned the rest of the place after service. It was a summer of grueling hard work, but there were other students, including Jazz, so I didn't have the full burden. And the hours were great, fitting a creature of the night like myself who had nothing on her summer planner except working.
Actually, its the same schedule after my third summer. By now, they know who I am, and how hard I work. This year, I was the most senior teenager so I got to be in charge, and enjoyed a pay raise of about ten silver as compared to my first summer.
Since we both had open schedules until the fall, mine and Ryan's shifts overlapped several times a week. I had noticed him right away, since he was the oldest and hottest of the teenagers on that shift. It took a few more weeks for him to notice me, the girl who stuck to herself and seemed to blend into every shadow. Our moment of fate didn't come for several weeks.
I had dropped a plate in the dining room after service, and he rushed over to help me. His hand grazed mine as we reached for a broken piece, we looked into each other's eyes, the world fell away and the rest is history.
On our days off, Ryan and I would stay in town, sitting in the park and talking, and we'd talk after-hours while I did my cleaning even though he was losing sleep. The three months of summer passed by in a dizzying and thrilling blur. By the time school began, I had a boyfriend and a great story to tell my children someday. I imagined then, and I continued to imagine today, that those children would be Ryan's.
"Josephine, party of two, your table is ready. Josephine, party of two." A hostess on the loudspeaker calls, drawing our attention. Ryan and I break apart and move towards the door. We both smile and I entwine my arm with his, then he settles his hand over mine.
"You look beautiful." Ryan whispers, earning him a smile and another kiss.
"Thank you. You look wonderful, too. You should dress up more often."
They show us into the dining room and to a corner booth that balanced perfectly between candlelight and darkness. In true gentlemen fashion, Ryan waits for me to slide in and orders both our drinks and entrees. My preferred dish hasn't changed in all this time, so he knew what I wanted and how I liked it. I enjoyed his gentlemanly manners; they showed me he truly cared, and it gave me another excuse to soak in the image before me.
"So, two years, huh? Wow." He whispers once the waitress is gone, shaking his head as he slides next to me.
"Yep. I was going into freshman year that summer."
"You were so timid, and you kept your face hidden behind your hair. You reminded me of a beaten puppy."
"I guess I wasn't one of the happiest souls back then."
"I'm glad that changed. Everyone should be happy as we are. Heck, if I could, I would wipe the world of unhappiness. But I can't, so I'm just going to make do."
"Well, you've already done the world good by helping me break out of my shell, and you helped our friends when they were down. You inspired them to look on the bright side of things, to work hard for what they want. All of us are who we are now because of you, and I don't know where we'd be without you. I know that I wouldn't be in a good place." Ryan blushes at my sincere words and rubs the back of his neck nervously, ducking his chin towards his chest.
"I don't know about all that. All I know is that you changed into a beautiful, confident, independent young woman and I couldn't be prouder of you."
Now it's my turn to blush, and I hide it by drawing my boyfriend in for a kiss.
The food eventually arrives and our meal is dominated by a silence fraught with wordless flirting and stolen glances. It's a sharp contrast against our usual tactics, but it's no less thrilling. Being dressed up the way I am, and with the mood I'm in, I decide a bit of flirting and using my feminine charms is exactly what we need to start our second year off right.
When dinner's over, Ryan and I lay in silence in his car, finding ourselves with extra time before the show. Ryan takes out two stashed pillows and stretches on the back seat, and then I settle on his chest. He puts one arm propped against his head for support while the other traces shapes on my right arm. I take comfort in hearing his heartbeat and the feeling of his touch. I wrap my left arm against his side and try for a prolonged half-hug.
While I love the silence, it has a drawback - sharpened hearing. And with my ear pressed against his lungs, I would have heard it even if there was a train roaring just inches away from the car.
"I love you."
My heart stops.
"Josie?"
Oh, he meant to say that? He meant for me to hear it?
I sit up and look deep into his eyes, and I gently stroke his cheek, remembering our many moments together. And just like that, I know what I feel and what I need to do.
I love him back, with my whole heart! But I can't say it yet.
"Josie, what -" He pauses mid-sentence as he sees I'm smiling my best 'over-the-moon- happy' smile. He smiles too and then he kisses me.
I wish I could stay silent and keep my true nature a secret for the rest of my life, but I have to test him before I tell him I love him. I need him to prove that he could handle the real me before we go any further. Oh, Ryan, please pass! I can't survive without you!
"I have to show you something." I whisper to him as I open the door at my feet and climb out, Ryan hesitantly following behind without a word.
Our spot is already secluded, being a back-alley with only one working light. No one passed by without me hearing them approach. It's a great stage.
I stop and turn to face him, finding Ryan right on my tail. If he's that close when I reveal myself, he'll get hurt.
"Can you back up?"
With a confused look on his face, he obliges. Poor guy doesn't know what he's in for.
"I have to show you something, and I need your promise you won't tell anyone."
"What?"
"Please, tell no one. Not our friends, not your parents, not even your counselor. Not a single soul. Ever."
"Why? What could be so secret it'd warrant a promise like that?"
"Please."
"All right. I promise not to tell a soul about your secret. And that's a promise I'll take to my grave."
"Thank you. And, after this, remember that even after what you're about to see, I'm still me. I'm still Josephine, your girlfriend."
"Honey, you're scaring me."
"I'm sorry."
I take another step back into the only light in the alley. Without another word, I reach down and take off the dress, revealing my bikini. Thank god I had decided to wear it!
I take off my necklace and heels, and gently lay everything to the side. When I look at him again, I'm dressed only in my black bikini. Ryan narrows his eyes and cocks his head in a confused way. Why was my bikini such a secret?
I breathe deeply once, close my eyes and begin my transformation, searching out the heat that resides in my stomach. I find the hot energy, will it to expand in my belly, then I open the floodgates to my limbs and allow the heat to spread.
Starting at my fingers and working its way up my arm, the heat flows through me, transforming me with every inch it touches. My pale skin turns green, hardens and cracks into scales. My fingernails grow into claws, my fingers lengthen and thicken, and my palms shift into a paw. Bones shift and grow, muscles move, organs re-position themselves. As the transformation reaches my back and legs, the changing bone structure pitches me forward onto all four paws.
I growl as my vocal cords, neck and mouth change. My teeth grow sharp and long, my jaw and nose elongates, horns sprout from the back of my head. My hair shortens, then fix themselves into the horns that line my spine. My limbs grow longer, making my body grow so I tower over Ryan. A tail and wings emerge from my back and I flap to help ease them into position.
As my transformation ends, I open my eyes and find Ryan frozen in place, staring at me with a mixture of shock and horror. His eyes are huge, mouth gaping, his chest moves slightly with every stuttering breath.
The longer I watch him, the more his eyes widen. He takes a half-step back. Knowing I'd lose him if I didn't do something, I whimper as I bring my head to his level.
He remains still... until my breath hits him in the face and ruffles his hair.
He suddenly jerks backward.
And he screams, much louder than anything I've heard before.
Startled by the sudden noise, I scramble backward. But in the next instant, I can only watch as he turns his back and runs as if the devil will swallow him whole.