Chuckling, Mr. Stone released me. ‘We can do as we please when you are eighteen,’ he said.
My eighteenth birthday was two months away; too far for my liking.
‘What do we do until then?’ I asked.
Mr. Stone reached out and stroked my hair affectionately. ‘We be extremely careful.’
‘Does that mean you want to be with me?’ I asked hopefully.
He smiled warmly, his green eyes creased at the sides. ‘I want to be with you very much, Rose.’
I smiled widely. ‘As – as my boyfriend?’
Mr. Stone smiled. ‘Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?’
I hadn’t meant for it to sound that way. I shrugged. ‘Maybe.’
He laughed at my discomfort. ‘No, not as your boyfriend.’
How cruel of him to laugh at my feelings
. I was about to retort when he pressed a finger to my lips.
‘As your mate,’ he whispered.
My knees almost gave way
. My pack mate.
‘But,’ he began, and I felt my heart drop. There was a
but
.
‘But what?’
‘But … please do not get any ridiculous notions in your head about the traditional roles of a boyfriend. We can’t go on dates together, and we can’t be seen in public.’
‘I know,’ I grumbled.
Mr. Stone cupped my chin in his hand and tilted my head upwards so he could kiss me. I kissed him back longingly, wrapping my arms around his neck. He snaked his hands around my waist and pulled me close. My skin tingled as it had that morning.
To my dismay, Mr. Stone pulled away reluctantly. ‘Now, now. I can’t afford any distractions, little miss. I’ve got an awful lot of work to do.’
I sighed and slid my arms from around him. ‘Need help?’
He laughed. ‘And have you giving F’s to all the people you don’t like? I don’t think so.’
‘Well, how about I make you dinner?’
Mr. Stone raised his eyebrows. ‘Hm … All right. Deal.’
Two hours later and Mr. Stone was pushing his food around the plate.
‘Interesting, um … flavor,’ he said, chewing slowly.
I had failed miserably in my cooking attempts.
‘Sorry,’ I muttered. ‘I don’t really cook that much. I probably should have mentioned it before.’
‘It’s fine,’ he said, braving another mouthful. ‘It’s been a while since I had a home cooked meal.’
I wolfed down my own meal; I was starving, as I hadn’t eaten all day. That deer was probably the last thing I ate.
We sat on the floor in his living room, as he didn’t have a dining table. I rested my plate on the coffee table while Mr. Stone tried to grade numerous papers on his lap.
By six o’clock in the evening I was ready for bed; the previous night had drained me, and I would have no trouble sleeping for twelve hours straight.
Tom agreed, and together we retired to his bedroom.
‘I hope you don’t mind if I sleep in my boxers,’ he said, pulling his shirt over his head and revealing his torso.
I smiled and began to pull off my own clothes for his amusement. ‘I hope
you
don’t mind.’
‘Hmm? What do you wear to bed?’ he asked, eying my body approvingly.
‘Nothing,’ I smiled.
Mr. Stone growled and tackled me onto the bed, where he kissed me fiercely. I squealed as he nuzzled my neck. We rolled around on the bed, kissing and laughing like real lovers would. It didn’t progress any further than that; we were far too exhausted.
I felt strange, lying in between the sheets, completely naked. I never slept naked. I had an old band t-shirt I usually wore to bed, but this was a special occasion.
‘I feel like an adult, sleeping naked,’ I murmured, trailing my fingers through his chest hair.
‘Like a-!’ he scoffed. ‘Oh dear, sweet girl. You kill me when you say things like that.’
‘Sorry,’ I whispered.
We ended up falling asleep whilst embraced in each other’s arms.
Friday – 28 days to go
When I woke, it took a few moments for me to remember why I was so happy and comfortable.
Mr. Stone’s arm was wrapped around my waist. It felt nice, being spooned by him. He grumbled in his sleep, and pulled me closer. I rolled over so I was facing him, our noses an inch apart. I kissed his mouth, his forehead and his nose until he woke up.
Bleary eyed, and tousle haired, Mr. Stone blinked several times, trying to work out what was going on.
‘Good morning,’ I said brightly.
He smacked his lips together. He was absolutely adorable in the morning.
‘G’morning.’ Mr. Stone stretched luxuriously before enveloping me in his arms. ‘What day is it?’
‘Friday,’ I smiled.
He groaned. ‘Ugh … work.’
I laughed. ‘Yes, but today I’ll be there!’
‘You’re going to school today?’ he asked.
I nodded. ‘Of course.’
This seemed to awaken him more. ‘Hm … I don’t think I can drive you the whole way. People might get suspicious if they see you getting out of the car with me.’
‘You can drop me off a block or two away,’ I said. ‘Is that okay?’
‘And after school?’ he pressed.
I shrugged. ‘I thought I could come back here-’
‘No, Rose. I said one night only.’
‘I know,’ I said quickly, sitting up so the blankets fell off me, revealing my breast. Mr. Stone’s gaze lingered on my bosom for a moment before snapping back to my eyes.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m not used to seeing you naked.’
‘Well … you can see it again tonight,’ I said with a sly smile.
He wasn’t falling for my bait. ‘Rose … please. We must be careful. You
can’t
stay here.’
I sighed and flopped back down onto the pillow. ‘I don’t want to go home.’
‘You need to talk it through with your parents. Have they called again?’
‘I don’t know, I turned my phone off last night.’
‘If you don’t go back they’re going to call the police.’
He was right. I groaned and pressed my face into the pillow like a child might while having a tantrum.
‘All right,’ I said, my voice muffled. ‘I’ll go home.’
‘Before school,’ he said.
‘
Before
?’ I repeated, aghast.
Mr. Stone nodded sternly, and I saw that old teacher behind his eyes.
‘Fine,’ I grumbled. ‘I can’t even run away from home for more than twenty-four hours.’
Mr. Stone chuckled and played with the ends of my hair. ‘Well … we’d better get ready then, my sweet.’
When I turned my cell phone back on I saw that I had one hundred and eight missed calls, forty-two text messages, and eleven voice messages.
‘Call them,’ Mr. Stone urged, watching over my shoulder.
I sighed, but did as he asked.
The phone rang only once before it was answered.
‘Rose?’ my mother’s panicked voice said at once.
‘Yes, it’s me.’
‘My goodness.’ She sounded relieved, not angry. ‘Where are you?’
‘At a friends house,’ I lied.
‘You need to come home right now,’ she said. ‘I’ll pick you up. Where does your friend live?’
‘No, no. It’s okay. I’ll, erm, I’ll get dropped off before school,’ I said, catching Mr. Stone’s eye and seeing him nod.
Ten minutes later, at eight o’clock in the morning, Mr. Stone bundled me into his car with my bag, and drove me home. I wished I could stay with him longer, but I’d have to wait. Still, it wasn’t all bad.
I had a boyfriend. Or rather, a
mate
, as Tom had put it.
When Mr. Stone took me home that morning I did not want to get out of his car.
‘Will I see you this weekend?’ I asked, my hand on the door handle.
‘We’ll see,’ he smiled warmly. ‘I’ll text you.’
‘Okay.’
I leaned over to kiss him on the mouth, but he turned his head so I connected with his cheek. Feeling awkward, I hopped out of the car, and grabbed my bag from the trunk. He sped off as soon as I’d closed the trunk.
My mother and father were in the sitting room, cross-armed with sour expressions on their faces. I knew at once that I was in trouble for my little stunt.
They yelled themselves hoarse at me for twenty minutes, throwing guilt-trips at me, and grounding me until the next full moon. I didn’t yell back, or attempt to defend myself at all.
One thing was for certain though. I would not be leaving Halfway when they took their separate paths.
‘What has got into you?’ my mother was saying. ‘And who was that man that dropped you off? It was the same car as yesterday.’
‘Man? What man?’ my father demanded.
‘After her episode, a man in an old car dropped her off home. That was the same car that just brought her home now.’
‘Who is the man?’ my father rounded on me too.
‘How do you know him?’
I sighed. ‘He’s just a friend.’ Did I dare tell them that I’d found another like me?
‘He looks too old to be your friend,’ said my mother. ‘He’s probably some pervert! Picking up nude school girls, left, right and centre!’
My father nodded in agreement. ‘We have every right to call the police, I think.’
‘Did he touch you?’ my mother demanded.
‘No,’ I lied, breathing heavily through my nostrils. ‘He’s … he’s like me.’
‘What do you mean he’s like you?’ said my father.
‘No one is like you,’ my mother added.
I had to tell them. ‘He’s a werewolf,’ I said.
My mother flinched as if I’d said a disgusting swear word. ‘
Don’t say that word
,’ she scolded me.
‘How can you be sure?’ my father asked, his eyes narrowed.
‘Because when you
forgot
to take care of me on the full moon, I woke up in the forest next to him.’
‘That doesn’t prove anything!’ my mother said shrilly. ‘He’s just a pervert!’
I stood up angrily. ‘He is not. He is the same as me, and – and-’ I searched for the right words, but nothing came to mind.