Rejecting Him

Where are they, do you see 'em?" I asked, peering around the bar. I wasn't sure who or what exactly I was looking for, but maybe whoever we were meeting would wave, or approach us, or something. One could only hope.

"There, in the corner!" Maya pointed to a cozy booth where two guys about our age sat. One was gorgeous, with light brown skin, long black hair, and a skinny-yet-toned body. His boy-next-door face was soft and round, yet smooth, and he broke out into an easy grin at his friend's joke.

The friend, I could take or leave. The summer had given him a nice tan and he had short, shaggy blonde hair. His eyes were hidden behind glasses and he wore a Dr. Who t-shirt.

Nice choice for a date, I thought. But then again, with my jeans, Uggs, and tank top, I was in no place to judge.

I had half a mind to ask Maya which one I was pairing up with, but like at home I decided to keep it to myself. Instead, I asked, "Shall we?"

Maya grinned and looped her arm through mine. "We shall!"

The guys looked up at us as we approached the table. Glasses dude seemed taken aback at Maya, and in the dimness of the bar, which wasn't much to me because of my werewolf-enhanced eyesight, I could have sworn I caught a little blush tinging his cheeks.

"Take a seat," he said, gesturing to the booth. Maya and I slid in across from them.

"Callie, this is Bryson and Logan," Maya said. She gestured to Glasses and Long Hair as she said their names. "Bryson, Logan, this is my friend, Callie."

Bryson, the guy with the glasses, raised his eyebrows at me. "Huh. Guess I'm gonna have to impress two ladies tonight!"

Smart man, I thought with a smile. Out loud, I replied, "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you. I don't bite."

Logan stifle a laugh. "Shouldn't be too hard anyway. I think you're stuck with me tonight."

The up-and-down appraisal I gave Logan would have earned me the Look from Mom, a human that my Dad had chosen not to change. I had inherited her spunk and spine of steel.

"I wouldn't exactly call it stuck," I said.

"Good," Logan said with a grin.

***

The night passed easily and freely. We split a large plate of Pad Thai with rice and curry, as well as pot stickers, and the guys ordered red wine for us. I sipped lightly on the wine; full moon wasn't too far off my by calendar--both the one I had at home and the app on my phone--so I felt it was in our best interest if I stayed sober. Nobody liked a drunk, closeted werewolf.

Bryson was nice. A little dorky, but nice. The wine seemed to loosen him up and it didn't take long before Maya was busting up at his jokes. Apparently she was also a fan of Dr. Who; the references that she and Bryson exchanged zinged right over my head. As they argued over the merits of the various doctors, I felt a light tap on my ankle and glanced up to meet Logan's eyes. His gaze slid to Bryson, then back to me and he gave me a small smile.

"Is he normally this smooth with the ladies?" I asked softly. Logan's head shake was barely perceptible.

"He always tells these jokes. Girls don't even laugh this hard."

"Well, she's a dork too, so…" I trailed off with a shrug. Then, catching myself, "Not that being a dork's a bad thing--"

"It's cool, don't worry. We like to think that dorks are more interesting." Logan winked. "It's just that he's socially awkward. We went to high school together, and it was a bit hard for him to talk to girls. Honestly, I think this is good for him."

"Let me guess, you're the wingman?"

Logan tried his best to look innocent, which elicited a laugh from me. "Ah, young love," was all he said. I tapped him on the ankle in return.

"Don't change the subject."

"But look how cute they are!" he cooed.

The night air was warm on my skin. Logan and I walked off our dinners around the waterfront, my favorite part of the city. I loved seeing the buildings shining across the water, their lights like tiny jewels on the glassy, obsidian surface of the Willamette River. Not far from us, tied up just down below, were several boats alive with the activity of their occupants. The waterfront had pretty decent acoustics; one didn't need to be a werewolf to hear the thumping party music rising up from the boats.

"Honestly, I'm a little surprised I passed that class," Logan admitted. We'd been talking about anything and everything that came to mind on our little path. The conversation had circled around to school, how I hadn't yet picked my major, and how Logan wanted to be a writer. "I think I just got by on my homework scores."

"Bullshitting makes the world go round," I agreed, nudging him playfully. He nodded ruefully.

"Story of my life," Logan sighed. "But the thing is, I just didn't care about the books we studied, or the writing assignments… Like--I can do a thesis, no problem. Bullshitting, like you said. But when we had to do some creative nonfiction thing about a memory or whatever? There's not a lot of interesting stuff that happened in my childhood."

"Oh?"

"My brothers were the tree climbers. Drove my parents crazy. I just stayed in my room with my books." He laughed, a far-off look in his eyes.

"Should've joined them."

"I would've, if I'd known that my teachers would be so nosy!" Logan joked. He rested his hand on my upper back, between my shoulders. I repressed a shiver at the sudden contact. "What about you, Callie?"

"I hate to admit it--stereotypes and all--but math. It's never been my strong suit."

"Has it ever been anyone's?" he said.

"Well, I have yet to meet someone who doesn't need a calculator. I'm kinda like you. I like the creative stuff. But I've never been able to mesh well with my art teachers. There was always some kind of limits they put on us. One teacher hated anime for some stupid reason. And another? Well, we were given some symbolism thing but when I turned in my piece, she told me I did it wrong. I just don't think she got it."

"Hipster."

"Quiet, you!"

We laughed together, then lapsed into a comfortable silence. It was when I leaned on the guardrail overlooking the river that I smelled it again.

The wolf in me was ready to bound away, to track down that scent to the ends of the earth if it had to. The human in me clung to the rail till my knuckles turned white, fighting the urge to give in to the wolf. I'd always been the weird kid growing up. In the Arts Magnet system, where the majority of the students were human, you go to the next school with people you knew. Far too many people in the student body knew me as "that weird girl who acts like a dog" to ever want to take their chances at a friendship. It wasn't until college that I got my blank slate and was able to make some friends outside the werewolf community.

I liked Logan too much. Like Maya, he was a touchstone of normalcy in a sea of weirdness and pack politics. He was cute, and I felt like we were clicking. I wasn't about to fuck it up by following some phantom scent. Carefully, I lifted my head and drew in as quiet a breath as I could manage. Yes, it was the same scent, that mix of cologne, blood, wet dog. I suppressed the shudder that threatened to run through my body.

"Am…am I boring?" Logan asked, uncertainty lacing his voice. I jumped and whirled around.

"Huh? Oh, um, not at all," I stammered.

"Okay. 'Cause, ah, I was just saying, my dad and I used to go fishing here when I was a kid but you seemed distracted…"

"I'm not, trust me." I paused as I went to rest my hand on his. Not yet. "If there's anything you should know about me, it's that I'm a major space cadet."

My laugh sounded forced to my ears, but I hoped he wouldn't notice. When Logan broke into a tentative smile I allowed myself to relax.

"So, what about your family? What are they like?" Logan asked.

I took a breath, released it, as I tried to figure out how much to reveal. No way was he ready for me to come out as a werewolf, and the last thing I ever wanted to do was to involve a human in pack business.

"We're a large family," I began. "And very…unique."