Finally! I’ve left that stank hallway full of dullards behind me, and ahead there is nothing but freedom, sunshine and-

“Hold up, Kara.”

And more problems. Always, always, more problems.

Great. René is here. Should’a known it wouldn’t be this simple. It never is. I was prepared for Chayla, she is the most persistent. What the hell is this guy even doing here? Did Chayla bribe him? That doesn’t make sense, he already stinks of money. But I didn’t think René cared all that much. Like, we’re friends but we’re not close friends… Oh. Oooh. She agreed to do his homework for him. Now it all makes sense.

I suppose I should be flattered? If I had any patience left over, perhaps I would be a little. Too bad so sad, Bryan got to me first. I’m fresh out of patience and you’re shit out of luck, my dude.

Should I check if I have a ‘piss me off’ sign stuck to my back? Or a trouble magnet stuck to my shoe? I was so close, too. The bus stop is right there.

“I said wait.”

Oh, you did not just- I don’t like his tone today. No, I don’t like his tone any day. It’s hard to notice sometimes because of his a la Français accent, and I usually ignore it because it usually isn’t directed at me. But man is this fucker bossy. So this is how you wanna play it, huh?

“I’m busy today, Your Majesty, leave a message after the beep.”

I never stop walking, but I turn around long enough to flash a couple middle fingers. You see what I did there? Beep? Heh, that should do it right? Nothing like honest, up front communication. After all, the quack said that healthy relationships are built on healthy- …oh. She said healthy communication. Ah well, I got it half right.

“You are not funny. We want to talk to you. It won’t take long.”

From the corner of my eye, I catch his sneer. I doubt he even notices that he does that. A lot. He never did appreciate my sense of humour. Mostly because I actually have one. Gods, I don’t know what I ever saw in this guy. I can forgive Chayla cause, well, it’s obvious her annoying-ness is coming from a place of affection and worry. Excessively so. This guy just thinks he owns me. Thinks he owns the whole world for some reason.

To be fair he’s one of the many folks who I’m like 99.9% certain is a Shifter. A powerful one since I can sense him so obviously. And from what I’ve read some Shifters might really think they do own a lil’ Normie like me. But I don’t think that’s the problem here.

And I say Shifter because I know he can’t be a Variant since those guys can’t exactly hide, right? They can’t shift between their Normal form and their Mutant form because they only have one form in the first place. They’re full mutant erry’day all the time. I don’t even need to consider Sapient Beasts. Shapeshifters might exist, but René never wears a badge or an armband or anything.

This town might be illegal, but I don’t think they’d be stupid enough to let an actual Shapeshifter hang around a person who can sense the supernatural. There’s no way they haven’t realized I’m one of those Normies. The sensitive type. You know, the same kind as those that popped the first Bubble 100 somethin’ years ago? Yup.

Which means they would literally have to kill me. An unmarked Bubble is one thing, excusable as it’s probably secretly sanctioned by our corrupt governmental overlords. Now, an unmarked Beast consorting with a Wisewoman without her consent is whole ‘nother thing. That’s a breach of the Nephilim Act, circa 1949. As well as the 3rd Amendment to the Bi-International Constitution, circa…um, oh I don’t know. That constitution was created by the United Nations and Tribes in 1947. You can’t expect me to remember the dates of every amendment. If you need to know then Google exists. Go forth. Our wonderful and gracious overlords keep most supernatural information locked down, but not the laws. They make sure the general public is fully educated about those. Wouldn’t want anyone but them breaking those.

Anyways it won’t even matter that he’s gay. Cause basically, that kind of non-consensual fraternization is not just illegal, it constitutes a war crime. Some of us Sapiens can be weird about Beasts in human-like forms. I’m not prejudiced or anything, but it wouldn’t matter, the laws exist. It would be a bi-international incident. And thus, there’s no way they’d allow it hahaha.

They wouldn’t, right? Yeah, I’m just being silly. More importantly, His Highness is still here. Our little staring match doesn’t seem to have lowered his confidence at all, even though I won. He blinked first. Weak.

“Are you done playing around?”

Aw, poor baby needs to rub his eyes now. You’re just salty you lost the staring contest.

“You are drifting again. You need to stop getting so stuck in your head, it isn’t healthy. You wouldn’t have all of these weird ideas if you-”

“And this is why I don’t want to talk to you. Like, ever again probably.”

“You don’t mean that. We know this isn’t what you really want. There’s no reason to let things continue on in this way.” He sighs. Yet calls me dramatic. “Why don’t we stop by a Timmy’s and get something and talk this out? I’ll treat.”

Oh my, how generous, but this isn’t a problem a coffee is going to fix. Especially not with all the gaslighting and assumptions about my emotions and desires. If he’s Shifter, then he is one of the people who are in on it. Che. Like it’s a coincidence he popped into my life just a couple months after moving in?

I became friends with Chayla quickly because she’s the head of the welcoming committee for the school, and we ended up having a lot in common. I became friends with Jordan, well almost a little more than friends with Jordan but that’s over now and I’m not going to talk about it, like fuck why did I even think about that dick? Argh. Well, his parents and my mom were old friends so again, that made sense.

I didn’t notice it at the time because I didn’t know the truth about this place yet, but René didn’t even know Chayla at all until a couple weeks before she introduced us. Super suss right? He suddenly decides to join the student council after I befriend Chayla and then won’t leave either of us alone?

He thinks that him and his conspiracy accomplices all still have me fooled, but that’s because he’s an arrogant prick. I actually haven’t even told him, or any of my doubters, even half of what I know. I’m not a total idiot. And now he’s acting all upset that I iced him out and ghosted him. He has a lot of nerve. I’m not Jesus the Martyr, and I don’t plan on inviting Judas the Betrayer to dinner. Growing up Grandma made it pretty clear how bad a decision that was.

He really thinks he can control me. You poor deluded fellow. Narcissism is a legitimate mental illness, and I genuinely hope you get the help you surely need. You will be in my thoughts, and my daily prayers to Chonky Kitty-Wittums the Third. I wish you well during your recovery, hopefully in a facility a million miles away from wherever I happen to be. Sincerely, Kara.

Beautiful. I should get a job at Hallmark. Nah, I couldn’t do that to Mr. Long. He needs me! We’re not just a store, we’re a family! He’s Asian and I’m a pasty skin, so I’m obviously adopted, but family is family. That reminds me I have to work tomorrow don’t I.

Oops, got distracted again. Where was I? Oh yeah, ‘what did I ever see in this guy.’ In all seriousness though, I had a crush on him for a full 9 minutes when we first met. Chayla introduced us and did most of the talking at first while he just smiled his 1000watt toothy grin… and then 8 minutes later he started talking. I got over the accent quickly. The crush ended there. I didn’t even know he was gay yet. I found that out at minute 27. Thankfully, all hope was already lost.

I mean to be fair he does got the whole rich boy thing goin’ on. Polo shirts, platinum over-styled hair that does actually shine in the sun- I have no idea what shampoo he uses, he won’t tell me, so don’t ask I couldn’t tell ya -the star of the soccer team, the only team our school has that wins sometimes, French accent, ooh la la- you know the drill.

And now he’s lowered his almighty self to become my stalker. Cute. Would be attractive in a Rom Com. But it’s not a good look on you. Listen buddy, I only hung out with you because you were always hanging around Chayla. We might have been considered friends at some point, but that brief lack of common sense has already been corrected by me- for a while now. I know I’m super amazing and it must sting terribly, me avoiding you and all, but you’re annoying. And gay. So it could never have worked out between us-

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The fucker grabbed my arm. I know I got lost in my head there, but this is incredibly not okay. You don’t touch someone you aren’t prepared to kill, err- maim slightly. Is it still premeditated murder if you only planned it in your head? The shows never explain that part, the perps get caught because they bought rope first or something. If I just take him out, after some quick meticulous planning inside my vastly superior brain, then that would at most be a crime of passion, right? Could easily argue down to accidental manslaughter.

He ran into my fist. He ran into my fist 100 times.

I swear, ossifer.

Okay, enough fucking around. Time to fuck him up. If he really won’t let go.

Sigh. Why can’t I have this sort of effect on other guys? Emotionally available ones, for starters.

“You’re lookin’ for a black eye.”

“We just want to talk. Why do you have to be so difficult?”

“Because we’ve already had that conversation. A million times. My stance is not going to change. Your stance is not going to change. So there’s nothing left to say. Anything you do say will either piss me off or bore the shit out of me, so I’m not interested. Stop harassing me.”

“Don’t be dramatic. This isn’t harassment, we just-”

“I’m not going to ask politely a second time. Let go of my arm.”

“Okay. Okay! But can we just talk? Just for five minutes?” His hands are up in front of him, like I’d really punch him. We’re not quite there yet. But if you hadn’t let go… my knuckles would get a bit itchy, and I’d have to scratch them on your face.

“I’m going home. I have bus to catch. Not everyone has chauffeurs. Some of us have a schedule.” Ah, my sweet-sound-but-not-kind-words voice slipped out again.

“Really? We’ve been friends for two whole years, and you can’t spare five minutes of your time?”

“Sorry bro, I don’t control the busses. Take it up with the minister of transportation.” Do we have a minister of transportation? Whatever, that’s a you problem not a me problem.

“You can’t avoid us forever. Sooner or later, you are going to have to talk to us.”

“Let’s hope it’s later then, Frenchie. Byee.”

I hear of bunch of Angry French behind me I don’t understand because I never paid attention in French class. I do catch the last word though. Merde.

“I know that last one means shit, a-hole!”

No turning around this time, no middle fingers, I really do have a bus to catch, and the blockade from earlier already slowed me down. But I’m not a merde, you’re a merde, your whole family is merde.

Okay maybe not his family. I never met his family. They could be wonderful people. They’re probably not if their parenting end-result is anything to go by, but still. That was unfair. You should always give people the chance to disappoint you in person before making assumptions.

Huh… he really is a fake friend. What kinda friend hides his family for two years. Unless he’s an orphan and his chauffeur is his family. Hm… Unlikely. Time to stop sitting on the fence and officially write him off. Thanks for the excuse, sleazebag.

The air is cold in October, and the metal bench has had all day to soak in that chill. It’s okay though because my ass turns numb in few seconds. That’s… that is okay I think. Yeah my ass is fine. Like dayum fine.

Ah, sweet sanctuary. The bus stop near Lower Ashvale Composite High School is one of the few this side of town that doesn’t smell like shit. I mean, it doesn’t smell like merde. That fucker. Now I wish I knew more than just swear words. Well, one swear word. I only know that one. Wait a minute that little-

You taught me that one!

In a second I’m almost out of the enclosure with images in my head of my hands wrung around the neck of a very dead René before I reign in my emotions. Unfortunately, I can’t beat him up right now, there’s too much riding on tonight’s operation. Dammit. Argh. I should have fucking punched him when I had the chance. Ahh, the sharp sting of regret.

Next time. Next time I see you you’re going to lose either a tooth or an eyeball. This means war!

No. I don’t have time for a war. I’m far too busy with things of actual importance. Yes, that’s why. I’m not scared of his daddy’s lawyers.

Cough. Anyways where the hell is my bus? Chayla is going to catch up to me again at this rate. Now wouldn’t that just be great- ah fuck there I go. I flagged myself. Kara you fucking idiot. Damn. Damn. Damn. How is this my life? Things were so simple when I was young…er. Is this how old people feel? It makes so much sense now. No wonder all the folks in Grandma’s care home have those empty eyes. Years of regret will do that to ya.

Rubbing the grime off the glass affords me a good view of the school entrance. Giant, white roman pillars stand at each side of larger-than-necessary painted steel doors, with a long, rectangular, two-storied red brick building serving as the school proper. Small, caged windows with white trim line both floors with perfect uniformity, the only flaws being some chipped paint or random slightly dented bricks. A bunch of oblivious sheeple are still flooding out of our communal weekday prison.

But no sign of Chayla yet. Maybe I got lucky and Bryan And Friends didn’t learn anything from my moral correction procedure and blocked her off too.

Lucky?

HAHAHA… no really, where is she?

This chill in my spine won’t disperse until I can see my target. Hah, there goes René, sauntering off to the parking lot. I wonder what fancy-pants car will pick him up today, maybe the Mercedes? Could be the Lexus. Nah, it’s Friday so it’s either the Acura or the Bentley. The only constant is no matter what day or what car, there’s always someone sitting in the back seat. It’s impossible to see them through the tinted windows. I’ve only caught the cuffs of an expensive looking grey suit and ridiculously shiny black shoes.

It was the Bentley today. Che, pretentious little shit.

The front of the school is a one way only road, so His Highness needs to pass by my bus-stop-for-the-little-people. I give him another middle finger. Again, tinted windows, so no idea if he saw that but it’s gratifying all the same. I like to think he did. I like to think he’s pissed off. It makes me happy.

I’d be even happier if the fucking bus would-

There we go, right on schedule except not really but I’ll take it. Time to go home.

Time to start Operation Night Cat.

I’m… I’m still working on the name.

It takes me a hot minute to dig out my stupid Student Passbook from under my gym clothes, notebooks, pencil case, three textbooks, four small binders, and assorted loose papers. Did I mention I’ve been lugging this fucking thing around since noon? At least my Passbook is in here.

By the time I find the damn thing I’m already in front of the fare box, or as I like to call it, the Pay Pit. Who names these kinda things anyway? I can’t think of a single person who’s named something who’s lived up to the privilege.

Under the driver’s impatient stare, I manage to tear off a one-way pass and get it into the fare box’s tiny slit of an opening without spilling all the contents of my backpack onto the floor. That’s happened before. That was not a good day.

At least I remembered to grab the transfer this time or I’d have to use the Train Card and I only have 7 more rides left on that thing before I have to fill it up again. And that would require talking to both my mother and Mrs. Danner in the Student Office. I don’t wanna talk to either of those people.

Which is why, despite my excellent theatrics with René earlier, I am in no rush to get home. You see, mum works the double night shift tonight at the hospital so as long as I stall until 5:30 or so, we’ll miss each other. The Grand Plan is to get to December Park Station, and instead of catching the 4:10 train right away, I’ll head across the street to the Second Cup and camp out for a bit, drink some coffee do some homework, then catch the 5:10 train. By the time I get home mom woulda left and I’ll be in the clear. Easy-peasy lemon-squeezy, right?

Step one of the Grand Plan was to make it onto the bus without incident so that’s already checked off. The blockade of dullards and interference from René weren’t within my considerations but I made it onto the bus in the end, and there was even a free seat still available just for me. All in all, I think I handled things pretty well. I even remembered to zip my backpack closed again so the events of The No Good Very Bad Day – The Bus Episode won’t be repeated. No one likes a sequel.

I got this.

30 Minutes Later

…I don’t got this.

There’s no way. There’s just no way. People should have a limit for how much bad luck they can experience in one day. I’ve clearly already reached that limit. My poor heart can’t take much more of this. I’m not prepared. I am in no way prepared for this. It isn’t fair. How dare the universe act outside of my calculations more than two times in one day? This is a curveball!

The universe really is made from chaos particles.

Why? Why is Jordan here? He lives in the Ashwood Reservation. That lies in the far side of the valley, it takes a whole hour to get there from here, it’s the total opposite direction. And there’s nothing even important or relevant to his people in this part of town. There’s no reason for him to be here.

No reason other than me. Wait, no, there could be like so many other reasons. The chance of him seriously trying to visit me at my house is zilch. Nada. I mean I rejected him, and then I ghosted him. That was barely a week ago. Not to mention the fastest way to get to my house from the reserve is with the 194. That bus stops right behind my street. December Park is just the fastest way to get home from my school. That’s right, he wouldn’t be taking this route if it had something to do with me. Jeez, I’m being as arrogant as René.

It’s not all about you, Kara. There’s a conspiracy, sure, but not everything is connected. This is still a problem though. Even if he didn’t come here for me, he still might have seen me. I was out in the open and I didn’t notice him right away.

Crap, he didn’t see me, right? I ducked super fast, and he wasn’t even looking my way. Plus, there’s so many people in this station all the time. Yeah, and I’m behind a pillar and everything. I’m good, right? My heart needs to shut the fuck up with the thump-thumps I can’t hear my brain. I should be good. If he had seen me, he’d never leave me alone. I’m good, I’m fine, I’m well hidden. This pillar is both taller and wider than I am. I can see the domed entrance over there, but no one can properly see me. I just have to wait for him to leave.

There’s no way he knows I’m here.

But… he always seems to know things he shouldn’t know.

And… he’s a Shifter, too.