Blue & Green
01
"She did not know that the wolf was a wicked sort of animal and she was not afraid of him."
It had been raining heavily the night before, soaking the ground with water, making it hard to walk on. Throw in the frigid New York temperature, low fifties, and it was a dangerous combination for those with balance problems.
Chloe Saunders tugged her blood-red hoodie tighter around her shivering frame as she stomped her feet, mud sucking at her boots.
"Why does your dad live so far away in the woods?" asked the tall, dark-haired girl beside her, squinting up into the bare branches.
"Tori, I don't know. My mom..." Chloe said, brushing her curls away from her face as she peered down the muddy trail.
"That doesn't mean you can take off," Tori grumbled, crossing her arms over her perky but prominent breasts. "Well, I've gotta go. I'm with Diane this weekend," she said with a curl of her lip and turned, trotting away. "Be careful," she hollered.
Chloe smiled and waved back. "I will!" But as Tori's jerky running figure grew smaller and smaller, she felt a sharp wave of fear and the prickle that someone was watching her closely. She turned and she caught a glimpse of a deer bolting away.
Her cheeks heated. Don't be stupid, she told herself, it's just your imagination. Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders, gripping her backpack straps, and headed down the long, winding path.
As her feet took her farther and farther from town, she felt a growing sense of dread.
The sky was darkening as she continued down the trail, feeling her heart beat faster and faster, loud and clear in her ears. Twigs snapped and bare branches rustled, the sound dry and frightening.
It's nothing, it's nothing, it's nothing, she chanted as she picked up the pace, keeping her eyes on the trail. Suddenly, she ran hard into something.
Strong, hot arms encircled her.
She let out a shrill scream and flailed her arms wildly.
"Calm down, Jesus, I won't hurt you," sighed a familiar voice.
Chloe tilted her head back and let a smile crawl across her face.
It was Ramon, his dark hair falling in chunks around his high, jutting cheekbones and scraping just shy of his flirty smile. His black leather jacket was damp to the touch and, when she pulled away, she found it was slick with something thick and red.
"Are you—" she began, wide-eyed as she took in his bruised lips, swollen nose, and various cuts and scrapes.
"I'm fine, cupcake," he laughed, patting her head but his swollen lip made his words sound thick.
"You sure?"
"Yes, yes." He ran a hand through his hair. "Where are you off to? It's supposed to rain something horrible tonight," he said, finger tracing a cut on his cheek. "'Sides, isn't this place full of dead critters? Remember last time you came into the woods? You scared the entire town shitless by accidentally—"
"Stop!" she shrieked, hand flying to clamp over his mouth. "Don't talk about it or I-I'll…" Her voice wavered.
"Sorry. Slipped my mind." He leaned back, hands tucked into his pockets.
"I'm off to my dad's. Aunt Lauren said he was sick." She shrugged a shoulder, shaking the contents of her tiny backpack.
"Some soup?" He took a place at her side and together; they made their way to her father's house.
When someone answered the door, Chloe was startled to see a pretty woman with dark eyes.
"Oh," Chloe said, eyes widening.
The woman was very attractive, with lots of robust curves and her breasts nearly spilled out of her shirt, although it wasn't anything risqué. Her dark eyes flittered to Ramon, lowering a bit, and then to Chloe, an elegantly manicured hand reaching to twist a dark copper-brown braid around a finger, a strike contrast against her dark, dark skin.
"Steve?"
Her sweater stretched across her wide hips when she turned back and rose up, revealing a small, circular tattoo on her right hip. It looked like a star intertwined with a sun.
Chloe glanced at Ramon.
He nodded.
So this woman was a werewolf, just like Ramon and Derek.
"What is it, Jacinda?" Chloe's dad called as he walked out of the kitchen, dressed in his worn jeans and a grey cable-knit sweater, looking very healthy and very much happy.
She clenched her jaw. "Aunt Lauren made you soup," she managed to choke out, blinking away the hot tears filling her eyes. "She said you were sick, but I can see that you obviously aren't."
"Sweetie—" Steve looked torn.
"You could've just told me," she said softly. "I would've been happy for you. Did Aunt Lauren know? Does the entire damn town know? How do I, your own daughter not know?" Her voice was rising, shriller and shriller, the sound making her ears ring with the ferocity and intensity. The tears made themselves known, spilling down from her eyes and running down her cheeks.
Jacinda stepped forward. "I thought you did know," she murmured in a soft, slight accented voice. She looked genuinely concerned.
"Apparently, no one tells me shit around here!" Chloe spat.
"Language!" Steve hissed.
"Don't act like you care just because your girlfriend's here. Did you tell her about Mom? Did you tell her about me?" Her voice cracked, to her growing anger and horror. "Fuck off!" she yelled and threw the bag at him, hearing it crash to the floor when Steve dropped it. Soup spread across the fabric, darkening it.
Chloe turned on her heel and ran.
"I'm sorry." Those were the first words out of her best friend Derek's mouth when she saw down on the embankment next to him and pressed her face into his bicep.
He gently stroked her hair, letting her cry and run snot all over his arm until she couldn't cry anymore and handed her a crumpled pack of Kleenex.
"Thanks," she muttered as she took one and blew her nose. "I just—I wish he'd told me, you know? Instead of just keeping quiet," she whispered, her voice thick from crying.
Below them was the bank of a little creek and she threw a flat stone angrily into it.
"Maybe he wasn't ready to tell you," he said and she squinted at him.
"I understand that but—but—"
"But what?" He wrapped a thick, hard arm around her and she sighed, tearing at the clean side of the Kleenex.
She felt a calm wash over her as he rocked them gently; she loved being in his arms, being close to him.
"It's Rae's mom," she blurted.
"Evil bitch Rae who showed up completely drunk and stoned to your mom's funeral?" he whispered.
"Yeah."
They relaxed until he broke the silence.
"Well, shit."