"Hey, Chris." Caleb said as he walked into her room.
"Chrissy," Lochlan said.
I ignored them both, and took the opportunity to look around her room. She had light, creamy carpet and a darker shade of cream on the walls. There was a golden chandelier hanging down in the center of the room; but it didn't seem like her type of decoration. Her furniture had a dark, polished wood theme and her bed was draped casually with a deep purple set of bedding.
"I see what you mean about 'not a dog' thing, Cal. He - it is a he, right? - He's huge! And check the teeth on him" Chrissy's golden voice penetrated my concentration. I melted. "And he's so handsome! What should we call him?"
"Tommy. After Edison," Lochlan suggested, winning an approving glance from Caleb. It was sickening the way that boy manipulated Chrissy to make him seem better.
"We could name him Freddie. After Freddie Mercury," Caleb said.
Well it could have been worse.
"Uh, gotta shoot guys," Lochlan said uneasily from the doorway where he had stayed when the rest of us moved inside. "Places to go, boys to perve on . . ." He shot Caleb a hard look before wandering back towards the beach.
I could have sniggered, were I in human form. Most likely, that guy had a date with a girl from the mainland, who didn't know about his supposed sexuality.
"Um, well, it's kind of late," Chrissy said, shifting from side to side. "Either you're dropping . . . Freddie . . . and running, or you're crashing here the night again."
Again. Inferred that it had happened before.
"I'd much rather stick around here than go home and face the olds. Georgina turned into a stalker. If she's not texting or ringing my cell, she's phoning the main line or calling around the house." He shook his head. "I should have stayed away. You've heard of the sexy but clingy librarian." He moved into Chrissy's room and flopped over onto her floor, putting one hand over his forehead. "But she was different. She was a . . . funky, confident librarian. Not a low self-esteem, boring librarian. I actually liked her."
"You shouldn't have come to the beach the other day."
"Yes, I should have. You're important, Chris. More important than any of the girls I've gone out with before."
I could have puked at the look on his face. He was milking her for all he was worth. She wasn't a cow.
Chrissy stroked my nose a little before leading me back into the white bathroom.
"Stay." Chrissy ordered me before shutting the door and turning back to the nutcase. "Bros before hos, Cal." She said impishly. I would have laughed if I could. For two reasons; the first was that it was funny to hear the slang coming out of her beautiful mouth; the second was because it was showing the creep exactly where he was on her list of dateable material. He was a bro. So he was low.
A long silence followed, in which I imagined all the things that could be happening outside the door. They could have left. They could be staring soppily into each other's eyes. They could even be-
No. Don't even think about that.
Think about what? Jake?
Leave me alone, Embry. I'm happy here.
Jake, we're worried about you. Come home before Sam drags you back.
And leave Chrissy? Like that was going to happen.
Chrissy? A girl? You can't leave the pack for a girl, Jake.
I can and I am! She isn't just a girl. She's-
Don't get me wrong, Embry said quickly. Girls are important. Very important. But Sam WILL drag you back if that's the only way.
I'd like to see him try. I really would. Did he honestly think that it would work? That I wouldn't escape and come straight back?
Sam's a fool, Embry. Tell him to leave me alone.
Obeying me as if I had been an alpha giving an order, Embry's consciousness faded away as he phased back into his human shape.
"I'm going to take a shower. You know the rules."
"When you're in the bathroom, I'm not. I must stay away from all of your belongings."
Then the door opened and closed; I was alone with Chrissy.
She hummed a snatch of a familiar song before tugging her shirt over her head. My eyes could have popped out.
This was like my own personal striptease. I squeezed my eyes shut as she reached for the clasp of her bra. It was too much for me to see that. Not that I didn't want to. I did. Chrissy was beautiful. It was more the dilemma of, would she have minded you seeing? And the truthful answer to that was: yes.
I waited until Chrissy was singing at the top of her lungs before I dared to look again. All I could see was a blurred olive-coloured shape through the foggy glass.
The scent of raspberries exploded in my nose. Mmm... Raspberries were so much nicer than strawberries. I was luxuriating in the aroma when I abruptly noticed the door of the shower swinging open. How had I missed the water turning off?
And then Chrissy was standing there in all of her beautiful wonder. I was frozen, unable to look away from her. She was glorious.
Chrissy sung another snatch of the song before calling out, "Cal!"
I heard him jump away from wherever he had been, before answering, "What?"
She eyed me up. "I can't move with this do-" she paused. 'Um … Freddie. . . in here. He's freaking huge. And besides," Chrissy wound a towel around herself, snapping me out of my sick reverie. "He's looking at me."
"You're shy because a wild animal is checking you out?" Caleb sighed, then spoke again, too low for Chrissy to hear. "Lucky mutt."
I looked Chrissy over again, despite my better judgement. The towel didn't really do much in the way of covering her up. It more . . . accentuated . . . what she was trying to hide.
"Cut it out!" She whispered forcefully, finally giving me the direct request that I needed. Even though it was good that she had told me to look away, I couldn't help but be sad that she was suspicious about me. I would never take advantage of her. Not that she could know that. I whimpered, letting my head fall to the floor, wishing I could explain to her.
My stare could have bored a hole in the blue tiles, avoiding seeing Chrissy in a half-dressed state. By the sounds of the rustling, she was literally throwing her clothes on.
When she wandered past me, towel in hand, I decided to follow - ignoring the fact that she'd tried to lock me in before - because I didn't trust the goddamn boy she had lying across her bed at that very moment.
But despite the fact that I was upset at his familiarity of her bedroom, Chrissy obviously wasn't, considering the fact that she barely even noticed where he was, instead making conversation about me.
"Cal, what exactly is this?" She asked, pointing at me with an unreadable expression.
"I Googled it," the sleaze said proudly, and I wanted to laugh. Google was hardly difficult to use. "Wolf - but this one is harmless, I'm pretty sure. But probably hungry."
Harmless. Yes, I was harmless if I wanted to be - which was generally all the time - but I was suddenly willing to make an exception for this godaweful jerk.
"Oh." Chrissy looked pensive for a fleeting moment, before a decisive set chased it off of her face. "Well, find him something from the fridge downstairs. A steak or something." She said in a commanding tone.
"A steak? You would feed this huge mutt a steak. Chris, your cook buys the best damn steak out there, and you want to waste it-"
Caleb cut off abruptly and was out the door of Chrissy's room in flash after she glared at him viciously, while dabbing delicately at the mass of dark blonde hair thrown over one shoulder.
Eventually it must have reached a satisfactory level of dryness, because she tossed the towel through the open door of her bathroom, where it slapped against the wall, leaving a clear patch in the condensation on the tiles.
Without flicking off the switch next to the power outlet, she plugged the cord of her silver hairdryer in. I winced as a tiny spark leapt between the two electrical components, narrowly missing the duvet edge.
The way Chrissy dried her hair was almost hypnotic. The way the shade of blonde lightened with each slow sweep; the way the locks steamed slightly; the way she was still humming breathily; the sureness of her actions.
When Caleb blocked my view of her, I could have gone for his throat right then and there. Who did he think he was, to hide her from me?
He pinched a thick, red chunk of meat between his fingertips, held distastefully away from his body. He wiggled it at Chrissy a bit, making her flinch away from the almost dripping, bloodied flesh.
Caleb whistled at me again. Goddammit, what kind of stupid animals were dogs to come running to that sound, of all the idiotic noises he could have made?
I did have a role to play though, so I begrudgingly dragged myself towards the glass doors, where the steak had been coated in grit on one side. Stupid jerk.
As I gingerly nipped at the food, I pricked up an ear to monitor the situation indoors. It was weird, this imprinting thing. I didn't want this boy to hurt her, to contaminate her. I didn't want him to even touch her. Was this normal? If you could call turning into a giant wolf and becoming obsessed with some poor girl normal, that is.
I snapped out of my musings the second I heard Caleb's voice. "So, er," he said, trying to think of something to say. "What do you . . . think of the new kid?"
"He's okay, I guess," Chrissy answered softly, then suddenly yelled out loudly. "Yes, okay, I like him! Ow!"
She liked me. She liked me! She liked me!
"Sorry." He said it like a swearword. "Is it because . . . he's good looking? Or is something else?"
"I guess it's 'cos he's attractive." Chrissy answered after a short pause.
"A crush then." He said, sounding hopeful.
"Yeah, a crush." She said over the squeak of bedsprings and the hum of the dryer, which promptly stopped. The bed creaked again.
"Chrissy's got a boyfriend! Chrissy's got a boyfriend!" Caleb said in a sing-song tone. It reminded me of when I was a little kid, playing tag with Quil and Embry. Em-bry's IT! Em-bry's IT!
"Do not!" Chrissy said.
"Do too."
And then she was giggling hysterically. I swallowed my last bite and turned around to see Caleb lying half on top of Chrissy, his hand clasped around her neck, his face inches from hers.
I couldn't think properly, only take note of the proceedings in a way that a golf commentator might, except that my anger and frustration was bubbling viciously just under the surface.
He leaned forward a fraction and his - dirty - mouth brushed against Chrissy's for a few seconds. When she didn't respond - yes! - he retreated slightly.
She whispered, only just loud enough for his - deaf - ears to hear, "Georgina."
Georgina, I remembered, was Caleb's librarian. And only an hour or two ago, this - sleazebag - boy had been confessing how much he actually liked the girl. How would he try and laugh that one off?
"She doesn't matter," he said, using what sounded to be a rehearsed line. "I love you." He kissed her again, quickly. It reminded me of the way people pressed a stamp onto the letter they were about to chuck in the post, to make sure that it would get to its destination.
"Chris, I'm sorry. I . . ." Caleb sealed the deal, making a great show of feeling bad about taking advantage. "I shouldn't have."
He turned his back on her, managing to spark sympathy from Chrissy.
"Cal," she said gently, tangling her nimble fingers through his - greasy - hair.
This time around, she was the one to initiate the kiss.
Crap.