Author's Note: Welcome back, dear friends! I am happy to give you the first chapter of Moondust!
A few months have passed since the tragedy on Shore Day, and in this chapter, we get a glimpse of what the new normal is looking like in Seabrook. Fear not, next chapter we will be hearing from our friends in the deep blue sea, who have their own new normal to contend with.
I love you all, and your reviews give me more joy and encouragement than you can imagine. Thank you for reading, and enjoy!
ZzZzZzZ
"Can I get anything else for you?"
Zed looked up into faces of the two young werewolf customers, offering them a friendly smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"No, thank you." said the shorter wolf, a female sporting wavy blonde hair with the wolves' trademark white stripe down the center. The other werewolf, a taller male with thick braids of black and white hair, offered Zed a polite shake of his head. They were both bundled in leather coats and thick, furry scarves.
The winter season had settled upon Seabrook like a dusty white blanket. Everywhere you looked, people were wrapped up in their cold-weather gear. Even the zombies, who were largely impervious to cooler temperatures, could be seen walking about town wearing warm sweaters and woolen hats.
"Alright then," Zed said, glancing down to the tiny cash register to punch in the orders. "That's two medium peanut butter and bones fro-yos, and two bottles of water. That'll be twelve dollars even."
The two wolves happily paid, and went to sit down at one of the little tables near the window. A dusting of snow rested along the windowsill next to the strings of twinkling white lights, and tiny swirls of white powder danced along the streets of Zombietown outside the little shop.
Zed had been thrilled when coach had agreed to hire him on as a part time employee at his fro-yo cart. However, as the weeks passed, and the population of Seabrook grew with the inclusion of the Lunites, it became clear that there was just too much business for them to accommodate customers efficiently with just two little carts. Finally, coach finally made the decision to rent out a little shop in the Zombietown square, right across the street from Flight of the Living Dead.
And the shop had opened just in time, too, because winter had definitely arrived. Zed doubted that people would still be lining up to get frozen desserts, if they'd had to stand out in the cold to get it. But the shop stayed surprisingly busy, especially considering it was a business that one would generally associate with warmer weather.
In fact, Coach had added some holiday flavors into the menu, to help draw in customers.
There was something for everyone. The humans loved the Egg Nog flavor, and zombies went crazy for the Peppermint Mocha Cerebellum. The Holiday Maple Bacon flavor had gone over great with the wolves, and Christmas Cave Moss was a hit with the Lunites.
Coach definitely had a gift for coming up with and creating unique flavors for a unique population of beings.
As Zed watched the two wolves sit at the little table, he went about scooping out their desired frozen yogurt into two medium recyclable paper bowls. He added a biodegradable spoon atop each one, and quickly placed them both on a tray. Reaching to his left, Zed grabbed up two water bottles, and sat them next to the bowls on the little tray.
He then methodically placed the tray on top of the counter, and called out the corresponding number. The male wolf quickly jumped up, and strode over on long legs to snatch up the tray.
"Thanks, Zed." the male wolf with the braids said.
Zed offered a polite 'no problem,' before turning to resume organizing the paper cups and bowls along the back counter. It was a tight little space, so good organizational skills were a must here. Not that Zed was particularly good at organizing anything. His room at home was proof of that. But this job was definitely helping him cultivate the habit.
As he stacked the final set of small cups in the appropriate place, the little bell above the door chimed.
Zed looked up, a small but genuine grin crossing his face as he watched Willa and Wynter walk into the shop.
"Hey, guys." He said, his voice subdued but pleasant. "How's it going?"
"Not bad," Wynter said, and for a brief moment, they were all shrouded in a heavy silence.
Zed loved his friends, and would never stop wanting to spend time with them. But at the same time, seeing them always hurt like rubbing salt in a wound, because he couldn't look at any of them without thinking about the others. The ones who weren't there anymore.
The quiet moment stretched on for several seconds, but none of them seemed to feel awkward or embarrassed by it. This pain was familiar to them now; it had become a new normal in their everyday existence.
"Did you guys want anything?" Zed finally asked, breaking the silence.
"Yeah," said Wynter. "I'll have a scoop of Maple Bacon, and a scoop of Strawberry. Willa, what do you want?"
"I'm not really that hungry." Willa replied, and Zed could see the circles under her eyes.
They had all been devastated when the moonstone was destroyed three months ago, taking with it so much that they had loved. But Zed thought that Willa was probably the one who showed her grief the most outwardly.
Ever since that day, Willa had taken to wearing only black furs and boots. Today's ensemble was a black pair of leather leggings, a black shirt, and a caplet of black and grey furs. On her left ring finger, as always, was a shining, black stone ring, with a diamond carved gracefully out of the top.
She never took it off.
As Zed looked at the ring, it was all he could do not to think of Eliza. His brave, strong and intelligent friend, who would have made a beautiful bride one day. His chest ached.
The word "bride" called forth other painful memories, ones that he couldn't think about at work for risk of breaking down. Then, Wynter spoke again, blessedly interrupting his train of thought.
"Willa," she said sternly. You need to eat something, today, even if it is just frozen yogurt. A pack leader needs to keep up her strength."
After Wyatt's death, Wynter had reluctantly taken his place as second in command of the pack. Though honestly, it seemed as though most of her new duties as second involved keeping the pack leader fed and functional. The first few weeks, Zed knew, had been particularly hard. He had lost some weight himself, due to a complete loss of appetite in the wake of Addison's and the others' absence.
But while his desire to eat had eventually returned, somewhat, Willa's still had not. She struggled to maintain any kind of appetite, and Wynter was constantly trying to talk her into eating. From what Zed had understood, Willa had not hunted in months, and was surviving on what little she ate during school in the cafeteria, and whatever food the pack was able to coax into her in the evenings.
"Come on, Willa," Zed said, offering her his best grin and chuckling lightheartedly. "This one's on the house. Family discount." He shot them both a friendly, conspiratorial wink. Wynter smiled back at him, looking silently grateful for his attempt at cheering them up.
Willa sighed, looking at the menu with a complete lack of enthusiasm.
"Fine," she said. "One small scoop of Cauli-Brains Mocha Crunch, please." Zed knew instantly that that was Eliza's favorite. He winced lightly at the memory, but managed a wane grin as he punched in the order.
"Alright then. No charge today, ladies." Zed said, nodding firmly.
"Oh, hush, zombie." Willa said, and slid a few crumpled bills across the counter. "We can pay."
Their eyes met, and Zed arched an eyebrow. After a moment, he decided that it wasn't worth the argument, so long as his friend got some food in her stomach.
"Thanks." he said, gingerly picking up the wad of money and counting it out. "I'll call you guys up when it is ready."
"Wanna sit with us?" Willa asked. "Aren't you supposed to get breaks?"
"Nah," Zed replied, maybe a bit too quickly.
He wanted to sit with them and talk, he really did. Except that sitting and talking to anyone these days was pure torture, even if it was with his family or his remaining best friends.
"I'd better stay at the counter." He concluded with an apologetic look. "We've been weirdly busy tonight, considering it is snowing and we sell frozen food here."
They all three looked out the window, which was partially obscured with ice and powdery snow. Across the street, the shops next door had already shut down for the evening, and their windows were dark, save for the twinkle of multicolored Christmas lights that decorated each storefront. Snow fell lightly, swirling and winding between the buildings with an icy gracefulness.
The little bell above the doorway of Coach's chimed again, and group of two humans, a Lunite, and a zombie walked in, all giggling and shaking flakes of snow from their hair. The Lunite, a tall girl that Zed didn't recognize, accidentally swatted one of the humans in the face with her long mane of hair, causing their giggling to double in intensity.
"Thanks, Zed." Wynter said, reaching out to squeeze his hand briefly. "You and Bonzo should come by the den, sometime soon. We miss you guys."
Zed smiled at that. He missed them, too. He missed a lot of things.
"I'll tell him," Zed replied. "That would be awesome; it really has been too long. Maybe we should start up the bonfire meetings again."
Wynter and Willa offered him brief smiles and nods, and walked over to the far side of the room, where two pink chairs rested next to the exposed brick wall.
As Zed waited on the new group, who were a few years younger than him, he looked out the window and watched the dusty snow as it continued to fall.
The snow glowed white-blue in the dimming evening light.
It reminded him of Addison's hair.
ZzZzZzZ
Bucky walked down the sidewalk with his head bowed down to block the icy wind, his face partially tucked into the scarf wrapped around his head. His gloved hands were stuffed in his pockets, and he was shivering slightly. He should have worn a heavier coat. But he certainly wasn't going back to the house to change, now.
Besides, his heavier winter coat didn't even have a mighty shrimps logo on it. He tried to make a point of never being seen in public without wearing something that promoted his school or the cheer squad. He was the face of Seabrook High, after all.
Then again, he reminded himself, he was going to have to start wearing clothes without his high school logo on them eventually. He had spoken with the school counselor this afternoon, and had been delighted to learn that he would finally be graduating this coming spring.
Technically, he should have graduated last year, a year ahead of Addy. But as cheer captain and school president, it was possible that he had let his academics slip slightly. Namely, he hadn't taken enough classes to have the necessary credits to graduate the previous school year. As it turned out, going to class was actually kind of important. Who knew?
But in any case, he would be leaving Seabrook High School in just a few short months. He had resumed his old duties as Cheer captain after Addison... left. But soon, he was going to have to pick someone to replace them both. After this coming May, he would be gone from there, too.
But it was only December, now, and so he could continue to put it off for a little while longer.
He shivered as he turned the sharp corner, striding quickly under the sign that read "Coach's." The little sign creaked quietly as it shifted back and forth in the cool breeze. Bucky couldn't help but glance in, and spotted the back of Zed's head as the zombie worked on completing someone's order.
Bucky quickly turned his head away and walked onward. He liked Zed; but he just wasn't feeling up to conversing with the guy at the moment. It had been a long school day.
And besides; Bucky had a date to get to.
Well, not an actual date. Though, admittedly, he would love it if it were. His face, though chilled by the snow and wind, still warmed briefly at the thought.
He and Qamar had been meeting for coffee at ZomBrewz every Thursday night for the past month or so. And truthfully, this recently cultivated tradition was quickly becoming the highlight of Bucky's week. They would sit in one of the couches next to the large electric fireplace, and talk for hours at a time. Bucky would sip at his cappuccino or hot chocolate, while Qamar drank a dark, earthy-scented tea that had become a recent addition to the ZomBrewz menu.
They would discuss a variety of topics, from lighthearted subjects like school and their friends; to deeper ones, like Bucky's grief at losing his cousin, and the recent loss of Qamar's mother. Bucky had never had a friendship like this one before. He had been closer to Addison than he had to any other member of his family, let alone the Acey's or any of his friends at school.
But this, somehow, felt completely different. Whenever he was with Qamar, he couldn't help but feel like he was whole, for the first time ever. It was like Bucky had spent his entire existence walking around with half of himself missing, and had never even noticed it until they'd become friends.
It made zero sense. Qamar was the opposite of Bucky in nearly every way possible. Where Bucky was peppy and intense, Qamar was subdued and stoic. Bucky was obsessed with appearances and being the best, and Qamar couldn't have cared less what others thought of him.
And lately, there had been a lot of people thinking about him. Qamar had, at Bucky and their friends' urging, joined the Seabrook High Basketball team. This seemingly small decision had almost instantly catapulted him from a new, unknown student to a Seabrook sports superstar overnight.
With his speed and ability to anticipate his opponents' moves, the young Lunite had become to basketball what Zed had been for football. A shining example of how much better Seabrook could be, when they all worked and lived together. Even the change-disliking Bucky couldn't help but admire him.
Well, it was possible that he more than just admired him. But there was no way he'd ever admit to it, and risk ruining such a great friendship.
Turning another corner, Bucky finally reached his destination. He looked up at the once-creepy old funeral parlor, which had been recently refurbished into an ambient all-night coffee shop. Rather than the gloomy, bone-chilling appearance one might expect from an old mortuary, ZomBrewz looked cozy and inviting.
With his teeth clattering together slightly, Bucky rushed to the door, opening it and quickly shoving it closed against the bitter cold wind outside. A few little flurries of snow accompanied him inside as the door shut. Compared to the chilly sidewalks of Zombietown, the interior of the coffee shop seemed like a sauna.
A female zombie sat in the corner, wearing a lumpy grey sweater and playing a low, easy-going tune on a weathered guitar. It wasn't really Bucky's type of music, but he supposed that it matched the generally mellow atmosphere that ZomBrewz always seemed to be trying to cultivate. He looked around, searching for a familiar white head of short, curly white hair.
"Hey, Prez." Said Marz, the barista who frequently managed the coffee shop on school nights. They smiled at him, nose ring glinting in the dim light. "What can I get you?"
Bucky offered them his best presidential smile. "I'll take a cappuccino, please, with whipped cream and a caramel drizzle."
Marz wrinkled their nose delicately, but punched in the order with a shake of their head.
People always seemed to balk at his drink preferences, but as president, he didn't mind.
Lots of historical figures were balked at in their time, like Abraham Lincoln. Yet Bucky and Linncoln were both influential and famous, and both great men and leaders.
They were basically the same person, if you really thought about it.
A familiar laugh behind him made his heart flutter, and he suddenly lost track of his inner monologue.
"Hello, Bucky." Said Qamar, and Bucky turned to look up into the pale, smiling face of the man he secretly loved. Qamar reached out, grasping Bucky's still-gloved hand in his own. Bucky would have blushed at the hand holding, but he was familiar by now with the Lunite customs of casual physical contact. He squeezed Qamar's hand happily in greeting, and watched as bits of ice and snow dripped from Qamars recently-cropped curls.
The Lunite's hair, normally past his shoulders, was currently only a few inches longer than Bucky's. It hung down in dripping spirals, partially obscuring his face as he met Bucky's eyes.
Lunites, Bucky had learned, generally always kept their hair long, as it was also their source of light in the darkened tunnels they called home. In fact, the only time Lunites wore their hair short was when they were mourning. The shortened mane was, according to his friend, meant to symbolize the darkness one experiences after a loss.
Mayar had been the first to cut her hair, a week after Shore day, into a chin-length bob that left her unruly hair a wild, white halo around her pale face. Aruna and Qamar, being her best friends, had cut their own locks in solidarity. Then, last month, Qamar's mother had died. This had led the Lunite to cut his hair even shorter. It now hung in messy, uneven locs around his head and face, somehow making him look even more like a male model than before.
"Don't worry," Qamar sighed, offering Bucky a grin as he finished placing his order with Marz. "It will grow back in a few months."
"Eh," Bucky waved his free hand dismissively, as he reached out to grab his whipped cream-covered cappuccino. "You make it work. Besides, it's probably easier running around the basketball court with the short hair, huh?" He winked, knowing that Qamar was more than a little insecure about his sudden celebrity status as a basketball star.
Bucky watched with some satisfaction as Qamar's face took on a light periwinkle hue. He wasn't certain, but he was pretty sure that this was how Lunites blushed; and the thought of him making Qamar blush made Bucky smile.
Continuing their chat, each male took their drink from the counter and walked across the room and towards the fire. They each sat in their own oversized and overstuffed recliner next to the artificial flames, facing each other from across a battered wood coffee table. The guitar music continued uninterrupted in the background as Bucky and Qamar talked about school and sipped at their drinks. Bucky even found himself genuinely laughing at a joke of Qamar's, once or twice.
As they spoke, Bucky couldn't help but realize that these Thursday evenings, sitting next to an alien in an old mortuary, were the only times he'd really felt much happiness since Shore Day.
The school counselor, a decrepit old lady named Mrs. Hansford, had told him that this was normal; that over time, he would start to find joy in everyday things again, and the ache of grief wouldn't be so overwhelming anymore.
Bucky looked at Qamar's bright blue eyes, and felt a tiny spark of hope for a better future. Maybe the old bat was right. Maybe he could be happy again. Someday.