Wonderful Tonight
Author's Note: Yet another story that people seemed to like and I'm hoping that people here will enjoy it as well. Like the last two stories, this one is also quite old and doesn't show my current abilities to write, but, I don't think people would take to reading too long of a story, which is what I usually write. I always love comments and suggestions. But, anyways, here you go, I hope you enjoy and peace out.
Synopsis: When popular girl Sarah is brought to a party, she begins to see her 'popular' friends in a different light and decides not to actually go into the party. Going off after a figure she sees going into a barn, she finds out what this party is all about and finds a new friend and a new life with somebody she never thought she'd even associate herself with.
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There were so many letters being sent out at the end of the year. Letters were going off to colleges both near and far, trying to show us off as if we were painted poodles strutting along a line to be judged for a blue ribbon. Names, ink, pens, signatures and names all confused into one in each of our minds. After three weeks of searching and searching, we were all ready to break out.
Then a very special e-mail was sent out. I know that everybody got it because immediately afterwards, I received texts from my friends demanding to know if I was going. When I saw the e-mail, I said that I didn't know. But immediately afterwards, the guest list, which was basically a very limited amount of people, began to spike.
A huge list consisting of the most popular kids in school were going. Athletes, rebels, criminals, musicians, any and all of the coolest kids in the entire building were going. And of course I was invited, I mean, I am the most beautiful girl in school. But, I didn't quickly respond with a yes until I saw my boyfriend was going. Then, I figured I would have to. If I didn't show up with him who knows what could have happened. I wanted to make sure that my last two months in high school were the best ever.
Brad picked me up around seven o'clock and I told my parents that I was going to some sleepover and that he would take me because he had to work third shift that night. They naturally bought it, or just accepted it, and I was whisked off to the back seat of his brand new Camaro that his dad bought him back in September. Apparently Brad was also taking along his buddy Cameron and his girlfriend Katie.
I didn't mind because I was friends with Katie and Brad hung out with Cameron all the time, so, I just accepted that they were best buds. They were happy to see us, smiling and screaming at us out of the windows. I waved to them, climbed in behind the driver's seat and we were off.
The drive there was absolutely killer; it must have been nearly twenty miles. After about ten minutes my bottom began to hurt really badly, but, Katie, Cameron and Brad acted as if there was nothing wrong. In fact, I think they enjoyed all being shoved into this cramped space.
Katie seemed to love it because she could lean across the divider between the rear seats and run her mouth like an engine. For the entire ride, she kept going on and on about her dress and her makeup and her hair and a long list of other things that pissed her off or bothered her. The thing I hated most about it was her accent which she had picked up off of watching too much reality TV. It was 'whatever' this and 'batch' that and it was painful to the ears.
Speaking of painful to the ears, Cameron and Brad, halfway there, suddenly decided that they were going to blare death metal. The music had come into huge popularity in school as of lately and they wanted to make sure the entire population thought that they made it popular. They turned it up as loud as they could and started banging their head.
Brad brushed it off with 'Is the music okay, babe' and, despite nodding my head, I hated it. Cameron was flailing around as if he was dying and my boyfriend was doing relatively the same. But the most frightening thing of this was that Brad was doing this and driving the goat path narrow roads around here at sixty miles an hour. We almost hit a Red Ball truck because he let the car drift into the oncoming lane. Cameron and Katie failed to even notice getting that close to dying, or, maybe they were just saving it for the gossip session at this party later.
But, finally, Brad and Cameron turned down the music and Katie found something else to do. We had just turned off of the road and were going up a rocky road that led towards a secluded house back in the country. Katie starts leaning up against the window and smiles as wide as she can as she gawks at the house. Brad and Cameron turn off the music entirely and look at the house with the same impressed looks on their faces.
"Is this the place?" Cameron asks as he looked at the house.
"I sure hope so because this place is off the hook!" Brad emphatically replies.
He is definitely right to say that because at first view the house looks like it is on fire. Lights are on in almost every window, save for many of those on the second floor. People are milling around everywhere, almost blocking the light flowing out of the windows. They pour out happily onto the lawn, the deck and the porch dancing, eating and generally socializing.
"Look at that house, look at all those people; this party is going to the best one of the entire year!" Katie squeals.
Brad guides his car up the driveway as far as he can and then pulls off into the yard where a mass of cars have been parked. He chooses a spot closest to the house and then parks it. Before the engine can even die off, Brad and Cameron have opened the doors and are already climbing out.
Cameron and Brad stand up and look around, over the door and at the house. For awhile they stand in awe at the lights and the noise coming from inside. Their minds are lost in the party that they've forgotten that Katie and I are still in Brad's car. Finally, Katie makes an annoyed grunt with her high pitched voice and the two of them turn around. The both of them quickly go and pull the seats front.
"Sorry, Katie, I must have forgotten." Cameron says to Katie.
"Just let me out of the car, you boob." Katie angrily bites back.
Cameron pulls the seat forward and quickly helps Katie out of the car. Brad ducks into the car and begins to pull the driver's seat forward as well. Unlike Cameron, he doesn't even offer an apology for his absence of a mind. But, I don't say anything to him about it. I figure I can keep it for later or simply just because he probably doesn't care anyways.
When the seat is forward, Brad offers a hand and I take it. He pulls me forward until I can grab both the roof of the car and the seat and suddenly he lets go. I almost fall back into the seat, but, manage to keep upright. I'm angry and quickly purse my lips, furrow my brow. But when I squeeze between the seat and place one foot on the grass outside, I see why he suddenly let go.
Half of the football team is standing on the porch with plastic Dixie cups in their hands. Brad is waving at them as they wave back, hoot and holler because their quarterback has finally showed up to the party. Brad makes an ass of himself while doing the guns thing and then gives the same ape-like hooting and hollering back to the team.
I squeeze out of the car and stand up on the grass. Then I kneel down and brush off my new blouse and jeans, but, don't bother with my new sneakers. They don't need to be brushed off because I walk on them, they'll just get dirty anyways. I stand up and stand akimbo and angrily look to Brad, but, he mustn't know.
"Sorry, babe, I hope you don't mind, but, I'm gonna go hang with the guys for awhile." He says and looks back at me.
When he looks to me and I see that he hasn't even noticed the stupid things he's just done, I just sigh and shake my head. Then I nod my head and he smiles. Turning around, he puts a finger beneath my chin and pecks me on the lips. I don't even react when he does this and turns around again.
"See you later, Sarah!" He yells to me.
I shake my head and sigh, letting my arms fall down at my side as he rushes off through the lines of cars, SUVs and trucks to get to the porch where his friends are. Looking over the roof of the car, I see Cameron doing the same thing, but, Katie doesn't seem to mind. She's looking off towards the house where she can see some people in a huge bay window.
"Oh, gosh, look, it's Carlie and Julie!" Katie cries out in her shrill, squeaky voice.
"Come on, Sarah, let's go hang with them! I just know they know more about what's going on between Zach and Caitlin!"
She starts wobbling forward and around the car at me in her strange shoes that she claims is the height of fashion in Paris right now. While she rounds the car, I look up and see the two girls she's talking about. They're leaning in the window with cups in their hands and their mouths going at a hundred and twenty miles per hour.
Katie squeals again in pure bliss, holds her hands up and comes towards me. I look back at her as she approaches me. Before I can react, she grabs my hands and starts dragging me towards the house. At first I just go with it, but after a while, I begin to fight back. Before she can get me away from the car, I pull my hand from hers and she turns around.
"What, what's wrong, Sarah?" She asks me.
"No, Katie, I don't want to talk to them right now." I told her.
"Why, don't you want to know what's going on?" She quickly responds.
"Katie, I don't need to know right now." I tell her, plain and simple.
When she gives me a look of confusion, I sigh and roll my eyes. Katie isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer and I know that I'll need to come up with some excuse as to why I don't need to gossip right now. I figure out a really simple one without too much thought and look to her with a little smirk on my face.
"But, how about this, I'll meet up with you later in the night and we can talk then." I suggest.
Katie squeals again happily and then smiles.
"Alright, Sarah, just don't take too long." She says.
She turns and begins to waddle towards the house, trying not to fall, yet at the same time hold her arms in against her body like they were wings and her pocketbook was an important letter for a king. I shake my head as I watch her go, knowing that I might have just dodged a very big bullet right about now.
There is no way in hell that I want to go in there. I didn't think about it at first, but, I think this might not be the kind of party that I want to attend. The music is too obnoxious, too loud and so are the people attending it. Usually I would be up to such a thing because of how cool it would make me look, but, something's different tonight.
I just want to get away from the people I usually associate with. I just can't take their antics tonight. In honesties, I sort of expected it to be some crazy house party like this. Despite thinking that it might not be a serious party with adults, good, calm music and good food, I went. Now I'm beginning to regret even deciding to come.
My eyes begin to wander around the area, looking for a place where I could go to hide out without having to be seen at this party. The house looks like an old farmstead, with three floors, a huge, square layout and a porch and deck that wraps around the entire thing. Looking to the left of the building, I look out towards the forest that seems to surround the entire property, marking where the yard ends, and see a large barn.
The thing looks like it must be fifty years old and doesn't seem to be in the best of condition. But, despite this, I see a figure running across the yard. The person doesn't seem to be very big or wide; no way could he be a football player or one of the jocks and rebels that have been invited here. Suddenly, I'm very interested, and I've found a place to go for awhile, too.
Beginning forward, I tromp over the newly manicured lawn and begin to walk through the aisle made by the bumpers of vehicles parked there. As I pass them by, I begin to get truly an idea of who exactly is here. There's Billy's chopped Kia Rio, Chase's Dodge Dakota Sport, Zach's Cavalier Z24, Corey's 1987 Chevy Camaro Z28, and an assortment of other either rare, expensive or tricked out vehicles. It's sort of pathetic, actually, if you think about it. They're people's egos wrapped up all on one rolling package.
Soon I am out of the maze that is made up entirely of vehicles and I begin to cross the void made between the house and the barn. The grass gets a bit higher as I walk, but, I hardly notice. Although I dressed for a party, I suspected otherwise and wore functional clothes that still looked nice. I suppose now it's paying off.
The noise from the house begins to go down with each step farther away from it. After a good distance, I stop hearing the obnoxious voices announcing stupid accomplishments inside. A little while later the music is basically just a pounding beat at this point. Later, the light barely illuminates what is in front of me and I can hear the chirp of cicadas and grasshoppers over the music.
The door of the barn is old and rotting away in some places, just like the barn as a whole. But, despite this, I go forward and towards the door that is just ajar, letting in a strip of light into the pitch black interior. I look inside without approaching the door entirely and stare inside. It's almost impossible to see through the blackness, but, this only piques my interest and drives me to go inside.
With my newly cleaned hands, I push the door open. It swings open without any problems and then reveals to me more of what is hidden inside. Dirt and hay cover the ground while on the left side of the barn I can see stalls for horses stand up against the wall. Ropes, pails, tools and other things populate the walls and floor.
A big truck sits in the very center of the old building, painted a light blue and white. It appears as if it's over forty years old, with spots of rust on the body and a flat tire in the back. 'FORD' is written across the back, with F-110 in little letters written in the corner of the drop back. I wrap my arms around my body as a gust of cold air comes out and begin inside.
My shoes rub against the straw and dirt on the ground, but, my eyes never look down the noise I'm creating. Once I'm inside, I begin to look around. I don't see the man that I saw come in here anywhere. He may be purposefully hiding from me, or may not even know I'm here. Going off to the left, I follow the length of the old Ford to its nose, my eyes looking at hay-filled stalls and at blue lanterns hanging from the ends of the stall walls.
Suddenly I begin to hear sounds coming from above. I swing my head around and immediately look upwards. As soon as my eyes are up in the air, a bit of straw flutters down from above and makes me close my eyes and blow it away. When I open my eyes again, I look to see that the hay had fallen from a loft above.
Footsteps frantically push and thrust hay around and every so often one or more ancient floorboard creak and moan under the weight it is no longer used to. A voice emerges from the silence, low and slow, but it sounds like a voice I am familiar with. It seems as if the person was in pain or was sad and frantic.
"No, no, why is this happening, why now, why here?" The voice says, barely loudly enough to be audible.
"Hello?" I ask the person.
Suddenly the footsteps stop and then restart, this time coming towards the end of the loft. Stepping back a few times, I stare upwards and suddenly a person appears. He looks down at me and I get just a glimpse of his face. He's my age, about six feet tall, with scraggy black hair, a little goatee. He's thin and wears a psychedelic Pink Floyd shirt, cheap jeans and old sneakers. But before I can get a good view of him, he leans back so he can't be seen.
"What are you doing here? You should be in the house!" The man angrily tells me.
I wait a few seconds, waiting for him to reappear again. But when he doesn't, I just cross my arms gently and cock my head to the side.
"I don't want to be at that party." I tell him, honestly. "There are too many condescending pricks and stuck up bitches in there."
"Huh, that's cute, especially when it's coming from you." The man says in reply, his voice resounding off of the high ceiling. "You're Sarah Parker, the most popular girl in school. You were voted home coming queen and prom queen both years. You're dating the strongest man in school, Brad Poole. You don't fraternize with anybody poorer, uglier or dressed lesser than you. You treat yourself like a queen and everybody else like peasants, like disposable servants for you and your kind."
The words are sharp and painful and at first make me cringe, even angrily scowl up at the ceiling. But then they begin to settle and I accept them as truth. As I sigh, I look around, across the hood of the truck, to a wooden ladder that leads up to the hay loft. Slowly I begin towards it, but, not fast enough that it makes a lot of noise.
"Yeah, so, what about you?" I ask him. "Why aren't you at that party?"
"Because I don't like any of the people at it, that's why." He replies back calmly. "Those people are despicable, self-absorbed assholes."
"I can understand that." I say to him. "I'm only here because my boyfriend brought me here."
"Bullshit." He suddenly responds.
I quickly snap my head up towards the rafters and narrow my eyes. Although I keep walking, I look up, expecting him to look down at me.
"You accepted the invitation." The man says. "You only got a ride."
"How do you know that?" I ask him.
There is silence for the longest time and then I hear a couple of slow footsteps going towards the end of the barn, away from me. I quickly rush to the wooden ladder and begin to climb it. After five steps, halfway up, I hear him sigh and then clear his throat.
"Because I made this party," He tells me. "I wouldn't come up here if you know what's good for you."
"You made this party?" I ask him, thoroughly surprised. "You made this party and it's all the people that you hate?"
I keep climbing and soon, I am just a step before I can see above the floor and into the hayloft. But, for whatever reason, I stop. Like I said before, things were different tonight and I sort of feel strange, like, in a way that I haven't felt in a long time. I stop and stare into a knot in the wood before me.
"I thought I could set some things straight, you know, before school ended." He said, quietly. "I thought I could make some new friends before they were truly my enemies, but, I suppose that didn't work too well."
"What do you mean?" I ask him.
He is silent and I begin to worry after awhile that he somehow left, like there was another way out. Then I hear him sigh and shift his weight around on the loose boards. After a few seconds, I hear a guitar being strummed gently, the strings being pulled as if by a lot of picks all at once.
I take in a deep breath and begin to climb again. As I step up onto the loft, I rise up to a full standing position and look across the short distance to where the person I've been talking to sits. He sits at the edge of the barn, his legs hanging out of the drop door, the moonlight shining in on him. The silhouette of an ancient acoustic guitar is sitting in his lap.
"I'm different," He begins, "I've always been different from the other people at school. They hated me, ridiculed me, and called me every name in the book. And the hundred people in my house are the ones that led the charge."
From here I can't tell who it is, as most people look alike from behind. But the voice is definitely familiar, so, I begin forward. Letting my arms at my side, I begin forward and look around at the rafters. Names are carved into them, none of them familiar, some are hard to read. On the inside of the roof, I see words, carved strange lyrical words. Some of them are familiar, some of them aren't.
Looking back to the kid in the doorway, I continue to walk forward. As I near him, I see that something is different about him. His head doesn't seem straight, like, something about him has changed. There is a white and blue tinge to his skin and his hair seems white.
I walk up beside him and then stop. Looking gently down, I see his hands moving up and down the fret board of that old guitar and strumming away at the strings are covered in a white fur. Lifting my eyes up to his head, I quickly see him look away, hiding his own face gently. But, I can still see the same white fur covering his face. Something brushes against my feet and I look down to see a tail whisking around the floor behind him.
"But, they were right to treat me like that. I'm a freak anyways, different, therefore a perfect target for being ridiculed. I mean, you ridiculed me all the time." He continues and stops playing the guitar. "I mean, look at me."
I jump back almost in fear, but, more in shock. A few steps back and with my jaw ajar, I knock my head against one of the rafters and stop. Lifting a hand up, I rub my head and then look back to him. The kid looks to me with baby blue eyes that stand juxtaposed against a white dog-like muzzle and black nose that seems to make up his face.
"What are you?" I quickly demand.
His face winces and then he quickly looks away and goes back to playing that old guitar. Suddenly I see him differently, like I never would have before. His eyes stare at the guitar as if it were the only thing that cared about him. His lips fall down and his ears fold back like a real animal. Then I see tears begin to mat his fur beneath the eyes.
"I . . . I'm sorry." I say without thinking.
I stop rubbing my head and then cross my arms over my stomach and step forward. After a few steps, he stops playing that guitar and then just leans across it. Outside I see his legs swing back and forth, showing to me just instantaneously the paws that he walks on, unlike any human foot I've ever seen before.
"You're not a freak." I say to him. "You're just different."
He doesn't even look to me because he knows that I don't believe that. He knows that I'm lying and the worst part is that I know that I'm lying. I always was a pretty bad liar, usually. I sigh and smile a bit.
"Yeah, even I don't believe that one." I say to him with a chuckle.
Going to him slowly, I let my arms uncross and then sit down gently beside him. Then I go forward and drop my feet out of the loft as well. Leaning against the side of the large doorway, I look to him out of the corner of my eyes and see him lift his head up again.
"Why haven't you run away?" He asks me. "Why haven't you hit me, called me a freak and then ran?"
"I don't know." I say to him, honestly. "I feel strange tonight, like I'm not the same person. When I got here, I didn't even want to go into that party. I didn't want to be with the people that brought me here. I felt like--"
"Like you didn't belong," he finishes for me. "Then you know what it's like . . . to feel like the people around you aren't real and you're the only one that's real, or, at least trying to be real."
"Yeah," I say to him.
I begin to swing my legs to and fro as my eyes look out of the barn. The woods in the distance are in full bloom and the leaves rustle in a way that make the entire forest seem beautiful. Little flowers wave in the wind and even the tall grass where what used to be a grazing pasture once stood waves to and fro, making an ocean of grass with a tide. I smile at seeing a little bit of beauty that I might have let pass by yesterday.
"So, what exactly are you?" I ask the man without looking at him. "Are you an alien or a robot or a science experiment?"
"No," he says gently in return, "I was born a human. But, apparently I come from a very strange background. My grandparents and my father were and are sorcerers. I got into some of my grandparent's things when I was eight and . . . this is what happened to me. I'm an arctic fox, but, I don't lose my winter coat."
I look to him and see him look down at his hands. Holding them up to the moonlight, I can see the detail of his fur and the black pads and black claws sticking through. His fur is arctic white, but, I can see a tinge of blue here and there. He sighs and then begins to lower his hands. When he hits the guitar again, I look up to his face. I can see where the tears streaked down through his fur.
"I'm sorry." I told him again. "I didn't mean to say that you were a freak."
"But I am a freak." He retorted. "I'm a half-human monster."
"No, in fact, I think you're probably more human than the rest of us." I say without thinking first. "You're name is James, isn't it? James Haldeman?"
His face cringes up and he quickly looks away. I smile, knowing that I've struck the truth, but, then I stop smiling. Apparently he doesn't like being who he is. Or, more honestly, the person he pretends to be to try to be normal.
"You never told me why you're out here." I ask him.
"Like I said, I come from a magical background." He begins without waiting for even a pause. "I hide from you all; I've always been hiding, in the human world. I'd use spells that my father taught me, use energy stored in my body, to keep looking like a normal human. I tried to have this party to make everyone think I was cool for a little while. But, I had to abuse my magic to do it. I cast a spell to make everybody a little tipsy, even act like somebody they aren't for a little while. Well, I ran out of energy, the spell stopped working and I began to turn into who I really am right in the middle of the kitchen."
He stops speaking and then sighs and closes his eyes. He puts his hands down onto the floor beside him, allowing his guitar to hang forward on the leather strap that goes behind his head. His hands rest beside him, between me and him. I look to him and then cock my head to the side.
"You bolted, didn't you?" I ask him.
He nods his head and then looks out to the woods once more.
"I couldn't let them see me. That would seal my fate here in high school. I didn't want that, I couldn't have that." He said. "But, I think a few people saw me, people that have big mouths. Two girls saw me from the living room and yelled. That's when I ran. They didn't follow me and I thought you were one of them."
"And you yelled at me to try to scare me away." I say to him.
James nods once more.
"So, now that everybody knows, what are you gonna do?" I continue. "Do you think you're going to try to use your . . . magic to fix it?"
I fumble before I say that word. It's so strange saying the word magic because in all honesties I don't believe in it. Or, I suppose I wouldn't believe in it if a six foot tall arctic fox-human hybrid wasn't sitting next to me, talking to me about his social problems. James just shakes his head and his lips purse up.
"I don't think so." He says. "I'm not that powerful. I wanted to live a normal life so I didn't take a master. My father would teach me a thing here and there when he felt like it, but, never indulged me into too much of that world. I don't know."
"Maybe you can just go to school like this for awhile?" I ask him. "I mean, they all know anyways and you didn't think this would work forever, did you?"
James looks to me and one of his eyebrows goes up. I smile a little and look away, almost feeling myself blush in his presence. For whatever reason, James seems like a totally different person, just like I feel. Everything here is so different, it's amazing.
"Maybe I walk in with you? Maybe even . . . like you are?" I suggest without looking at him.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" James requests to know. "In school you would call me a fucking social reject just because I looked in your direction. Now you're suggesting helping me?"
"I don't know. I felt different tonight and I still do. All the people that I thought were my friends were terrible to me, always have been." I confide with him. "They were worse tonight than ever. If I could push myself away from them as much as I can and find people that are truly friends with me, I would go for it."
We are silent for a long time and then I feel his hand on top of mine. I had let my arms fall down to my sides without thinking, but, I don't pull my hand away. In fact, I simply turn my head and look to him and smile gently. He smiles as well, in a way that he can smile, which is beautiful, strange, but beautiful.
"I can make that happen." He tells me. "It's one of the few spells I picked up."
"You mean, make me into a--"
"A furry," James says, "I found a world that appreciates people like me and that's what we call ourselves."
"Yeah," I say with a smile.
"Yes, I can." James continues. "But, I don't think you'll like it. I can't tell you what you'll be, I can't send you back and I don't think you'll like the way I transfer the power to you."
I shake my head, my long, brown hair swinging around behind me. I look down at the guitar and smile wider than I have in a very long time, a genuine smile, not a fake one that I used to put on. I watch him move about a bit and his hand grasps mine, holding it gently, rubbing the pads up along my skin. It's a strange sensation, but, I like it.
Suddenly he leans in and pushes his muzzle against my lips as one of his hands wraps around the back of my head. My eyes widen, my hair begins to stand on end and I immediately begin to pull away from him. But before I can get my lips away from his, I feel a strange sensation in my face.
It's not painful, in fact, it's quite pleasant. Like having a thousand pins gently poked against my skin while something pulls at the skin, like a massage. But, I ignore this pleasantry and pull my face away from him. As soon as my lips are away from his, I gasp in a deep breath and look at him. He simply sits back and looks to me with a gentle smile on his face.
"What the hell are you doing?" I demand of him.
"Look, look at your face." He informs me.
I look down with my eyes to my lips and see something very peculiar. A strange patch of fur has appeared around my lips and nose. In fact, my nose and lips don't look like they used to. They look like they've been pulled away from my skull, sort of rearranged like clay putty on a drying sculpture. I gasp again and see my lips open, whiskers twitching as they protrude from the white and blue fur.
Raising a hand up, I feel it over and know that it is real when my fingers brush against the fur. I gasp again and immediately begin to truly rub my hands against my face. A bluish nose and thick upper lip, even a tiny chin covered in fur have replaced what used to be my face. But, as I feel it over, suddenly it begins to slowly return to the way it was before.
"What did you do to me?" I demand of him as it disappears entirely.
"I transferred to you some of the magic that transformed me." He tells me gently, candidly. "It's the only way that I can do it. It looks like you were turning into a feline of some sort."
"My God, that was crazy." I say and rub my smooth skin as it returns.
James smiles and looks to me, leaning towards me.
"But you liked it, didn't you?" He asks of me, more like telling me the truth.
I close my lips, lower my hand and then nod my head. He could not have said it any clearer or more to the truth. In fact, it was the sensations and strangeness to it all that I must have truly loved the most. I look down to my body and then up to his before returning my still confused eyes to his face.
"I . . . I want it." I tell him. "That was so different, so strange . . . but it was exciting, like life hasn't been in a long time."
James smiles and without a word leans towards me again. This time when he places his hand around onto the small of my back and his other hand onto the back of my neck, I am not surprised. Closing his eyes, he turns his head gently to the side and does his best to line up his canine-like lips with mine. But when they touch and he embraces me fully, I can feel that same strange, pleasant feeling rushing into me.
The same batch of pins and needles begins to fill my face, erupting from his lips and spreading into mine. The pins and needles march like soldiers up the bridge of my nose, around my chin, and even begin to truly wrap around my face. They charge like cavalry down my body and begin to cover me.
All the while, the only thing that I can truly focus on is the person who has been embracing me like so many others have before. But this time it is so different, it doesn't feel forced or awkward. In fact, it's so desired and natural that I dare say that I may have needed this more than he did.
The moments seemed like minutes and then the minutes turned into what feels like hours. The sensation wraps my body like a thermal blanket, leaving no part left out. And then the pins and needles begin to touch me less and less and soon I can hardly feel a thing. Suddenly James breaks the kiss and pulls away from me.
Opening my eyes, I gasp for several breaths, my chest rising and falling in broken succession. My eyes stare at James, widened and surprised. James simply gives me a little smile, barely showing the white teeth hidden behind his lips. He crosses his arms on top of the guitar and then cocks his head to the side.
Licking my lips over, it is the first thing that I feel that is strange. Sharp teeth line the inside of my mouth and my tongue seems longer, thinner and so do my lips. Looking down, I quickly see that same short muzzle I saw before, but, this time I don't see it going anywhere. A black nose sits at the end of it and just behind it are arrays of thin whiskers that sink down into white fur dotted by blue spots.
Dipping my head downwards, I take in several choppy breaths as I stare down at my arms. They are covered in the same, thick white fur marked with blue spots. At the ends, my hands seem thicker with blue claws sticking from the ends of each finger. Lifting them from the ground, I pull them towards my face and flip them over. Black pads, with the same touch of blue, are at the end of each finger and on the pad.
Suddenly a big, thick tail swings around in front of me and catches my attention. It is long, beautiful and luxurious, like a wonderfully expensive fur coat from the most expensive store in New York City. The arctic white fur with blue spots and a black tuff on the end brushes against my entire body, even tickling my nose.
Smiling and even chuckling a bit, I grab the tail and pull it against my body, nuzzling my face into it. As the fur brushes against every part of my face and neck, I sigh with contentment and then begin to relax. Swinging my legs to and fro, feeling a breeze against my feet, I suppose that I must have paws too and have lost my shoes somewhere below. But, it doesn't bother me one bit and seconds later a rumbling purr begins emitting from my neck.
"Are you happy?" James asks me.
I nod my head and sigh. This is probably the best thing that has ever happened to me. It's strange, unforgettable, but wonderful and beautiful. I close my eyes and yawn with a bit of lethargy. My tongue lolls out of my mouth and then goes back in, but, I hardly notice it.
"You're a snow leopard." He tells me. "But, the big question is, how are you going to explain this to your parents? Are you sure that you wanted this, to show up in school like this?"
I sigh and let the thoughts roll around in my head. After a few seconds, I just smile and twitch my whiskers. Opening my eyes, I look to James out of my peripherals and then nod my head.
"I'll figure out something, James, don't worry about that." I say to him. "I'm still my parent's daughter. They'll know who I am. And as for the kids at school, who cares? They're too shallow and conceited to see any beauty other than what's in a magazine. I just wish I could have seen that before now."
"It's going on ten at night." James says to me. "The noise from the house is surprisingly going down. I think people are leaving, maybe even your ride. Maybe you should go."
I shake my head and continue to hug my own tail. Letting my grip loosen just a bit, I let one of my hands fall down to the wooden floor. Seconds later, I feel James place his hand on top of mine and then I hear him sigh. He grasps my hand just gently and places his beneath mine, as if to cushion mine.
"Then you can stay here, I suppose." James says. "I think my family will love to have company, especially company like you."