Brody
The Lusty Lads Bar and Grill is just like I remembered it. One of the local bands play good old country music up front and every table’s full, even the bar’s crowded. I sit myself at my favorite spot close to the bartender, where I have a bird’s eye view of everyone there. Even the folks are the same, some a couple of years older, more weary, but otherwise, unchanged. Humans mix right in with the supernatural.
Still a rarity from where I’ve been. At Southpaw, where I’m currently finishing my bachelor’s degree in English, the normals and the paranormal community don’t usually mix. I keep being a werewolf to myself. Even if I possessed a loud personality, most of my peers don’t really associate the openly gay but cool friend as a werewolf. They seem to have the impression werewolves are always buffed, growly and downright mean.
I always look forward to spending the long weekend back in Applewood, because let’s face it: there’s nothing quite like home. Southpaw’s been good to me and all, but it gets tiring hiding one important aspect of my identity. Back in Applewood, there’s no pretension.
“Here’s your usual,” Carl the bartender says, sliding a beer to my direction.
I raise the bottle to him in a salute and drink down the golden ambrosia. “Fuck, that’s good.”
“You sure sound like you’re doing the dirty, buddy,” remarks a voice.
Usually, I don’t take well to insults, but I recognize the speaker. Gio, my childhood friend and fellow pack member, slides to the seat next to mine and orders a beer from Carl.
“I thought you were only coming in tomorrow night?” Gio asks.
“I thought I’d head straight here after my last exam and besides, my mom’s been bugging me to see her new home. After I said hi, I came right over here. She says you asshats are still hanging out here.”
Gio grins. By his shoulder, his boyfriend, Todd appears. “Hey, Brody. Glad you decided to come home early.”
“You up for some fun tonight?” Another voice adds. Seeing Ryan, I grin. Our brat pack’s now a complete set.
“What sort of fun?” I ask, interested.
A familiar glint appears in Gio’s eyes. That one look’s enough to remind me of the time when we were more rowdy wolf pups. “Nothing illegal, but Jerry and the other pack head honchos are out of town for a conference.”
I raise my eyebrows at that. “Really? Come on, fellas. We’re too old for this shit. I just want to get hammered and maybe get some handsome, unattached cowboy to ride me.”
The guys share knowing looks.
“Stop sounding old, Brody. You’re twenty-one for God’s sake. Play the drinking game with us,” Todd complains.
“If you guys are buying, then I’m up for anything.”
What the heck? It’s rare that I’m home anyways and I sure could go for some fun. Besides, I can’t tell my chums the reason why I’m so eager to head back here. After going strong for three solid years, my boyfriend, and love of my life, decides to break up with me. The discriminating jerk apparently couldn’t accept I was a werewolf, after I finally had the guts to tell him my huge secret. That was an excuse though, because only hours after our break-up I found Josh necking with another guy.
“Quarters?” Ryan suggests.
“I’m game.”
Let me tell you folks. It takes a long time for us werewolves to get remotely drunk. Our supernatural system tries to pilfer the poison out each time, but drink enough and we eventually get tipsy.
For some reason, the guys keep picking on me. I take a swing, and another. I won’t lie. The taste of alcohol feels damn good. Soon enough, all the tension in my body ebbs away. I begin slurring curses.
“That’s enough, pups,” growls Carl. “One of you better take Brody home, or face his momma’s wrath.”
Let me explain his statement. Since our pack alpha Jerry is gay, my momma, Leticia is sort of the head matronly she-wolf. She takes care of the welfare of the female pack members, although a lot of male wolves go to her for a friendly ear. Leticia’s also in charge of bake sales and organizing pack events. Everyone’s also terrified of crossing her.
“Will do, Carl,” Ryan says. Gio and Ryan help me out of my seat, but the night’s just beginning. Once outside the parking lot, Todd reminds me I owe them a penalty.
“What do I do?” I mutter.
“Jesus. I think we should bring him home,” Gio tells the guys.
“No,” I say, surprised by how insistent I sound. “I want to play. I’m not out of commission yet.”
They trade concerned looks.
“Come on, fellas. Bring it.” I’m aware of how juvenile I sound. Among us, I’ve always been the wild one. I can never fly straight because I believe rules are meant to be broken. Besides, my wolf wanted out. I can feel the beast pacing restlessly inside me, pissed it never got a chance to rip out Josh’s human throat.
“Alright,” Ryan says reluctantly. “Go up to the cabin in the woods. You know the one. It’s where the reclusive werebear lives.”
I frown. “Jerry and the others always tell us to keep away from that psycho.”
“Scared, Brody?”
I growl, and I can almost feel my pupils shifting to wolf-yellow. A bad sign I was losing control. The logical thing was to postpone the game. Head back home and hit the sheets. Tomorrow I’ll sport a bad hangover, but I’ll be sober enough to finish the game. That smells like defeat though, and that’s one thing I can’t stand.
“No way in hell I’m afraid of some crazy old werebear,” I point out.
There’s a hill called the Maiden’s Bluff up in the large expanse of woods surrounding the town. When the full moon comes around, the entire pack goes for a run, but we somehow avoid Maiden’s Bluff like a plague.
Rumors range from the insane to the ridiculous about the loner living there. Some shifters choose self-exile for a reason. They either refuse to mingle with human society or plainly can’t control their animal half. Some wolves say it’s the ghost of the mean bear living there. Others say, the bear’s a stone cold killer who Jerry owes a favor to, so Jerry allows him to remain up there in his own solitary piece of heaven.
What’s the worst that can happen? I’ll either find an angry ghost or a stringy old man hollering at me to get out.
The others trade looks again but after a couple of snarls, they give in. We troop inside Gio’s black hummer. The drive feels like a surreal experience. Todd lets me ride shotgun. Gio rolls down the windows so the cold air whips our faces. Kind of takes me to a time back when we were kids. We’re no longer in high school though, and I’ve no intention of reliving our glory days, but it’s nice to let loose once in awhile.
“Fuck. I miss you guys. Miss this town the most.”
“Should have gone to the local university with us, buddy,” Todd says from the back seat.
From the side mirror, I see Ryan nudge him sharply in the ribs. He’s right. I chose Southpaw for purely selfish reasons. I wanted to follow after Josh and tag after him like some besotted puppy, and to get away from the familiar. That’s the kicker though. We only begin to yearn for home the moment we’re living far away, thinking of the important things we thought we’ve been ready to say goodbye to.
People in the paranormal community think we shifters are homebound creatures, and that we can’t roam too far away from our pack. Maybe they’re right. The longing to be with my own kind gets really bad when full moon comes around. I think of the pack energy connecting all of us like a warm tether.
I miss the yips and howls as we shed our human skins and unleash our animal half, and it’s that moment when I feel truly connected with my wolf. Its times like that I begin desperately searching for my mate among the pack. Every race in the paranormal community says shifters are damn lucky in the love department because we come with an in-built software telling us when we hit the jackpot.
They have no idea that the process isn’t easy or instant. I thought Josh had been my mate, but a man who can’t accept my two halves isn’t a guy I’d envision spending the rest of my life with. I tell myself it’s not much of a loss. I’m a male Omega, valued for being able to bring natural born shifter pups into the world. Josh is human and he won’t be able to give me the pups I want, but that’s just what I tell myself to feel better. Peachy.
“It’s not too late to transfer. You sure look like shit, Brody. Something happened?”
I hate having friends who know me inside out. “Not interested in talking, and Gio? Don’t think of driving back into town. I’m doing this shit.”
I don’t know whether it’s pure stubbornness driving me at this point. Besides, I have a feeling once I shift and head for the cabin, my friends won’t be far behind. They’re eggheads that way. Gio stops near the ‘Welcome to Applewood, Home of the Friendliest Werewolf Pack’ sign.
I get out, well, more of stumble out.
“Brody,” Ryan snaps, but I wave him away. “You’re in no condition to do this. We get it, man. You need to unwind, but not like this.”
“Shut up.” I strip down, fumbling with my belt and laces.
Damn things. Once I’m buck naked, I shift. I’d thought it would be hard, given the amount of alcohol I’ve ingested, but it’s surprisingly easy. Bones creak. Fur covers my skin, and canines and claws emerge. I hit all fours, and let out a triumphant growl. It feels damn good, being in my wolf skin. To blend in, I avoided shifting in Southpaw at the risk of being shot at by angry shifter-hating hunters.
“Keep an eye on him,” Gio warns. I ignore him.
“Brody!” Todd yells, except I’m halfway into the woods.