Star-Crossed | Boy x Boy

𝑳𝒖𝒑

"You look like you fell asleep in the middle of the woods," my mom commented, placing down a plate full of steaming chocolate chip pancakes. 

I reached up discreetly and pulled a couple stray twigs out of my messy red hair. I had told her that I went over to Aster's house to hang out, and we'd fallen asleep watching a horror movie. I told her I came home as soon as I woke up, and that I was in such a hurry I had left my shirt back there. I had tore off the dirty shorts once I got home and pulled on a warm Star Wars hoodie and some green shorts. 

"We were outside a lot," I tried to excuse it, acting as puzzled as she was. For a brief moment I imagined Mom with heightened werewolf superpowers. She'd be able to smell the pack on me, as well as the woods, the rabbit I had slaughtered, and she would definitely be able to smell Aster. She'd probably jump to conclusions that may or may not be right, but I refused to answer the hypothetical what-ifs. I'd never be able to lie to her again, I'd always get caught red-handed, not only because she could smell the answer on me she'd also be a lot better at reading my body language. She'd tell I was guilty in a heartbeat.

Mom walked over to me a planted a gentle kiss on my cheek, something she hadn't done in a long time with the whole "I-hate-touching" thing I had going on, but I welcomed it this time. "I'm so glad to see you're eating again. It's been ages since you sat down and had a meal with your father and I."

I furrowed my brows. When was the last time we had eaten as a family? Probably months ago. I was always off doing stuff- walking in the woods, hanging out with friends, or just at school or school activities. I loved my parents to death, but even though we were spending more time together I felt even more distant. I couldn't imagine how I would feel if my kid became a bloodthirsty werewolf that roams the night and kills small, innocent woodland creatures. The thought made me feel sick to my stomach. I'd never be able to tell them the truth, would I? I doubted they'd even believe me at first, but if I shifted and showed them the true me- would they kick me out? Call the police? 

Mom flipped another pancake on the griddle, the batter sizzling as it met the hot pan. "Did you know they're building some giant thing down on Main Street? They just finished putting together the big house in the woods where your friend lives, and now they're building something else! I'm thinking of putting the sound of cranes and dumptrucks on my White Noise playlist to help me fall asleep at night when it finally stops. I've gotten so used to it now!"

I smiled. I had seen that they were constructing some type of brick building where the old museum used to be. I didn't care too much. What with being a werewolf and feeling like I was growing away from everyone around me, whatever junky traphouse they were building was at the back of my mind. It was funny when my mom ranted, her messy blonde bun bouncing wildly as she bobbed her head. She seemed to get the most heated when she was cooking, so she'd be stirring a pot or folding an omelet as she complained about whatever it was she was mad about. Ever since I was a kid I could remember her long tyrants, and I felt like they brought us closer together, like she was letting me in on some big secret. Especially when I was younger, since I thought grown-ups didn't have any problems. I felt like I was special, like no other kids knew that grown-ups weren't as perfect as they originally thought. Mom found it hilarious when I told her this theory in first grade. She insisted everyone had issues, and that you never knew what someone was going through. It was kind of funny how that still applies today.

Mom tapped her spatula against the counter. "Hello, earth to Red?"

"Right, sorry," I said sheepishly. I'd been zoning out more too. I slid my empty plate across the table. "Can I have some more?"

"Those walks you take must be more like sprints. I don't know how you're keeping all of these pounds off. Your father and I are thrilled you're eating so much, I just don't want you to gain a bunch of weight all at once. You know how mean kids can be," she chided. 

I shook my head. "You don't have to worry about that." Werewolves could eat. It was almost ironic, since wolves in the wild usually ate around once or twice a week instead of a full three-course meal every night like the pack did. I didn't like eating in front of the other wolves, so I tended to bring my meat or sandwhich or whatever it is we were served downstairs to the nursery so that I could eat and hang out with the pups more. I wish I could introduce Jamie to them, she loved little kids. 

As if reading my mind, Mom brought her up as well when she slid another full plate back to me. "Jamie keeps calling the house, wanting to know if you're here or not. She said you kept ignoring her calls and texts, and that she gets really worried when you don't respond almost right away." Mom said this almost mockingly. Mom loved Jamie as much as I did, but Jamie was a bit of a control freak. She wanted to know where you were, who you were hanging out with, and why. Since she started dating Amy, a brunette junior at our highschool, she'd definitely calmed down a bit, but it still got annoying when she kept insisting that we turn our locations on and whatnot. Pissed my dad off, and my mom, for that matter. But Dad didn't really like any of my friends. He preferred it if I stayed home and watched football with him or something. His excuse was that it was "ally behavior" to let a gay do what straight guys liked, like sports and beer. It was honestly hilarious, and despite how that might sound I fucking love my dad. 

"Yeah... I've been hanging out with Aster a lot more lately, and I think she's getting jealous. She still thinks they're some sort of cult, no matter how many times I tell her they aren't. They're just a big family."

Mom nodded. "I've seen some of them in town, buying furniture and things like that. I've never seen them at the grocery store though. How strange is that?"

"I know some of them hunt a little bit, but I think they get a lot of their food delivered," I lied. Yeah. RawMeat.com, I thought sarcastically. Of course werewolves don't go to the grocery store, they get all their food from the forest. They'll find berries, too, and Elaine said that they were thinking of growing a garden next spring. 

Mom shrugged. "I suppose they're just a bit shy."

I nodded. "Especially with some of the judgemental people around here." I glanced at my phone. It was almost noon already. I wanted to sleep some more, to try and forget about how good it felt to run, but I had twenty-three text messages from Jamie and Adam. I opened up contacts and swiped left on Jamie's.

"Hey, do you want to the park?"