Angel Blackwood(39)

“We’re good apples, Nix… Good ones for now. But if we hang around the bad ones for too long, we’ll perish too,” I say through a yawn, closing my eyes.

I feel Nixon move the hair out of my face before I fall asleep.





****





I wake up the next morning with my first hangover. Clearly if I was a full blooded wolf, this wouldn’t be the case. I wouldn’t be hungover and I wouldn’t have a very evident blue bruise over my left eyebrow, which is only adding to the headache I have right now. After waking up late afternoon, I lounged around Nixon’s place watching TV and after raiding his fridge for greasy food. Finding nothing, I decide to take a walk home.





I take a bite out of an apple as I look through my parent’s massive fridge. I find burger patties and luckily enough there’s fresh bread buns sitting on the table. I find cheese too and throw that on the counter along with the rest of my stock pile.

“Hungry, sweetie?” I jump, and the apple goes flying. Dad walks in just in time to catch it and take a bite.

“Mom! Give a girl some warning! I didn’t hear you walk in. Jeepers,” I say, leaning on the table trying to catch my breath. I put my hand to my temples and close my eyes. The headache is worse, and my eyes feel like they’re going to close on their own accord if I don’t have a nap soon.

I hear them chuckling then listen to my dad’s jaw as he chews on my apple.

“Well, you were so focused on finding food to cure that hangover, no wonder you didn’t realise I’ve been sitting here the whole time,” Alex says.

Johnny coughs on an apple and pats his chest with a fist. “Hangover?” He asks, and I know I’m in for a lecture. Of course it’s not like I’m a saint, I have lied before and don’t let anyone tell you that withholding information from someone isn’t lying, it is…to an extent. I learnt that the hard way. Let’s just say… I’m turning over a new leaf. Not lying to my parents is number one on that checklist. However, as for the withholding part, other people’s lives might be at risk if I was to tell them everything; especially the part about my mates. The one that rejected me and the ones that are about to.

“Yeah. Didn’t drink much but this definitely is a hangover, for sure,” I mumble, as I find a seat next to mom and rest my head on my folded hands.

“Aww, sweetie. Let me make you something to eat,” Alex says in her sweet motherly voice. That’s not at all what I expected her response to be.

“Why the hell are you hungover? You shouldn’t be drinking in the first place!” Johnny roars, making me wince and curl into my folded arms even more. I avoid looking up at him at all costs, I really don’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes right now.

“Jon! Don’t yell so loud! Let her be,” Alex says, whilst digging through the cabinets.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” I whisper, my head still curled into my folded arms resting on the table. I really don’t want him to be mad at me. Everything turns quiet in the kitchen, then I hear my father’s loud footsteps, a cabinet door opening, closing, and then the tap turns on then off. I hear the clink of a glass as its set on the counter in front of me. The bar stool next to me skids on the floor and then a big hand rub my back.

“Drink this, baby girl. It’ll help.” I lift my head just a little to see my father sitting next to me with a concerned look on his face. I take the pills from him, downing them with the water.

“Never been hungover before?” I shake my head.

“I’m sorry I shouted,” he says, pulling me into his side. My mom watches our exchange and with a smile, gets back to work.

“It’s okay. I deserved it.” I take another sip of the water.

“You’re a good girl and your mother and I trust you. As long as you drink responsibly we don’t have a problem with it. But, I’m telling you right now, young lady, you break our trust then this little arrangement is over. Okay?” He says, in a stricter tone. I nod and he turns to looks at mom.

“Think I’m handling this parenting thing pretty well.” He smiles proud of himself. My mother just rolls her eyes in amusement.





After eating the scrumptious, enormous cheese packed burger mom made, I waddle my way up the stairs. I see Tyler in the hallway, and all my senses intensify. The wolf inside me wants to hold him near, never letting him go, but I know that the feeling isn’t mutual, no matter how many times Faith tells me his wolf wants us.

He stops when I walk past and reaches out for my hand. I want to pull him close, but I don’t know how he’d react to it and I know it wouldn’t last long anyway. He’d eventually realise what he’s doing, then he’d push me away. I decide to avoid any confrontation by pushing him away first.