Shift (The Pandorma Adventures Book 1) (8 page)

“It's very different from yours.”

That’s helpful.
I fixate my gaze back on the movie, watching as Ian Malcolm lights a flare of his own. How different could our planets be?
If
they are even separate planets. She could just be talking about a jungle in India for all I know.

* * * *

I open the door to the library and just barely keep myself from running up the stairs like a mad person. I’d thought very hard last night about what Darklily told me and it adds up to only one thing: truth. As a cat what would Dark gain by lying? Not only would no one believe her, but she’d be locked away as a science experiment the second she spoke to the wrong person. So against all logic stored inside me, I decide to believe her. But I still want a second opinion.

Trevor is tucked in his corner headphones on, head bent over his pad. I take a deep, relaxing breath before saying, “Trevor.”

He jumps slightly.
Hah.
Trevor slips the headphones off and gives me an annoyed look. I glance at his picture. A barn owl is in the middle of the paper. Behind it, jaws wide ready to kill the bird, is a black wolf its eyes dripping with hunger. Trevor has a very disturbed mind indeed.

“What is it?”

I try to gather my scrambled thoughts. I can just out right ask him but it's how I ask him that matters. If I want a straight, truthful answer I need a straight face. My best approach would be to dead-on ask. If I say it like I’m thinking right now, jokingly, he’ll use it to his advantage. I take another breath, erasing my mind and looking him straight on.

“Are you a werewolf?”

Trevor's face is stricken for a split second then instantly it goes back to being guarded.

“No lying Trevor. A friend of mine saw you
transform
and I’ve heard a wolf howling at night.”

“Don’t you mean coyotes? And what friend is that? Your current one isn’t much of an outdoors fan.”

I purse my lips. That is true. Fawn dislikes anything beyond civilization.

“Unless you’re throwing your boyfriend into that category.”

“Ugh, Ryan is
not
my boyfriend and you know it. Now are you or not?” Trevor looks out the window, his body tense.

“There’s no point in lying. I already know you are.”

“Then why are you asking?”

“Aha! So I’m right,” I say, but it still slightly sounds like a question.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Look Trevor, we can go in circles all day or we can walk in a straight line and get this over with.”

Trevor just sits there, stone still, working his jaw, his midnight eyes chaotic.

“You know I can sit here all day pestering you.”

Trevor chuckles, slightly. Virtually shoving his things off his lap he walks to the window. “My uncle came to visit Mom and me a few weeks before I turned sixteen. He brought this box jam-packed with books about werewolves. He gave me the box and told me to read them. When I was done with about half of the books, I skimmed through most of them, he asked me what I thought about shifting and I said that it sounded cool. But I meant cool in a sense, not like actually being able to.

One day he took me into the woods and started telling me all these facts about werewolves. After a while I got fed up and asked him if there was a reason he was telling me all this stuff. He stopped walking, looked me in the eye and told me that he was one. I laughed. I mean who wouldn’t? Werewolves are fictional. But he insisted. Then right in front of my eyes he changed. He went from human to wolf in seconds. I ran away.”

I can tell Trevor is still ashamed about running away, but before I can say anything he continues.

“I avoided him as much as I could but one night he came in my room and told me that I would shift soon and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I scoffed and ignored him as best as I could, but he continued prepping me for my first shift. It didn’t matter how much I denied it because in the end I shifted.” He pauses before adding, “It’s not like in stories where you have to be bitten to turn into a werewolf. I was born one and I guess my father was one too but didn’t get the chance to tell me.”

Trevor shrugs then turns to look at me, his eyes weighing my expression. I’m stuck between disbelief and understanding. Something significant that he had no control over had changed his life, I could relate. But I couldn’t grasp the possibility of him shifting into another form.

“Is that why you pushed me away? You look the same. No one even knows.”

“It's one of those things that changes you on the inside,” Trevor says.

A silence settles over us. It's neither totally relaxed nor entirely strained. Trevor’s secret is out, his burden somewhat lightened. I can tell. But there is still too much unsaid for us to become the friends we were before.

Trevor is a werewolf
. I test the words in my mind then sigh inwardly. Was that number six or seven on my growing list of changes that have been thrown at me?

“I believe you.”

There’s a pause then he asks, “So who is this friend?”

“Her name is Darklily. I call her Dark. She’s,” I clear my throat, “that panther I was telling you about.”

Trevor stares at me skeptically.

“The panther that talked to you is your friend? Are you feeling okay?”

“Trevor!” I exclaim.

Trevor rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry but it's hard to believe that an animal can talk.”

“Says the one who is a werewolf!”

“Alright, alright. So, pretending for a minute that you’re telling the truth and not just seeing things . . .”

I give him a look.

“What did this cat say to you?”

“Don’t make fun of me okay?” I ask even though I’m sure he will. He doesn’t say anything so I continue, “She told me that she’s from this place called Pandorma and that she came here to find me. She said something about a war destroying their planet and that she needs me to help.”

Trevor laughs. “You’ve always had a great imagination Lissa but making up stories about talking cats and foreign wars? That’s a little much even for you.”

“But I’m not making it up!”

“Then why is she asking you for help instead of someone else?’

“Because I can shift into animals.” I look away. Saying it out loud doesn’t make it sound more believable.

“Right. I have to go meet my mom for lunch. Let me know if you decide to go fight this war.”

“I’ll do that,” I say. He lets out a bark of laughter but doesn’t say anything. He packs up his stuff then tosses me a smile as he leaves and I’m left standing there with my thoughts.

I tilt my head up to the sky. It’s a robin's egg blue. Except for the distant gray clouds inching forward like snails. I’m lying in the grass field adjacent to the park. Five benches and five picnic tables are scattered across the grass. The table’s wood is swollen and the top's gunky in spots. There are 20 birch trees; yes I have been lying here long enough to count them. I close my eyes and put my arm over my face.

I came out here to try and stop thinking—just for a bit if possible. I don’t want to think about Trevor being a werewolf or me being a shifter or Dark’s planet being destroyed. I don’t want to think about my parents possibly being shifters too but not telling me. I can understand Mom not telling me but Dad? He would’ve told me if he could shift. Maybe one of my relatives could shift but never told anyone and somehow I got their shifter gene.

I shake my head. This is exactly what I
don’t
want to think about.

Sometimes Abandon seems like less than two steps away from being a ghost town. It can be so utterly still if you come out here at the right time. Right now I don’t want the biting silence. I want to hear the crunch of shoes as someone runs the dirt track circling the grass field. I want to hear children laughing, mothers chattering, the cooing of couples hidden in the intricate world of love. But there’s nothing. Not even the squeak of a swing or chatter of birds—nothing to distract me from fear. I fear leaving by myself with Dark. I don’t fear being alone; it’s being alone in a foreign place that scares me. I’ve always had Dad by my side when I went somewhere new. I rub my eyes, frustrated. Maybe I shouldn’t leave, but I should. And part of me wants to. Before I make up my mind I should ask her why she picked me. Maybe her answer will help me make up my mind.

When the heat that’s warming me starts to dissipate I uncover my face. Instead of a cloud blocking the sun it's Ryan.

“You’re blocking my sun,” I say.

“Sorry.” Ryan lies down beside me, just barely touching his shoulder with mine. “Are you cloud gazing or thinking?”

I’m thinking, but trying not to. But I’m not telling Ryan that because then he might ask what about, so I answer, “Just laying here.”

“Oh. Are you—doing anything tonight?” he asks awkwardly a few minutes later.

I definitely was not doing anything tonight. Home meant having Dark pester me about going to help her world. Staying with Fawn for a night is out of the question because her parents dislike company.

“Nope.”

“No offense, but there’s absolutely nothing to do here. Cardinal City has a bowling alley that’s open tonight. We could go—if you want.”

“There’s also ice skating.” I squeeze my eyes shut.
Darn it.
I hadn’t meant to say that out loud, it had just slipped out. “I mean they have ice skating as well. Not that we have to do that. Bowling is fine with me,” I say.
Ugh.
Pathetic. I glance at Ryan. His face is carefully blank.

“I don’t mind ice skating,” he says. Ryan’s voice has just a hint of an emotion that I can’t place.

“I’ll pick you up at eight thirty.”

* * * *

“What is ice skating?” Darklily tips her head at me, eyes inquisitive.

“It’s gliding around on ice,” I answer as I nervously throw on some warmer clothes.

The doorbell rings. I open the door to my room and step out.

“Wait! What about—”

“Your planet. I know. I will go with you.”

Dark’s tail flicks happily. “We leave in the morning.”

“So soon? What if I’m not ready to go then?” I ask anxiously.

Dark’s eyes flash impatiently. “Lissa you’ve had days to make up your mind.”

“I know! But, looking at this from my perspective, I’m leaving my home. I also just lost my parents—I need a little time to breathe.”

She looks away. The doorbell rings again. I bite my lip. I go over to Darklily and crouch in front of her. I gently touch her shoulder. Dark’s fur is thick and velvety.

“I said I will go and I will. I will be ready to leave in the morning,” I say with enthusiasm I don’t entirely feel.

“I hope so,” she says.

There’s a knock at the front door.

I look toward the hallway. The butterflies in my stomach pull me toward the door but it feels rude to just leave.

“I’ll see you later,” I say. Dark springs onto my bed and I clomp down the stairs. Feeling torn, I ruffle the hair behind my ear. Ryan knocks again. I open the door to Ryan wearing a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Ryan if you’d rather go bowling that’s fine.”

It looks like he’s going to take me up on my offer but doesn’t. “No.”

* * * *

The ice is smooth beneath my blade and I glide effortlessly across the whiteness. I turn around to Ryan. He’s standing in the doorway watching me.

“Come on,” I encourage.

Ryan eyes the ice warily then takes a hesitant step on. He instantly slips, but catches himself. When he’s steadied he takes another step, a determined look on his face. Ryan takes two more strides then slips again, grunting as he falls onto the ice.

“I can’t skate.” He sits up. Ryan says it nonchalantly but I can tell he wants to know how to skate. I glide over and stick out a hand to help him up. A jolt of feeling ricochets through me when his hand slides into mine. I carefully shuffle the feeling away so my voice remains carefree, not strained with emotion.

“Everyone starts the same way.” I go in front of him. “Look.” I lift my skate and move it at an angle. “That’s a stroke. Ice skating is much like roller skating.”

Ryan does his best to copy me but it looks like part step part stroke.

“Not bad.”

“You’re just saying that,” Ryan says.

I smile. “No. You’re doing fine.”

He tries again and goes down. I smother a laugh and extend my hand to help him up. Another bolt of electricity goes up my arm, ending with a tingly sensation running through me.

He tries again. One of Ryan’s legs goes to the side the other slips backwards, almost taking me down with him, but I grab the wall and stiffen my legs. He clutches my hand tighter as he gathers his feet under him. I can’t stifle my laugh this time. Ryan gives me his crooked smile and sounding a little breathless says, “This is harder than it looks.”

“Just relax,” I say. We move a few inches before I say, “Most people think it’ll be a cinch. Then they actually get on the ice.” Several minutes later I tease, “Did you expect to be a prodigy or something?”