Aria

My boots slide slightly in the melting snow as I hurry down the sidewalk toward home. It is a cold evening, and the sun is going down, which means this slush will be frozen again soon. Then, it will be ice, which is dangerous to humans, but not to me. Still, the people around me are hunkered down, pulling their coats tight around their shoulders, their heads tipped against the wind. Most of them have gloves, scarves, and stocking caps on their heads. It is cold in this northern city, one I am not used to yet. I would like to go home, to my family’s estate in the south, where it is usually sunny and warm. This is not because it is cold here; I do not feel the bite of the wind or the sting of the dropping temperatures the way the humans do thanks to my higher body temperature. But I want to go home for nearly every other reason I could possibly think of.

The thumping of my bookbag against my back becomes a rhythmic drum as I walk along. I carry only the books I needed today, but four books might be heavy to someone who doesn’t have the unusual strength that I have. I look slight, but my looks are deceiving. 

I am almost home now. I can see our dingy apartment building up ahead of me as the streetlights come on. It is about eight stories high, old, and hasn’t been renovated for decades. Our tiny two bedroom apartment, if you can count a curtained off area as a room, is always dirty, no matter how hard my mom cleans, and full of cockroaches and other unmentionables. Even the thought of walking in and seeing my parents’ defeated expressions makes me tired.

I take a deep breath, trying to think of something happier, and am glad to have my first semester of junior college over with. I’ve taken eight classes, a lot for one semester, but I wanted to get a firm foundation and get all of my required courses out of the way. Next semester, I plan to take more math and science classes so that when I apply to a four-year university, I will already have enough credits to enroll in the premed classes I want to take. I’d love to be a doctor one day. 

Everything seems so different now, though, than it did when I lived down south in my family’s home. Generations of Vargas had lived there before my parents, Charlotte and Edward, had to give it up and move here. I don’t like to think about what happened. I don’t like to think about all of the changes that have happened, At least I am still able to go to school. At least, if I continue to do my best and work hard, I might still have the dreams I’ve been holding tight to these past four months since we had to move here.

As I approach the flight of stairs that leads up to my building, a couple comes down, not looking where they are going. The man’s shoulder hits me hard, knocking me over sideways. “Watch where you’re going!” he growls at me.

My blue eyes narrow as I catch myself and keep from tumbling over. I wish I could shift right now and show him who needs to be more careful! But I can’t. This town we live in is a non-shifter town, which means most of the people who live here are not aware that shifters exist. They would be terrified and think we are werewolves. They’d bring torches and come after us, like they used to in the olden days. So I am not allowed to shift at all, not even at night when most humans are at home, alone. Certainly not right now on the sidewalk outside of my home because a rude couple is shouting at me.

I don’t apologize to them, though. I just glare back at them and follow them down the sidewalk with my eyes, shaking my head and wishing there was something I could do to get even with them, but there is nothing, and it’s not worth my time to remain angry. There are plenty of others out there to be angry with.

“Are you all right?” I hear a deep, gravelly voice say and look up immediately.

There’s a young man staring at me with jade green eyes that look genuinely concerned. He is probably the most handsome man I’ve ever seen in my life, with a jaw of steel, a perfectly sculpted nose, and eyebrows that are neatly groomed above his gorgeous eyes. His dark hair is perfectly coiffed even though the ringlets around the nape of his neck give me the impression that he has naturally curly hair, which in my experience, is usually difficult to keep in place. I should know. My long, curly auburn hair falls down my back almost to my waist.

I see concern in his eyes and lose my ability to speak for a moment. When my voice finally comes back to me, I manage to say, “Oh, yes. I’m fine. Thanks.”

He smiles at me and I realize he’s wrapped his fingers around the sleeve of my coat. The garment is thick enough that I don’t even realize he was touching me until he pulls his hand away. “Good,” he says. “Some people can be so rude.”

“Yes, yes they can,” I agree, looking over my shoulder in the direction in which the couple has disappeared. They are long gone now. I turn back to the gorgeous man in front of me. I think he might be about my age, maybe a little older. I want to ask him his name, what he’s doing here, if he’s lost or looking for something, but words don’t form on the tip of my tongue. He’s too good looking, and I’ve lost my ability to think or speak coherently.

I stand there staring at him for a long moment, neither of saying anything, when the door at the top of the stairs, the one I should’ve hurried through by now, opens wide, and a group of gentlemen comes out. 

The one in the center looks similar to the younger gentleman standing in front of me. They have eyes that are very much the same, though the older man’s are not quite as bright. Their hair is a similar shade, cut differently, and they are both wearing suits beneath long black coats. Their clothing is expensive. The older man looks at me, but it’s as if his gaze goes right through me, as if I am not worthy of letting my eyes focus on him and need to look away, which I do. It is then that I realize the sedan sitting next to the sidewalk, just a few steps from me is idling. It is also an expensive item. I am not surprised when the driver gets out to open the door for the group, keeping his head low, as if he realizes he, too, is not worthy to look upon this grand gentleman.

I step aside, feeling ridiculous for even speaking to the young man who belongs in this car, with this group. Back home, it would’ve been nothing for me to speak to someone of their status. I was the daughter of the Alpha after all, akin to a princess. Back home, I had everything a girl could ever want. Beautiful clothes, a luxury sports car to drive around, lots of friends. All of the gadgets and devices a person could ever need. My parents lavished gifts on me without me even having to ask. I was so spoiled, I didn’t even realize how lucky I was, how blessed my life truly was.

But now… I am nothing. All of that is gone now. I don’t have any of it, not even my phone. Instead, I have a flip phone from the local pharmacy. I am a shadow of who I used to be. I’m a poor college student wearing shabby clothing. The kind of girl a man can run into on the street and shout at.

“See you,” the young man says to me as he follows the others into the car.

I nod my head at him, but I think, “No, no you won’t. You’ll never see me again. A guy like you? A girl like me? Nope.” I say nothing, though, only watch them climb in the car, the driver closing the door before he rushes around and shifts into drive, pulling out into traffic. I realize then that I am being nosy and rush up the stairs, heading inside, trying to get that young man’s face out of my mind.

But even as I approach our apartment in the basement, he refuses to go. His face is etched in my mind, and I think to myself, “Maybe someday I will see him again. Wouldn’t that be lucky?”

“Oh, Aria,” my wolf’s voice whispers in my head. “You have no idea.”