It's my Senior Year at Washington Highschool. I have been playing with my nails while watching the clock slowly tick my. It seems like an eternity had gone by. Will this class never end? It doesn't help that I hate school. And History even more. For the life of me I can never remember the dates and it's so boring! I get it. It's important. Those who forget the past are bound to repeat it, and all that shit. But, I can learn the lessons of the past and not remember it was in 1776 or whatever. And would it be so hard to make it interesting? I love stories. Couldn't we make these lessons interesting and engaging? Instead, Mr. Oliphant stands in the front of the class, droning on in monotone about the French and Indian war. At least, I think that's what he's talking about... I kind of zoned out after the first few sentences of his monologue.
The shrill scream of the bell finally alerted me the this torture was finished and I could finally go home. I quickly grabbed my books and scurried to my locker. I hate all these people. We live outside a fairly large town, or maybe small city. And the halls are crowded with people. I am more of a loner. I don't like people much and the last place I want to be is surrounded by loud, obnoxious, hormonal teenagers. I exit the school as quick as possible. I walked with long strides towards our bright red Jeep Wrangler, and leaned against the hood waiting for my brothers. We are triplets. My mom is a werecat, a lion to be exact, so multi child births are common. We are all a product of a one night stand when she was 19. My brother's, like my mom are also lions. My mother found her mate when me and my brothers were a couple years old. He's the king of the pride. We have around 100 people in it. My mom is 5'9" and while she's still feminine, and she has nice curves, there's some substance to her. My brother's are almost 6'3, with a typical tough, jock look they look almost identical. Though they aren't. My step dad, is 6'6, and looks like a body builder, I swear. My brother's claim they are still growing. So maybe they will be that tall someday too. There's a aura about all of them that exudes power. All of them are social creatures. Meant to live in groups, surrounded by their own kind.
I am none of these things. I am 5'8 which is a respectable hight for a guy. But I have a femininity and grace that's unexpected in a man. I have lean, almost non-existent muscles. And the stealth of a cat. But not the strength and power of a lion. No, I am a Cheetah. Imagine everyone's surprise when we turned five and shifted for the first time. Expecting three cute little lion cubs, but no, one is definitely not a lion, they're a cheetah. My fur is so dark, it's almost black. I can't quite claim to be a black panther, but it's close. I am an introvert and communal living is my hell. More often then not, I leap out of my window and lay in one of the trees in the forrest that surrounds the Pride house. I like to lay, half asleep listening to the birds chirping and the wind rustling through the trees. The laughs and screams of the children running around, the gossip and chatter of the pride, and the overall chaos, nothing but a quiet hum in the background. I can't completely escape the noise. But, there's peace within the wilderness. I love nothing more than the tranquility that comes with being alone in the forrest.
I am snapped out of my thoughts by my brothers Tyler and Ryder. They're shoving each other and laughing loudly. Running towards me at full speed. I leap out of the way and stand to the side of the car just as they both collide with the car. I can only assume they were racing. Always being competitive. They are both typical dumb jocks. And they are the quintessential definition of hot. Blonde hair, sparkling blue green eyes and sharp jaw lines. They make our father proud. He has even mentioned possibly passing his title on to one of them, if they prove themselves. We have a couple brothers in 9th grade, that are our fathers blood children. But he happily took up the roll of father for us. Well, for them. They are the epitome of what he wanted in a child. He has four perfect children. And me. Nobody in my family understands me. Nor do they try. I know I like being alone much of the time, but it would be nice to be loved. Noticed. Appreciated. Not that I'm holding my breath. I gave up that pipedream ages ago. Now I do what I want, dress how I like, and live to please myself. If they will be disappointed in me no matter what I do, I might as well live a life in such a way, that makes me happy. And I do. Well, as much as I can. I feel lonely, and unloved, almost entirely invisible, but that seems to be my lot in life. Even before I lived my life for myself, I felt that way. So at least I like myself, even if nobody else does.
I watched Ryder and Tyler and they both bolt for the driver side door, fighting over who will drive us home. Laughing boisterously, as they keep shoving each other out of the way. I quietly walk to the passenger side door and climb in the back. I know they will make me move if I sit shotgun. And it's just not worth the struggle. I don't have energy for all of this. I just want to go home. I'm tired. I am a lazy cat. That's unquestionable. Being around a thousand kids makes me exhausted. I curl up and lay my head against the back window, and wait for my idiotic brothers to sort out where they will sit. I rolled my eyes as Tyler climbed in the driver's seat and put my headphones and zone out. Trying to ignore the chaos around me.
After driving a half hour out of town, we pull into the long drive that brings us towards our pride's house. I casually strut to the house, my black heeled boots clicking with each step, as my brothers race to the door. As I walk through the sitting room and make my way towards the stairs, my mother call to us. I follow her voice and find her and her husband in the dining hall, my mother yelling commands to those working in the kitchen. "Don't forget we're celebrating Zeke and Xander's 15th birthday today." I sigh in frustration. Just when I though I might finally get some time to myself.
Unfortunately, that frustrated sigh was enough to draw Silas, my step-father's attention. Okay, I lied. Almost nobody noticed me. Or gives a shit what I do. But every once in a while Silas gets a hair up his ass, and likes to tell me exactly what he thinks of me, which isn't great. I internally groan as he turns and looks at me, his eyes narrowing. "What in the hell are you wearing?" He all but growls at me. I raised my eyebrow and looked down at my outfit. It was relatively tame compared to some of the clothes I wear. I had on some black heeled boots, faded skinny jeans and a black oversized sweater that hung off to one side. Revealing my delicate shoulder. "And you need a haircut you look like a girl" he sneered. I closed my eyes and looked towards the ceiling. So, it was one of these days. I wasn't transgender. I'm a boy. I just think gender normatives and stereotypes are a social construct and well... Bullshit. I like feeling sexy. And I feel sexiest in more feminine clothes. Some days, you'll see me in men's clothes. Mostly, when I'm having a down day, and don't give a shit what I look like. But most days I like looking hot, and showing off my more feminine curves. I have long thin legs that go on for miles, slightly wider hips, and a cute little bubble butt. And you can't tell me that I would be able to show off my assets in men's clothes. And with my three inch heels, it makes my legs look even more long and lean.
My bleach blonde hair is half way down my back, it's thick, and cascades down in waves. It almost has a silver sheen. With my big dark brown eyes, high cheekbones and delicate facial features, I do look more female. I figured a few years ago, I might as well work with what the gods gave me. No matter how hard I would try to appear manly and strong, it wasn't going to happen. So now, I make the most of my body and looks. Fuck society, and their toxic masculinity. I don't want anything to do with it.
I open my eyes and look straight at Silas. "What's wrong with women? None of us would be here without them. They're powerful, beautiful, and strong. Everything I could ever hope to be. I for one, think women are amazing. I'm not a woman, nor am I trying to be a woman. But being called a woman is definitely not an insult. Are you implying my mother is less than you for being a woman?" I asked. Trying hard to keep my voice innocent and sweet. Careful not to be accusatory. I know I'm pushing my luck, but maybe if he's pissed off enough, he'll send me to my room. And right now, there's nowhere else I'd rather be. My mother had a look of discomfort and annoyance. I'm not sure if it's at me or Silas, nor do I care. It's sad really, women believe in male superiority as much as men do, unfortunately. And let's face it, she's mated to the guy so she must not have much of a problem with his mindset. Otherwise they would never be compatible.
Silas let out a angry growl and backhanded me face. "Don't get smart with me. Go up to your room. I don't want to see your face again for the rest of the night. You disgust me." He
Roars. As I casually walked up the stairs I heard Silas berate my mother. "This is what happens when you give a boy a girly name. Of course he's going to be a sissy. I can't for the life of me, understand why you would ever name a boy Skyler. Boys need strong, manly names. Ryder, now that's a strong name. At least you got that right." This he's voice softened. "Oh sweety, I don't blame you entirely for him. It has to be mostly his father's fault. All our other kids our perfect. He just doesn't belong here, he's not one of us."
I rolled my eyes and stepped into my room. I struggle not to let his words effect me. His opinion of me wont change anything anyway. My room is my sanctuary. Books lined one wall, and my closet and dresser where full of amazing clothes. I even had a desk that I turned into a vanity, for all my make up and hair products. I had an attached bathroom filled with soaps, lotion, and essential oils and bath salts. One nice benefit to living here and having the step-father I did, was the money. He was loaded. And I used my portion of money however I pleased. He didn't pay enough attention to me to really dictate one way or another what I did with it.
I flopped on my bed, and decided I needed a nap before I started my homework. I would go to the forrest later, but right now, I needed a cat nap.
YOU ARE READING
The Two Lunas
RomanceSkyler grew up as a weak Cheetah in a house of lions. He had a couple of his brothers were conceived when their mother, a Were Lion, had a one night stand with a stranger. A couple years later his mother found her mate, the King of a lion pride. He...
