Mated to a Human

☽ 14 ☾

Three days have passed since Harvey told me we're mates, but, most of the time, I haven't been thinking about it. I've been with Harper.

Whenever I'm not at work or doing a college assignment, and whenever she isn't at school or doing homework, we hang out together. We get coffee or lunch, or we watch TV in her room, and yesterday we decided to carve jack-o'-lanterns even though the pumpkins probably won't make it to Halloween.

She often talks about Delsin. I don't have to outright ask her about him to know she really likes him. They have plans next weekend, yet all I do is smile while she gets giddy talking about it because I can't decide whether to interfere; it's not like I know how to explain why Delsin isn't trustworthy, anyway.

Harper goes to bed early because of school, so I spend the rest of my nights in my room whether I'm doing school work, reading, scrolling on my phone, or tidying things up.

When I do think about Harvey, it's before bed. I can't distract myself when I'm alone, lying in between my sheets, staring at the ceiling. There's no Harper or page or screen to delay my thoughts — only my own black-hole head. I toss and turn, anxious about time and how long I can wait before seeing him again. I don't want to wait too long, but the confidence I need to approach him again isn't coming.

Thursday morning Harper and Perry are at school, Dad is at work, Mom is at the society, and there isn't a shift for me at Blue Moon. My class portal is barren — all current assignments turned in — so I go out back to check on my garden, and I see the gate to the forest is open again. Deep down, I know it's Harvey.

The herbs I'm growing are succumbing to the cold season, and there isn't much to do about it. I clean up the garden bed, and then I'll leave it alone for the rest of winter. In the spring, I'll dig out the dead bits and start new, maybe with vegetables — easy ones. I wash off my hands inside after picking fallen leaves and debris out of the dirt. I dry my hands on a hand towel and then face the room.

Harvey is always working on Norwood House. I should go and get the first talk over with — no more procrastinating or chickening out. There are things I already know I want to say: I'm not upset or angry, I'm surprised and confused about why this has happened, why are we mated even though I'm not a werewolf, and, if he doesn't know why, what does he want to about it.

While lying in bed alone, I've concluded that Harvey might want to reject me, and maybe he wants to convince me to reject him too — a mutual rejection, as Abby mentioned. I don't know how I feel about this possibility, only that it makes me somewhat sad. But matehood is something that doesn't belong to me, so how can I protest if they want to take it back?

I swipe my keys off the counter island and head for the foyer. Whatever shoes or jacket I left by the door will have to do, so I throw it all on, lock the house, and hurry to my car. I have to rush because I want to get there before I change my mind, and it's easy to talk myself out of something that scares me.

It's cold, but the streets aren't icy yet. With forced focus, I inch a toe over the speed limit — since I started driving, I don't like to take these liberties, even if everyone else says it's okay — luckily, there aren't many people on the road. I shave off a minute or two from the ride and turn on to Aubrey believing it's too late to cower away. However, this time when I come up the gravel drive, Harvey isn't outside waiting for me, so I park where I have before and urge myself out of my car. I hold my jacket closed and dart to the front door.

The bronze-plated doorbell glares at me. Holding my breath, I press it and hear the regal chime ring throughout the inside of the house. I wait with my hands strangling one another, and when the door handles clamors, and the door opens, I bite down. But it isn't Harvey. Cory, the boy who was with Delsin, answers with another guy I recognize from around town. My throat dries.