It was ten at night on Saturday when we drove out. Just Cedric, my father, and I, packed into my dad's black convertible. The drive wasn't long, maybe fifteen minutes, and it brought us to a forest mildly similar to our own.
The moment I stepped out of the car, I hated it. I felt the sensation I got whenever Mason walked into a room, except multiplied by fifty.
Oh god, Mason.
We'd kissed. Mason and I had full on made out on Marcella's bedroom floor. His girlfriend, Marcella.
I regretted it with every fiber of my being. I regretted for every reason I could.
I regretted it because he was a guy. I wasn't gay, or bi, or pan, or bi curious, or heteroflexible, or anything close. I was straight.
I regretted it because he was Mason. Fucking Mason. I hated the dude, and one kiss wasn't going to change that. Nothing was going to change that.
But mostly, I regretted it because of Cella. She was my best friend, my only friend, and I'd gone and made out with her boyfriend.
I wished I could say that he forced himself on me, that it wasn't consensual. But it was nothing close to harassment. I'd kissed him back with as much fervor as he'd kissed me. I'd liked it.
I wanted to do it again.
And that was what was really tearing me apart. Everything would be so much simpler if I could just say that, looking back on it, I was disgusted. Revolted, even. But if I wanted to do it again, did I even really regret it?
I wanted to truly regret it. I needed to truly regret it. Cella deserved that much.
But I couldn't forget how his lips had felt against mine, and I certainly couldn't stop wanting to feel that again.
I was in deep shit, man.
The main difference between this forest and the one where our house stood was that the trees weren't quite as tall and thick here. I could actually see the moon and the stars in the night sky here, and they cast enough light for me to take in the appearances of the five tall men waiting just a few yards away.
I recognized one of their faces as Mason's.
I couldn't say I was surprised. I'd been putting the pieces together since yesterday, when he got upset with me for saying he couldn't work with a team. Honestly, I probably should've put the pieces together a while ago.
The odd sensation that I was biologically engineered to dislike him was my first hint.
My second hint was that he got all triggered when I said I couldn't work with him that first night we had to do the project. He'd gone on some rant about me not knowing a thing about teamwork. A wolf pack was built around teamwork. Duh.
My third hint was his strength. No mortal his size should've been able to stop me by grabbing my wrist, even after I resisted. That should've at least told me that he wasn't human, but apparently I'm stupid.
My fourth hint was that his blood was so alluring to me. It was a common knowledge in the vampire community was that supernatural blood was several times better than the any human blood, and extremely appealing. Werewolves and mermaids especially—their blood could keep one of us full for a week. And it tasted great.
Not that I'd really know, I'd never had it.
My fifth hint was that he'd showed up at school at the same time that a werewolf pack moved in nearby. Seriously, how did I not get that?
Then there was our fight, which was pretty much a continuation of hint number three. Plus yesterday, when he got all mad when at what I said, was more of hint number two. There were probably a billion other hints as well.
It was a slow week, alright?
Mason and I locked eyes. He didn't seem to be shocked to see me either. Judging be the high collar of his shirt, he'd found my little...gift.
Greetings were exchanged, though it all seemed very formal. When Cedric had to shake each of their hands, he looked like he wanted nothing more than to break their wrists. And when I had to shake everyone's hands, when I came to Mason, it had to be the most awkward encounter I'd ever experienced.
"We need to talk," he said lowly so only I could hear. Or maybe I wasn't the only one who could hear—werewolves had even sharper senses than vampires.
Throughout the entire course of the meeting, I wished to be anywhere but there. It just felt uncomfortable. I was a vampire. Standing only a few feet away from me were five werewolves. Somewhere not too much farther into the forest, there was a house full of werewolves. Just standing there made me want to punch a tree. Or a wolf. Either works, really.
I had to admit, I tuned out while the adults talked. They were just saying mundane old things, establishing ground rules and peace. It was straight up boring.
I found it much more interesting to observe Cedric. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see every twitch of his jaw. He kept clenching and unclenching his fists, and I wondered just how much he wanted to attack.
Probably a lot.
The meeting only lasted about thirty minutes, but it felt like an hour. All I did was stand there and nod as if I were listening—why did I even have to come to this thing?
As soon as the meeting was over, Cedric hightailed it out of there. I almost laughed—he literally didn't waste a second. I had a feeling that he knew if he didn't leave, he'd probably punch someone. Then he'd lose his spot as chief, god forbid.
My father continued talking to the alpha—they got along surprisingly well after the formality was dropped. It was kind of weird. I caught Mason's eye and he nodded his head to the side, indicating that I follow him. Reluctantly, I told my father I'd be right back slipped away behind Mason. If I were Cedric, my father would've stopped me. He knew that I wasn't as radical as my brother, though, and he trusted me on my own with a wolf.
Mason wasted no time getting straight to the point when we were out of war shot. Which was really far from the others, by the way. It's so hard to be "out of earshot" when it comes to supernatural beings.
"You didn't tell me you were a vampire!" He hissed. Despite having walked for a solid five minutes away from his father and brothers, his tone was still hushed.
"My bad," I said sarcastically, "I usually share that little detail with everyone I meet. And you can't talk—you never mentioned being a werewolf."
"You tried to kill me!" He snarled, taking a threatening step forward.
"No I didn't!" I protested. "Why would you think—"
Mason yanked down the collar of his shirt, revealing two tiny marks on his neck. Bite marks. "What, so this was just a love bite?"
"Mason, it wasn't like that—"
"Really?" Anger sparked in his eyes. "Because you can't turn me, Kieran, so what else could you have been trying to do?"
"I wasn't trying to do anything!" I whisper-yelled. "It was an accident!" I didn't know why I was even explaining myself to him; I had no reason to. Usually I'd love to see him angry like this.
But not now. Now I found myself feeling like I didn't want him to be angry with me, and that scared the shit out of me.
"I swear, I didn't even notice when my fangs came out," I explained quickly. "That's why I pulled away so fast when I realized...when I realized I was biting you."
Mason's gaze softened, and he said, "Oh." Then he took a step closer, closing pretty much all of the distance between us. I had to look up at him, only a little, to meet his eyes. His gaze soon left mine, however, and traveled down to my lips. "Well in that case..."
Then he was leaning in. He was going to kiss me. And I was going to let him.
What the fuck, Kieran?
Right when our lips brushed, the image of my blonde best friend appeared in my head, and I abruptly pulled away. "No," I said shakily.
Surprise was evident on Mason's face. "What?"
"No," I repeated, more firmly this time. "This can't happen. It won't."
I was surprised to see hurt flash in Mason's eyes. "Can I...can I ask why not?"
"Mason, I..." I struggled to find my words. "I don't like you."
Wow. Not what I meant to say. But it had the desired effect, as Mason took a step back.
Then I remembered; I really didn't like Mason. I fucking hated him. He was the cause of pretty much all of my problems, and I'd known him less than a week. So why was it so hard to say so, when it was the truth?
Seriously, what the fuck, Kieran?
"Right," Mason's voice was cold. "So when you kissed me yesterday, was that supposed to be equivalent to punching me in the face, I'm guessing."
"You kissed me," I corrected.
"Are you saying you didn't kiss me back? Because I'm pretty sure you did," he countered.
"Look, Mason," I put my hands up defensively, "I don't know what to tell you. I've told you already, I don't like you. That hasn't changed. Yesterday...yesterday didn't happen."
"That's the thing!" Mason said exasperatedly. "It did! And would it really be so bad if it happened again?"
"Yes!" I exclaimed, not caring who heard me. "Mason, I'm not into dudes like that!"
This time, Mason faltered. "You...you said you were gay," he said lowly.
"I lied." I was finding that the blunt, pretend-I-don't-give-a-shit-approach was working pretty well. If I ignored my head spinning at the mere thought of doing that with Mason again, I could keep control of the situation. And control was everything.
"Why..." Mason's eyes were wide, and he suddenly looked nervous. "Why would you do that?"
"To teach you a lesson for thinking you could get my best friend to betray me," I snapped. "Speaking of my best friend, your girlfriend, what about her? Already gonna break up with her?"
Mason crossed his arms over his chest. "Why would I break up with her?"
I stared at him disbelievingly for a long moment. "Are you...serious? Mason, you cheated on her!"
"Yeah?" Mason's face was fixed into a scowl. "I thought you said the kiss never happened?"
"That's not—ugh!" I groaned, frustrated with him for twisting my words around like that. "Why did you even kiss me?"
This had Mason fall silent. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights, and stumbled over his words as if he had a speech impediment. "You're seriously not gay?" He asked after a minute, completely changing the subject.
"I'm not."
"You're bi, though."
"No, Mason, I'm straight. I told you, I don't like guys."
"Dude, you kissed me back!"
"I—" I struggled to find a response. "It was a one time thing. It didn't happen."
I couldn't read the expression in Mason's eyes. I could feel my body trying to pull me closer, telling me to just go for it. It was almost as if, after the switch flipped yesterday and I was so painfully attracted to Mason, it hadn't flipped back. I seriously needed it to flip back.
I couldn't be attracted to Mason. That wasn't supposed to happen.
"I won't tell anyone," I said quietly. Mason tilted his head questioningly. "That you're gay, or bi, or whatever you are. I may be a douche, and I may hate you with all of my heart, but I wouldn't stoop as low as to out someone. Not even you."
Most of that was true. I wouldn't tell anyone, not even Marcella. It wasn't my business to tell. The only part that wasn't true was the part where I said I hated him. Which really pissed me off, because up until yesterday, I was sure I loathed him. It wasn't like I'd kind of hated him, kind of liked him. No, I'd full on despised him, then all of sudden after one kiss my brain is like Nope you're into him now!!! Have fun!!! :))))
"Well, thanks for that," Mason flashed me a sad smile.
I turned without another word and began retreating back to where my father was waiting. Mason stayed behind. I stopped when I'd walked a few meters and, without turning back around, said, "But you need to tell Cella."
***
I didn't get a wink of sleep last night. Or the night before. Good thing I didn't really need it, because I spent the hours tossing and turning, thinking.
No, I wasn't thinking about Mason; my life wasn't that cliche. Okay, maybe a little, but not about Mason himself, just about the situation. Most of my thoughts were concerning Marcella.
Who am I kidding? I spent the nights thinking about Mason fucking Kane. Thinking about the kiss, my first kiss with a guy and probably the best kiss I'd ever had.
The strange thing was, I wasn't even really concerned with the fact that Mason was a dude anymore. Yeah, it freaked me out at first. The thought that I could be bi or even gay scared the shit out of me.
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it sort of didn't matter. Who cared if I was gay, or bi? My family sure wouldn't, they had better things to worry about, and it wasn't like I cared what strangers thought of me.
That wasn't the relieving part, though. The relieving part was that I wasn't necessarily gay to begin with. Just because I'd enjoyed one kiss with a guy didn't mean I suddenly needed to question my sexuality. I still didn't see boys any differently. Well, most boys.
In my opinion, sexuality could be fluid. Someone can fall for a person without necessarily being specifically attracted to their gender, if that made any sense. Not that I was falling for Mason or anything. That would be gross.
So, yeah, the whole sexuality thing wasn't really stressing me out anymore. What was stressing me out was the fact that it was Mason Kane who had me second guessing myself in the first place, for several reasons.
First off, I simply didn't like the guy. I didn't like his personality, I didn't like his friends, I didn't like him.
Second, he was dating my best friend. As much as I hated the idea of their relationship, I would never want to ruin it. I couldn't do that to Marcella. Though, if Mason came clean, which he'd better or I'd beat him to a pulp, their relationship would probably be over quickly anyways.
The third reason, and possibly the biggest, I'd only just realized while laying in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. Even if Mason and I were totally in love—which we're not—we could never be together. I was a vampire, he was a werewolf. The two just didn't mix, simple as that. And if Cedric ever got a hold of the fact that Mason and I had kissed, even if it didn't mean anything, I'd be dead.
Like, more dead than I already am. Which is, like, really dead.
So yeah, this Mason thing needed to end. I wasn't sure how, but it did.