Nora and I had resumed our relationship, the way normal teenagers should, without the complications of police and accusations and would often meet up with Caine, who had met this ‘amazing girl’ but was keeping her identity anonymous. Although I urgently wanted to know who she was, I respected his decision, as long as he would eventually tell me. Although I doubted he would have the time between his sporting career and new girlfriend.
Even Mel had been seeing someone, a guy that could eat just as much as she could and shared the same passion for food. Her confidence seemed to spike ever since she met him and because of her exceeding excellence in English and gossiping skills, she was offered a full scholarship to the best journalism school in the country.
As for Nora, she was still undecided about which course to study for university, so she chose a Bachelor of Arts and hoped to discover herself more once school started again. We had both submitted our references during the year and had both been accepted into the schools of our choice. We wouldn’t be attending the same university, but we’d only be forty-five minutes apart, which meant surprise dates and weekend trips would still be easy for us.
“Can you believe all this started with a pair of handcuffs?” Nora said as she lifted her head from my chest.
“I’m a Collins. We’re attracted to trouble,” I answered, grinning mischievously as I leaned in to kiss the corner of her lips but she tilted her head so instead, our lips met.
When she pulled back, she gently ran her fingers through my hair. “The complications of kissing a Collins,” she whispered.
“Some good came out of it,” I mumbled back, mesmerised by the beauty of her eyes.
“Yeah,” she agreed. “I fell in love with my best friend, graduated from high school and got into university.”
I fell in love with my best friend. The sentence stayed glued to my memory as I brushed back her hair and whispered the same statement into her ear and sealed the words with a gentle kiss below her ear. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I pulled her back against my chest.
“Not to mention, your best friend fell in love with you too.”
The End
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1
CELINA
Have you ever felt like you can never escape? Have you ever felt like there is no one there for you? Have you ever felt like the whole world is against you and you just want to get away and be free? Have you ever felt that you can never be loved or cherished?
That's my life.
I feel all of these things. You can't change what fate has in store for you. But sometimes, I wish I could just be free and live my own life. I haven't been able to do that for a total of nine years.
My mother and father died when I was seven. I was abandoned and left with my godforsaken pack. I had no regrets when my mother and father died. I spent every second of every day with them, and they never argued. We didn't have any major fights and we all loved each other so much. I didn't think my parents had any regrets either. I think they made the mistake of leaving me alone though.
You're probably wondering why I'm blaming it on them, aren't you? Well, I don't. I blame my pack for being worthless, unfair, stupid and plain right mean. Childish I know, but true, down to the last detail. Every beating, every bruise, every broken bone and every possible evidence of them abusing me supports that horrid theory.
Ever since my parents died, I've been like a slave to the people I call my pack. I cook, wash, clean, organize and pretty much do everything for them. They throw away money like it's no big deal, and they don't spare a second glance to anyone who's 'lower' than them.
Someone like me.
All the wolves in my pack are gorgeous with either brown or blonde fur and have a mix of either blue, green, brown, or almost black eyes. Having plain blue or green eyes is rare. They have slim or muscular bodies, and have the perfect height just to be much taller than humans. Unfortunately, that beauty is tainted by their bitter egos and cold hearts.
My parents were like the pack looks wise, but not personality wise. My parents were kind and thoughtful, always putting others before themselves. They never should've been in this pack in the first place.
The funny thing is, I look nothing like my parents, or anyone in the pack for that matter.
Instead of blonde or brown hair, mine is pitch black, pin straight and comes down to just below my shoulders. My eyes are a shining gold that lost its shine many years ago, so now it looks like a light shade of mud. My lips are almost red and, strangely, my skin is pale. I'm not sure why... Werewolves usually have beautifully tanned skin. I'm also a bit shorter than everyone else, but I still have that slim body that anyone would die for. In my parents' opinion, being different is what makes you special. What makes you special, is what makes you unique.
I've never believed it though. All it has ever done was got me teased, and pushed around for being ‘different’ and 'unique'. It has always been like that. Even with my parents, they always said the pack was just jealous of my obvious beauty, one that I am oblivious to.
Another thing. When I turned sixteen, I made sure I was far away from the pack house, almost on the borders of our territory. The reason? I was shifting. I didn't want to give everyone the satisfaction of seeing me in pain, and watching my every bone break after the other. I can honestly say that it is the most painful thing you will ever experience in your life.
When I shifted, I discovered that my wolf was snow white. Not one trace of color other than white covered me. I was astounded. I had never seen a white wolf. Even my mother’s and my father’s wolves were brown and blonde, respectively. They told me that when I shifted to never show to anyone my wolf, unless they have my full trust. Nobody has.
I don't know what it means to have a pure white wolf, but I know that I'm different yet again. This time, in a way, I thought I could somehow fit into my pack. I thought wrong. When I came back, I got a beating because I was gone for most of the day, and everyone missed lunch and breakfast. That night, I had to make a three-course meal instead of the usual one, and I had to clean the house until it was spotless. Let's just say I stayed up way past midnight...
I haven't been for a run since. That was three weeks ago. My wolf has been howling in my head, and it feels like she's scratching my insides apart. I badly want to let her out, but I'm too scared. I don't want to get beaten up again.
My wolf has told me multiple times to get away, and I've been considering it for months now. Tonight's the night. I'm leaving. I'm ditching this stupid place and leaving for good. When I told my wolf, she was practically jumping with joy.
I'm making the dinner right now. Although this pack has treated me like nothing, I'm gonna give them something to remember me by, and if that means food, then so be it.
I decide to make one of my favorite courses. For entree, bruschetta with mini prawn cocktails. For main, lasagna with garlic bread. Then for dessert, my personal favorite, chocolate mud cake with whipped cream, ice cream and chocolate covered strawberries on top. If it was me, I would just skip the entree and main and go straight for the dessert.
I set the table for the pack, and as soon as I finish placing the last of the entrees on the table, they walk in through the door. As soon as they get a whiff, they come barging into the dining room, taking a seat and digging in. No 'thank you' or 'this is nice', just like the usual.
I always keep a spare bit of dessert for myself after I finish cooking, so while the rest of the pack eats, I tuck into my mud cake. At least they let me eat, I guess.
When I hear the bell, I walk back out and collect the empty plates, taking them back into the kitchen. To let them digest a bit, I wash it all up and place it on the drying rack.
I come back out with the last of the mains and a
m about to walk out when Tina, the pack slut, calls my name.
"Celina!"
I slowly turn around, keeping my hands behind my back, and my head bowed. I'm wearing the correct uniform for serving dinner, and my hair is neatly pulled back into a high pony tail, so I'm not sure what she wants. Whenever someone in the pack calls my name, it's usually because I'm in trouble.
"Why the whole ‘fancy-fancy’ food? Is it a special occasion? Let me guess... Is it for Damon's birthday? A little present from you?" She snickers at me. I feel all eyes turn to me, but I obediently keep my head down. Damon is the soon to be alpha of our pack and is turning eighteen in about four days. It's a big thing and I'm supposed to cook for it...
"I guess you could consider it that. If the alpha is kind enough to accept my gift, of course," I answer in a small voice. I was told from the beginning to address Damon as alpha and nothing else, unlike the rest of the pack.
The room falls silent as every eye turns to Damon, who's sitting at the head of the very large dining table. I look through my long, black lashes to see his face. I'm met with a considering expression.
He nods his head once. "I accept your gift. I will expect a grander and more appropriate gift on my actual birthday though. Do you understand?" His tone's filled with power and authority.
"Yes, alpha, I understand," I say, returning to my former position with my head down.
"Good. Now, off you go." He shoos me off and as soon as I enter the kitchen, I hear their laughs and snickers. I will myself not to cry. I've shed too many tears over these heartless people.
They soon finish their meals and it’s time for dessert. I've finished mine by now, so I place theirs on the table with a blank face. They eat up and by the time everyone has finished and has stayed around talking, I've cleared the large table and washed up.
I enter back into the dining room, and wait in my usual spot by the door of the kitchen. Every night before I go to bed, I either get hit or nothing for the meals I've cooked. It's the same with breakfast, lunch, and any other meals they eat. As each one walks out of the room, I either get shoved or ignored. Which means they liked my cooking. Tina, on the other hand, slaps me across the face. You probably think that's harsh, but that's equivalent to someone else's shove. So just imagine what someone else's slap is to her. It's not a pretty sight.
Damon is the last to leave and he stops in front of me. I cautiously lift my head and stare into his beautiful blue-green eyes. He has a blank face, as do I. We stare at each other for a moment before he walks out and leaves me alone in the dining room to fix up.
Damon has been my crush since I was about ten, even though he treats me like the worthless thing I am. His brown hair and blue-green eyes are the main aspects that draw me and many other female wolves in. He hasn't found his mate yet either, which means he's available. He wouldn't go for me though. Not in a million years. I'm too different.
I head to bed in the early hours of the night. The pack no longer requires me after about 7:30pm, so I am ordered to bed, which I quickly oblige, so as not to get beaten. I still have bruises from the worst ones.
The sad thing is, I believe everything my pack had said since my parents died. That I'm not beautiful, but ugly. That I'm not unique, but different. That I'm not a part of their family, but their slave.
I sigh as I enter my makeshift room. It's bare, except for a large window that lets the moonlight from the full moon flood into my room. My bed is pretty much a sheet on the hard, splintered, wooden floor, and my pillow is a pillow cover stuffed with newspaper.
I won't be sleeping there tonight though. Not anymore. Not ever again.
I pack what little belongings I have into a sack. A pair of worn out jeans, an oversized shirt with holes in it, a skirt, one other shirt that appears to be clean, and a pair of socks. I don't own any shoes.
I grab the only piece of jewelry I have, my mother’s silver necklace, with her and my father's names engraved into the heart-shaped pendant. The pendant has a yin and yang symbol in it, but it's made with little black and white crystals. I slip it into my shirt and proceed to the window.
I open it wide, and without a glance back, or second thought, I jump. I jump to my freedom and my new life.
I shift into my snow white wolf and take off with my sac in my mouth. I don't know where I'm going. I don't know if I can survive. I am only a newly shifted wolf at the age of sixteen.
What I do know? I'll never have to see my 'pack' again. That is enough to make me smile slightly in my wolf form. As I cross the border of the territory, my wolf lets out a howl, filled with happiness and joy.
We're free. I'm free.
Never again will we have to face the Moonlight pack.
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A C K O W L E D G E M E N T S
There have been several people who have made this book possible. First of all, the biggest thank you to my family who have been nothing but supportive through my endless rants and out-loud brainstorming. A particular thank you to my parents, who have tolerated my indecisiveness and my constantly late appearances to dinner because I just had to write an idea down. You’re all amazing.
Thank you to Morgan who has given me infinite amounts of patience and encouragement, not only through this book but through many other messy drafts. You were there throughout my entire writing experience; fangirling, laughing and crying with me, even at two in the morning.
Thank you to Danni for being both a friend and a consultant throughout my writing experience and who probably freaked out as much as I did when I received the opportunity to publish.
Huge thanks to the BLVNP publishing team, particularly to Grace and Kristine for all their patience throughout my endless annoying questions and for being so understanding throughout this entire experience. Honestly, what would I do without you two?
Lastly, thank you to all my readers who loved the story before I did and have been nothing but encouraging. You are all my inspiration. I may have written the story, but you were the ones who made it come alive.
About the Author
Olivia Harvard is an eighteen-year-old Australian author, publishing her debut novel ‘Handcuffs, Kisses, and Awkward Situations’ in December, 2014. She started writing when she was fifteen years old on the online writing community, Wattpad. Her first completed story was fortunate to receive an award and luckily enough, it was the start of many more to come, including:
2012 Watty Award Winner, On the Rise, Humour; 2013 Watty Award Winner, Most Popular, Mystery; 2014 iParchment Best Work; Shortlisted for the Young Writer’s Short Story Competition hosted by Hot Key Books
Recently graduated from high school, she plans to attend university to complete her bachelor’s degree in Business and/or Creative Arts. Aside from being a writer, Olivia is an avid reader, full-time dreamer, and professional procrastinator. But between reading and dreaming, she has future ambitions to travel the world, own a home library (currently owns four hundred physical books), and learn a new language.
Olivia Harvard, Handcuffs, Kisses and Awkward Situations: Mystery Romance
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