~ ~ ~
The next morning, the twins were waiting for me as usual when I pulled into my usual space in the school parking lot. I knew they wanted to know what had happened at Victrixa’s. I was even wide awake for a change. I’d slept another night without phasing and I’d had two diet Cokes on the way to school. Hell, I was almost hyper.
“Hey, Maya!” Lyssa caught up with me, walking at her usual double-time pace.
“What’s up, you guys?” I asked, as if I didn’t know.
“Oh, please, just spill,” said Damian as we walked through the front doors.
“Well, Victrixa seems pretty cool,” I said. “Turns out, she doesn’t know why my mark is different, either. But she did say that most shifters need a mentor to help them learn to phase. So I have to see her on Sundays for a while, I guess.”
It happened so fast. We were walking down the hall, and Brett Nielson came charging over and slammed Damian against the lockers. Hard.
“Faggot!” he spat.
“Hey!” Alyssa yelled.
“What the hell’s your problem?” Matt appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. He gave Brett a huge shove back to the other side of the hallway. Thankfully, they were well matched in size, and Brett walked away without a fight.
“Are you okay, Damian?” Matt asked, helping Lyssa pick up him up off the floor.
“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” Damian mumbled, looking very rattled and embarrassed. God, I hated seeing him like that.
“I’ll see you at lunch, My,” Matt said, and he headed for his locker.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” I asked. (Seriously, I can’t stand homophobes. What is their deal? Bigotry just sucks, end of story.)
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
“New day, same bullshit,” Lyssa said.
“I’m gonna be late,” Damian said. “I’ll see you guys at lunch.”
“That just sucks,” I said, as Lyssa and I took our books out of our lockers. She and I had really lucked out this year. We only had one locker between ours. Damian was way around the corner from us.
“Yeah, it’s a good thing Matt came along, or I would have taken a piece outta Brett’s sad behind.”
Somehow I didn’t doubt that. We started to walk to first period.
As we sat in our seats, Lyssa turned to me. “I know you’ve been having issues with the change in the Matt situation….”
“Uh, he’s the star quarterback, Lyss, he’s not married.”
“You know what I mean, wiseass. You’ve been stressing about his priorities, right? What we just saw in the hall looks like the old Matt to me.”
“Well, he likes Damian. He always has.”
“Oh, come on, Maya, you cannot be that blind! Yes, he and Damian are friends, but he did that for you.”
“What d’ya mean?”
“Oh, please, that boy is in love with you. Tell me you don’t know that,” she said, raising an eyebrow at me. (I’ve always wanted to be able to do that. Raise one eyebrow.)
“I wouldn’t go that far. Look, I’m figuring it out,” I said.
“Well, I wouldn’t waste too much time figuring. You’ve got one of the good ones. Don’t blow it.”
The rest of the day went smoother from then on. After school, I made a brief appearance at Matt’s football practice so he wouldn’t think helping Damian this morning had gone unnoticed. I actually ended up kind of enjoying practice, even though I don’t know a thing about football. But I could tell enough to know that Matt was good, really good. Even though he had only just made varsity in his senior year (he hadn’t had much interest until then), I had no doubt that he could manage a scholarship to the University of New Mexico if he still wanted to go there. He had applied to several schools, not all of which were local. I think that was a big part of the reason why my heart couldn’t quite commit. I wanted to, I really, really did. But something inside me always seemed to hold me back. One thing was for sure, Lyssa was right when she said he wouldn’t wait forever. But how would he feel about being with a shifter anyway?
That night I finished my homework and studied for my history quiz, then cleaned the bathroom and vacuumed. (Ah, the joys of single-parent households.) Dad was at a conference in Denver for a few days, so I figured it would be a good time to work on my homework for Victrixa. I grabbed a small notebook from my desk and got started. But as I looked back through my writing, I couldn’t seem to come up with anything specific. I checked the clock. It was 9:10. Not too late to call Grandma for some help.
“Is everything all right?” she asked after she said hello.
“I’m sorry. I guess it is a little late. Did I wake you?”
“Oh, no. I just finished up in the darkroom. What’s going on?”
“Not much. Actually, I’m having a little trouble with the homework Victrixa asked me to do,” I said.
“How can I help?”
“Well, she asked me to write down what I could remember from my dreams so I could maybe come up with my trigger for phasing. I can’t seem to come up with anything.”
“Remembering your dreams takes a lot of practice, ts’unu’un. I do have a suggestion, though. Do you have any lemon juice in the house?”
“I think so.”
“Good. Drink a glass of warm water with about a tablespoon of lemon juice a little while before bed. That should help.”
“Thanks so much, Grandma.”
“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Sleep well. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Right after I hung up the phone, I went downstairs and found the lemon juice in the baking cabinet. (I’m a regular Gordon Ramsey!) I drank it in some warm water as Grandma had suggested and hoped that it would help me remember my dreams better.