The Lunar Chronicles: Next Generation--Rosemary

Chapter 2--The Beast Found Within

Hello, Lunars! I don't know when I'll be able to update next (probably on the weekends), but please, enjoy this chapter.

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"Bonjour, Gaston!" Rosemary's voice rang out in the open alley way. "I'd love to stop and chat, but I have to get home, and--"

"Oh, nonsense," Gaston incredulously dismissed Rosemary's excuses. She racked her brain for something witty to say, something that would get her out of there but that wouldn't offend Gaston. With all of his social media power, he could be a dangerous enemy to make--people looked down at her as it was, she didn't need an angry mob coming to her front door, too.

She tried for a smile. "No, really, Gaston. I'm already late to dinner, and my dad's a beast when he's hungry--"

"Oh, mon cherie, you really are just too naïve. Everybody in town knows that although your father may look scary, but dear old dad is  just a softie on the inside. He'd never do anything--never even stand up to anybody, even if they punched him right in the nose--sorry, snout." A haughty chuckle met Rosemary's ears. 

She closed a defiant fist around the strap of her satchel, feeling her hackles rise even as she lifted her chin. She felt anger, hot in her stomach, and she wanted to lunge at him, like her mother might've. She opened her mouth, ready to spit out a witty retort, complete with a literary reference and an insult to his father, neither of which he would understand-- but she promptly shut her mouth again, remembering her father's words.

  Don't give in to your anger. Control your temper. There is a power in not reacting. Your strong spirit might help you later, but you don't need it now-- you're a fighter, just like me and your mother. I can tell, he had told her when she was very small, still a pup, upset after her neighbors' taunting comments about her freakishly large paws. She had grudgingly listened to him, and after time after time of ignoring such comments, she had almost forgotten that she had a temper at all. Almost--

But then this le fou had to come and insult not just her, but insult her father, too. Her family. Her entire pack. Snout? Seriously? She wouldn't stand for such an insult-- but she shouldn't do anything reckless. She would only humiliate all hybrids by succumbing to others' expectations of single-mindedness in acts of rashly attacking, attack, attack--which was exactly what her instincts were at her. Internally howling in agony, she ignored them. She glared at Gaston icily, with a degree of level-headed, feigned calmness.

"Gaston." She heard her voice, hard and forced and detached from her feelings. "I'm going home. My parents need me at the farm. A storm is coming. I am leaving to help my p--" Rosemary almost let the word pack slip out--"I mean, my family get the androids out of the way.." As if on cue, thunder crashed in the distance, lightning flashing, wind whistling, as the dark clouds advanced in the blue sky.

"Oh, yes, I can see now too. It really is extraordinary how you could tell before it started--your freaky sixth animal sense really is quite...amazing," he remarked, even as he wrinkled his nose. Thinly bailed distaste filled his voice as he continued, clueless to the simmering rage she felt. "Your family surely will have felt the storm coming as well-- I'm sure they can handle your little farm as well. Come, let me take you inside--I am the nephew of Gilles, didn't you know?--and I can get us some food on the house while we admire my holographic trophies--"

Rosemary couldn't stand it anymore. Her blood boiled. Her cheeks flamed. Sorry, Papa, she thought as she cut Gaston off. 

"Freaky sixth animal sense? How dare you--you insult hybrids anywhere! And little farm? I'll have you know that Benoit Farms and Gardens is the sole provider of Gilles's tavern-- I can eat plenty of the wonderful food we grow by going to help the crops survive the storm-- plus it won't be in the wilted state this place keeps it in. And your trophies? Forget it. Everybody knows that you got your best marksmanship awards by practicing poaching." Rosemary spat the word off her tongue. She considered marching inside the tavern and collecting the shipment of tomatoes she had dropped off previously, breaking the juicy skin of every single one on Gaston's brainless head--