bittersweet green apples, rejection, and the mediocre life of a human

Chapter 1

I honestly wasn't thinking about much for once, allowing waves of electronica to wash over me, carrying my mind away to a magical dancefloor where neither my shitty airways nor awkwardness would bother me and I could dance the night away, showing off the moves I practiced in my roomy basement before moving out here.

Here.

New York City, with its gray buildings and gray-er skies, trademark brash attitudes, and air pollution so bad I need a nebulizer every other week.

Fuck. Maybe I was thinking about much. Actually, it totally wasn't my music that had me so out of it that I had just realized I was two stops past - it was my overabundant thoughts. I've always been a little bit different, the longing for romance and adventure weren't quite typical for a skitter-brained human like me. Most of us were so docile and mild, especially compared to Werewolves. It wasn't easy in a world like this when your species was known for being "the most average." Werewolves were much more likely to long for romance and adventure, but I definitely wasn't a werewolf. Between my shit health, average body, and slow reactions, I wasn't even near the top of a human's physical condition. A couple years ago, maybe, before I'd stopped working out because I was a lazy piece of shit... and maybe a little because my health sucked here in New York, too.

I wished I was a werewolf sometimes; I loved long walks in the rain, and I loved the smell of the woods right after. I wasn't fond of bugs or most of the rest of the outdoors the way a werewolf would be, in fact, I was kind of terrified by most insects, but hey, you can't win 'em all. I've always believed in love. True love, the kind of love a werewolf, vampire, or elf will get handed to them magically through the mating process, no questions asked. I wanted to dream of being whisked off by a soul mate, but deep down I knew those types of things were for people who were special, usually not even humans at all. So, instead of being hopeful, I mostly just hated them for being given what someone like me would probably never experience... but goddamn if I didn't want to.

I still wasn't sure if my human ex Jake was my soulmate, and I wouldn't have another. Two humans could end up with their soulmate as easily as ending up with someone else, we can't feel the pull or establish bonds. Finding out that he'd wanted nothing to do with me after his brain trauma was wrenching, but I probably shouldn't have gotten my hopes up that someone that beautiful actually wanted me. But I always couldn't quite outrun the idea that something had felt a tiny bit off, even before he'd been stupid enough for that motorcycle ride without a helmet - and I couldn't escape the tiniest shred of hope that maybe I was special despite being so fucking moderately-below-average. Then again, that idea is completely a placebo of want - humans can't feel the pull at all. We really are the shittiest, most average-est species.

Exiting the bus into the nonchalant Wednesday air before I could get tangled in too much thinking again, I resigned myself to the overly long walk back toward my tiny dorm where the best thing that ever happened to me, my computer, waited. The city might be able to take away my health, my driving, my rainy woods, my privacy to dance, and my space to sing alone, but that's the one thing it couldn't steal. Because I was mostly resigned to my shitty hand, I was ok with my singular high card - the sheer joy I got from the internet. I didn't watch Weresports much or keep up with the hottest elf singers or vampire models, I just played games with my relatively small number of online friends and it was enough for me. Oh, and sometimes did my schoolwork too.

"Mate," a deep and powerful voice radiated through my body, and I stopped in my tracks. There was no way this could be happening, I can't possibly be this lucky. "Turn around, I love short girls like you, I can't wait to see the face of my beautiful mate." My heart sank through my shoes like drain cleaner swirling down my dorm sink, and I knew before he grabbed my shoulders and spun me around that he was going to be disappointed.

I wasn't disappointed though. As shit as his luck was for getting a below average, plain looking dude who was even further below average in the height department, I guess I'd just won the powerball. For the fifth week in a row. I was staring back, or rather, up into the alpha red eyes of a man with a nearly seven foot stature and a massive build that would make a bodybuilder jealous. His dirty blonde mohawk had red highlights that made me unable to concentrate on even figuring out what he was wearing, but I'm sure it wouldn't have mattered. I wouldn't need a pull to ever want this guy, but he sure as hell needed it for my average ass.

But I guess, from the way his face contorted, that pull wasn't strong enough to overcome the shove of my wildly-below-his-league self. Each wrinkle of displaced flesh was like being stabbed over and over, until his ridiculously handsome face was nearly unrecognizable. His whole body tensed, and I shut down and froze like an embarrassment popsicle. As the moment ticked by, my head kicked into overdrive and I started realizing what all of this meant, or would have, if he hadn't taken a step back and laughed incredulously, "You've got to be fucking kidding me. I'm sorry, but I just won't accept this." Before I managed to reboot, he took off and disappeared into the herds of pedestrians. Instead of the momentary interaction feeling unreal, it just felt ominous, sort of like how I feel walking through the woods at home in the rain, but with an awful chill instead of a warm mystique.

My head finally began working again, and the weight of what just happened crashed down on me. That was my soulmate, my other half, and he had laughed at me. Fuck, I was so pathetic that even being lucky enough to be mated couldn't save me from my fate of a lonely deathbed.