The girl who saves werewolves

6. A Broken Boy

This ladies and gentlemen is the best mother-effin advice you will ever get in your lifetime. Write it down. Trust me, you're going to need it.

When you do something stupid, don't face it. Just avoid it - as your life depends on it. If it - or he, tries to... I don't know... call you, text you... send smoke signals, don't answer. If it - or he, tries to talk to you, lose your ability to understand languages. And make sure you wear shoes, that allow you to run if it - or he, happens to walk nearby.

For days I lived by that sacred rule as if it was the eleventh commandment Moses just had forgotten to write on his stone tablets.

Eventually, it started to work. After a week, I only had to endure his puppy eyes begging for something. After the second week, they didn't beg anymore. Few more days, and I didn't exist anymore.

That was a good thing.

Really, a good thing.

It was just a stupid mistake. It hadn't meant anything. Because if it had meant something, I would not not exist. 

But seriously, how dared he! He kissed me and let me kiss him and then I was nothing to him. What a douche!

Anyways, it was a good thing. 

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A Friday night shift was about to start. I parked behind the restaurant because there were always free spots. Unfornutaly there was no back door in my mom's restaurant, so I had to walk around the building. Before I could see, I heard a heated conversation behind the corner. I should have stopped and hide behind the corner, but I was not in the mood of "why are you late?" sermon from my mom.

I kept my head down, hoping not to interrupt whoever were fighting. They didn't seem to notice me, because they kept on arguing. I walked closer, eyes on the pavement.

"Do you understand me?" I heard a middle-aged woman dun. 

I should have stayed behind the corner; the middle-aged woman was arguing with Alexander Montgomery. She was his mother.

I should have turned around, but I heard her next words.

"You cannot be that stupid. What am I suppose to tell my friends, huh? I'm ashamed of you Alexander."

Shit! Is there any way to disappear before they notice me? I thought.

"You can tell them what you've always thought of me! I have never been anything but a disappointment to you," Alexander spat out. He was out of breath.

And as he turned around to storm away from his mother, he noticed me and I noticed his chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes widened, as he realized I had heard them. Those few seconds we looked into each other's eyes felt strangely long. I witnessed how the familiar puppy-eyed yearning transformed into embarrassment and finally into nothing. He walked past me and I was nothing but air to him.

His mother turned on her heels and she walked away to her car parked right in front of the restaurant. Before she climbed in, she glanced where her son had walked. Alexander was long gone. Her eyes landed on me. She frowned as if she didn't know what to think of me and me hearing the argument. And trust me, the feeling was mutual. As I studied the woman, I noticed there was nothing soft about her. She was tall and skinny. Even the fabric of her clothes didn't look soft, as if someone had molded a steel armor in the shape of a sheath dress.

As she drove away, I couldn't help it.  "Bitch," I muttered

I had a first-hand experience of her son's idiocy, but a mother should not talk like that. Something in me felt it wasn't the first time. And that something told me Alexander the Great was a broken boy. Broken things tend to cut people around them.

That night I didn't know, I wouldn't see that boy for a long time. That night he hopped on a bus and left everything behind. I wondered whether his words in my yearbook were true. Or were they just chicken scratch.