Chapter 39: Recognition

Dominic

Welp. Turns out that Evan doesn’t just look the part. He’s like a frickin surfing god, his blond hair blowing in the breeze, standing on his board, balancing with ease, catching the sweet waves that roll up and down the shoreline here. I’m tempted to accuse him of lying about never having done this before.

I’m not a bad surfer, considering that I’ve only done it a few times, but I’m nothing compared to him. I pop up to catch a wave that is just starting to swell, but it amounts to nothing and I tumble off into the water. When I get my head back up over the surface, I see Evan whiz past me, effortless and graceful, riding his board along a beautiful wave just like a pro.

It’s very impressive. I’m jealous. Well, it’s fair, I think he’s been jealous of me over Amelia. Between my beautiful mate and an inborn surfing ability, I’ve definitely got the better deal.

I think I’ve had about enough getting tossed into the ocean for one morning. I’m enjoying myself, but I don’t have all day. Amelia might be wanting me to pick her up soon. I grab hold of the leash and start wading towards the shore, towing the board behind me.

Just as I am leaving the water I feel surprised. It surprises me. I look around, wondering what that was. I don’t see anything particularly unusual, other than a brand-new surfer looking like he’s about to win a pro surfing competition.

Huh.

I tug the board up to where we’ve left our stuff on the beach, bags and towels sitting on some beach chairs. I dry off my hands enough to pull my phone out of my backpack. No texts from Amelia yet. It’s been nearly three hours since I left her. I need to start heading back.

Theo comes up out of the water and joins me, grabbing a bottle of water and taking a swig. He gulps it down, then waves the bottle in the direction of Evan. “Wild, huh?” he says.

“No kidding. Looks like he was born to do this,” I reply.

“You going?” he asks.

“Yeah, Amelia’s probably going to be done soon, I want to head back. I’ll leave this wetsuit up next to your car, okay?”

“Sure. Uh, what about the sporting goods store?”

Oh, right. “Um, want us to meet you there in a couple of hours?”

“Maybe. I’ll text you in a while. Not sure how long it is going to take to drag Evan back out of the water.”

Ha!

I grab my bag, a towel hanging around my shoulders, and start walking back up to the car. I’m looking at the sand, remembering hunting for shells when I used to come to the beach with my parents. Just as I think of it, I see an unusual shell, and lean down to pick it up.

It’s brown and shiny, a couple of inches long, shaped a little bit like a small football. I turn it over to look for chips, and see that it is totally intact. One side is just a very smooth oval, and on the other side two edges come together lengthwise, leaving just a little slot leading into the inside of the shell. Looks almost like a long mouth. I turn it back over. This is really pretty.

I’m totally going to give this to Amelia, I decide. In fact, tomorrow is Christmas, right? I’ll give it to her as a Christmas present!

Suddenly I feel weirdly sad. So much that it makes me stop walking. The idea of spending Christmas here, with Amelia instead of my family, makes me…. Wait. No it doesn’t. I’m thrilled to be spending Christmas here, not a bit sad. WTF? Why on earth am I getting all emotional about it?

Then I think I realize what just happened. I think it’s Amelia. I’m sensing her feelings, from all the way down here. She was surprised, and then sad? What is wrong?

I stuff the shell in my bag and get my phone back out, and send her a text. I don’t want to go all overbearing boyfriend on her, so I just type, “How’s it going?” rather than demanding to know if anything is wrong.

In a second, I get the response, “Fine.”

Um.

“I’m heading up there soon,” I text back to her. “Be there in about half an hour.”

“OK,” is the response.

Am I imagining things? Did I really sense those feelings, coming from some source outside of myself? I type, “Are you finished?”

There is a longer pause, then I get a text that says, “I’m having lunch with a friend. See you soon.” Then a row of heart emojis.

I stare at the string of text messages. It all looks normal, like there is nothing to worry about. So why do I have this feeling like there is something to worry about?

Amelia

I look back up from my phone. I tell Corinne, “My ride will be here in half an hour.” She is still waiting for my answer, about whether she might be able to join our pack, but I don’t see how that is possible, and I have no idea what to tell her. “Let’s have some lunch while we’re waiting, all right?”

She bites her lip and nods. I think she can tell I am stalling.

She waits at the table while I go to the counter to order some soup and sandwiches. I throw some chips and cookies into the order. Who knows when was the last time that she had a decent meal.

I come back to her and put the little sign on the table with our order number, so they’ll know where to bring our food when it’s ready. I still don’t know how to answer her question, so instead I ask her, “Where have you been staying? Since you left…?”

She shrugs. “Just in the trees. There’s a pretty forest near the school,” she says.

“Yeah, I know, I love that forest.” I lower my voice. “I guess you can stay warm enough at night, by just shifting?”

She shakes her head slightly, and I’m not sure what she means. If I had to sleep outside I would definitely shift. My wolf would be comfortable enough curled up on the ground and covered with fur.

Our food arrives, and we don’t talk about that any more. She eats ravenously, and I think I’m right, I’ll bet she hasn’t had any good meals lately. Halfway through her sandwich, she slows down enough to ask, “You don’t think your pack will let me in, do you?”

I sigh. “I’ve never heard of that happening. Maybe I can look into it? Do some research into pack records, see if there is some procedure? I don’t know, maybe there’s an application or something you can fill out?”

She looks at me incredulously. “Like, paperwork?”

“Well, I don’t know! I‘ve never heard of such a thing. All I can do is look.”

My phone chirps, and I look down. “I’m here,” Dominic has texted. “Where R U?”

I text him the name of the cafe. “My ride is here,” I tell Corinne. “How can I get hold of you? If I find anything out that might help?”

She looks around. “Um, I don’t have a phone or anything. I’ll probably stay around Arcata for a while though.”

I guess I’ll have to come here and look for her if I have news? I’m trying to think of some way to arrange a meeting spot, when I see Dominic through the window, walking towards the cafe, tall, dark and handsome. My heart just sings to see him. Even though I haven’t been focusing on our relationship this morning, he is constantly in the background of my thoughts, and I am so happy to see him again.

Corinne must see my face light up, because she turns around to see what I am looking at, just as Dominic is coming in through the door. I am confused, because I see her tense up. She is facing away from me so I can’t see her expression. But when I look up at Dominic, I am shocked at what I see on his face.

He is staring at Corinne, and there is a look of recognition, and outrage, and even fury on his features.

What is going on?

He immediately starts striding over to our table, his hand reaching out as though to grab her. I have no idea what is about to happen, but before I can do another thing, she has leapt to her feet, dodged around him, and bolted out the door of the cafe.