Petersville: The Diary of the First Werewolf

Homecoming Blues

JS Marie

All Rights Reserved. 2015©

The strong sway of pancakes catches my nose off guard. I lazily descend the stairs, hair clinging to my forehead, giving a bed head that stitches over my scalp. I gulp with an agonizing hunger creeping into my gut. A slight curiosity crosses my mind; mom never cooks pancakes on Fridays. That endeavor is only reserved for Sundays.

I enter the kitchen just in time to see a cake flipping in mid-air. Holding the pan in his strong hands, Jason glances up from the stove at my entrance. My eyes grow in surprise as his wide smile forces my heart to skip a beat. I swear he has to be the most handsome man in the world. I casually take a seat at the table.

He finishes fixing a plate and places it in front of me. A glowing, fluffy heart of caramel brown radiates with drizzled syrup. The sweet scent causes me to lick my wanting lips. Jason is wearing a dazzling expression painted on his Adonis face as he looks me over still in my pjs.

Stabbing a knife and fork into the doughy meat, I hungrily take a mushy, sweet bite.

He slides into the seat across from me and says, "Good morning, Quinn. Your mom let me in to cook for you."

I finish my bite and swallow reaching for the glass of poured orange juice, "What's the occasion?"

Hoping that my forgetful brain didn't forget something special, I awaited his response with heart in throat.

"Nothing special, just glad that I'm with the love of my life." My insides shutter as he leans over and presses his calm, confident lips on mine. We break away from the kiss and I'm staring at his lovely dark lashes. His brown eyes are a sweet brownie color, an open invitation for any chocoholic like myself. I can smell a fresh, welcoming charcoal scent emanating from him. He's the perfect boyfriend. Perfect like how some of our classmates view me.

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After finishing the marvelously crafted breakfast and dressing, I find myself in Jason's warm, jet-black pickup. We are driving down the traffic-ridden streets of Denver heading straight to our school, EastEnd High.

Jason keeps steady hands on the steering wheel looking intently at the road every so often shooting me flattering glances. As an alternative rock song sounds on the radio, he speaks, "So where do you want to eat after the dance."

With Homecoming only two weeks away, we haven't given much thought about dinner plans. The tux and dress combination has already been long decided. "Whatever you decide will be fine."

He simply nods turning towards me with a smile. "You hear the rumors, right? We pretty much are set to be Homecoming Queen and King."

"Yeah..." I have heard this over the last few weeks. This news is ancient like the Roman Empire.

"What do we expect? We are Eastend's couple, after all." He focuses again on his driving, glowing with a sweet pride that leaves me smiling.

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We pull into the crowded parking lot with wandering students, heading towards the school. A gentleman in every sense of the word, Jason helps me out of his pickup and offers to hold my book bag. We trail behind other students with a few jealous eyes flickering away from the sight of us.