Mila's Heart

1. Walking on Sunshine

If there was one thing I know about wolves, it is that they are unpredictable, highly dramatic and ultimately unreliable.  She wolves, are survivors.  Having made it to the age of twenty-two without my wolf, fortunately, the pain of the rejection was not long lived.  Of course, I ached for the loss, just as anyone would, but I wasn't diminished.

Having received a full ride scholarship, for college, My life was full and busy.  For the past four years, I have lived in a garage apartment while working as a teacher's aide at a local elementary school.  With college finals over and graduation a week away, I lay on the beach soaking up the warm Jacksonville sun.  

Behind me, the entrance to my apartment is a set of steps coming up from the front of the garage and ending at the deck/balcony at the back. You enter my apartment through a set of French doors directly into the main living and kitchen area that runs the depth of the apartment. It is tastefully, although sparsely decorated in neutrals of sand, sky and sea.

Nothing in this room would remind anyone of my previous life at the pack house. My reading chair is nestled between a plant and my entertainment center that contains my stereo, TV and laptop. My stereo gets used more than anything else, besides when I have homework.

Facing the chair is a small sky blue sofa that would probably pass off as more of a loveseat. Over the back is a soft sand colored throw. Adjacent to that, in the middle of the room is my natural wood dining table. It is a trendy table that you might see in local pubs. It stands taller and the chairs have long legs. You could walk up and comfortably rest your elbows on the table and stand. The seats are padded in the same soft sky blue material of the sofa.

Next is my kitchen overlooking the front of the garage and although it is a bit on the small side, it lacks nothing. I am an excellent cook and I love cooking. The cabinets are made of the same natural wood with the granite on the counters being a natural sandy tone. The natural wood look carried to the floors throughout the apartment. Soft scatter rugs are placed strategically throughout the apartment in the same tones of sand, sky and surf. It is a beautiful effect. The walls are painted a billowy white with a hint of blue. It reminds me of the beautiful Jacksonville sky.

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To the left side of the apartment are the bedrooms with the bath nestled between. My bedroom faces the ocean with a set of French doors leading out to the deck/balcony as well. My huge bed that dominates the room is draped with a huge white comforter and piles of white pillows. White curtains hang from the tall posts on the bed and billow in the breeze. Another identical set of curtains hang at the French doors. The only punch of color in the room is the sand throw at the bottom of my bed and the sky and navy blue scatter rugs on the floors. A small dresser adorns the shared wall to the living room. There are three framed photographs of me and Dad, me and Rafe and me and Mikal. Me and the three men of my life, although Dad is the only one I have seen in the past four years.

The other bedroom is similarly done; however, because it is smaller, it contains a small full bed. The bathroom is just a small area done in the same tones as the rest of the apartment.  If you're reading this on teenfic site or similar ones, you're reading on a mirror site. To read this (and other stories) by the actual author FOR FREE, go to Wattpad/mellie_readsnwrites.

On the deck I have a patio table with four chairs and a covered swing that is large enough to be a bed. It is heaven on earth facing the beach and the ocean with the cool breeze hanging, the tang of salt, the birds circling and calling. All I needed was a bonfire and some adolescent werewolves and I could almost be home at a wolf soiree.

I rolled over on the beach towel to soak up some rays on my back. My mind began to wander from Jacksonville to home. I often drifted back to the meadows and streams we explored. I wish I were an artist so I could capture those moments that were in my heart on canvas. How beautiful Rafe was. My fingers tingle at the memories of tracing lines on his hand. My heart began to race at the memories of the fire his kisses left on my lips, my hair, and my skin. I abruptly sat up in frustration. "Four years and no word!" I angrily spat. "How can I continue to feel this way?"

My arms instinctively began to encircle my chest. I became conscious of the gesture and mentally shook myself. My arms dropped to my sides. I had decided four years ago, that night in my room, that I was not going to become a zombie. I didn't deserve that and neither did Dad nor Mom. I had decided that I wasn't just going to go through the motions of living; I had decided to live and enjoy it. So, after my three weeks of mourning, I sat down and planned out my life on my terms and I have followed it to the letter. Now, four years have passed and I am no longer weak, breakable, clumsy Mila. I am educated, accomplished, confident and graceful. My life-my terms.

That moment, my cell phone rang, bringing me out of my memories. "Mila" the voice on the other end began. "How is my little girl?" Dad asked.

"Dad. I am doing well. Laying here on the beach soaking in some rays." I laughed. "How are you?"

"I am doing good. I have some news for you." He blurted out. "Are you sitting down? Sit down. Mikal is back. He's been back for a couple of months now; I just didn't want to tell you in the middle of your last semester in college. I know this is a pivotal time for you."

"Mikal's back?" I squeaked out. I could hardly breathe. I had almost given up hope that he was even still alive. I hadn't heard from him in the last four years either.

"Yeah Mila. He's asked about you. He knows your graduation is next weekend and he would like to come with me and your mom to see you. Would that be okay?" Dad asked hesitantly.

A rush of emotions came over me all at once. My skin began to burn that had nothing to do with the hot Jacksonville sun. "Uh. Yeah! Dad, that would be wonderful." My eyes filled with tears. "I want to see Mikal. I have missed him so much. I am so glad he is okay."

"Mila, he's changed." Dad warned. "He's not the kid he once was."

I held my breath.

"I think it is a good change. He seems more mature, less reckless. I think he may have grown up." Dad added. "I know he's terribly happy you didn't marry Rafe."

I mentally winced at the mention of Rafe's name. It still brings a lot of pain to hear his name. I think about him every day. No one knows that but me.

"We'll see you on Saturday then, Mila." Dad went on. "I love ya."

"See ya Dad. Love you too." I added. "I look forward to seeing you all here this weekend."

I turned off the cell phone and continued to stare at it. I hadn't seen Mikal in four years. Although I was excited to see him, I was still a little angry. What had kept him so long? What would our reunion be like? What would he be like? How would he feel about me after so long? How would I feel about him? Would he still be my Mikal? My head began to ache and reel with the thought. I gathered my things up from the beach and went into my apartment. I was going to need to buy more groceries.