The Frog and The Beast

The Beast Chapter 7

Jenny arrived an hour later. I sat on my bed, shades drawn, the lights off except for the faint glow of the closet light. I was waiting, hoping that in the darkness, Jenny might not notice how I looked. I wore a pair of my uncle's old jeans, a size too big, and a long-sleeved shirt—anything to cover up. All I needed was one kiss. "Love and a kiss," the witch had said. Then it would be over. I'd be my old, beautiful self again, and this cosmic joke would finally come to an end.

Finally, a knock came at the door.

"Come in," I called out.

She opened the door, peering into the dim room.

"Why is it so dark in here, Glen?" she asked, a hint of confusion in her voice.

"I wanted it to be romantic. There's something I need to tell you."

"Okay. What is it?"

"I love you, Jenny," I said, my heart racing. "I love you so much..."

"I love you too," she giggled. "You've never said it first before."

"You didn't let me finish. I love you so much that I'd love you even if you weren't so hot."

"Huh?"

"It's true. I'd love you even if you were ugly. And... wouldn't you love me even if I was ugly?"

Another giggle escaped her lips. "You could never be ugly, Glen."

"But what if I was? What if I had, like, a huge zit on my nose? Could you still love me?"

"On your nose? You have a zit on your nose?"

"It's just a rhetorical question! Would you still love me?"

"Sure, but this is weird, Glen. You're being weird."

"Just hear me out, okay?" I said, my heart pounding. "I mean it. I need to know if you could love me no matter what I looked like. Because... I've been going through some stuff, and I need to know that you really mean it when you say you love me."

She stepped closer, her brow furrowing in confusion. "What do you mean? What kind of stuff?"

I hesitated, the weight of my secret pressing down on me. I wanted to tell her everything, to reveal the truth about my curse, but fear held me back. What if she laughed? What if she ran away?

"Just... personal stuff," I finally said, trying to sound casual. "You know how it is—teenage drama and all that."

"Whatever," she replied, rolling her eyes. "Can we just make out or something? This is getting awkward."

"Yes."

I patted the side of my bed, and she sat next to me. I leaned in and kissed her quickly on the mouth, expecting to feel something—anything—like I did when I first changed. But nothing.

"Ick, Glen!" she gagged. "You feel so hairy! You need to shave! Did you even shower today? Because you're getting nowhere with me if you didn't."

"Of course I showered!"

"Let me turn on the light. I want to see." She reached for the lamp.

The light blazed on.

Then I heard a scream.

"Who are you? What are you?" She started hitting me, and I cowered, terrified of hurting her with my claws. "Get away from me!"

"Jenny! It's me, Glen!"

She kept hitting, even kicking at me.

"Jenny, please! I know it sounds crazy, but you have to believe me! That goth chick I messed with—she was a real witch!"