Catalyst

Chapter Eighteen

Two days later, and in a hotel three towns over, James convinced Phoebe that he was well enough to be her guinea pig and let her attempt a compulsive shift on him. She knew he wanted her to be able to defend herself, more than actually be aggressive with it, but it needed to be done either way, and she was going to try her hardest.

They had left Bruce's car in a shopping mall parking lot the day before and gone on foot a few miles to a hotel famous for its morning buffet. They were going to be out of money if they stayed too long, but there weren't many other places nearby.

She was going to try making James into something small so that he wouldn't feel trapped, but also something that could think enough to recognize them. Maybe then he wouldn't freak out like she had done when she'd turned into Chevy.

James stood in front of her in the room, the blinds and curtains secure, while Elliott guarded the door, periodically checking the peep-hole for anyone who looked overly interested in any noises that might come from their room. Like barking. Or howling. Shaking her arms out and rolling her shoulders, Phoebe took a deep breath and shut her eyes. It had to be like getting only her arms to shift. Concentrating on two things at once, an animal, or whatever it was she wanted to shift into, and also a place. Only now, that place was James.

She heard him loosen the knot on the hotel room's complimentary robe and tried not to think about how absolutely naked he was underneath.

The past couple days had definitely felt off. James left her alone, only speaking to her when necessary. He never brought up her declaration of love, and she was too afraid to mention it. Elliott left for long stretches of time during the day, and when she was alone with James it was easier for her to read or watch TV or secretly practice shifting than it was to talk to him.

It had never been like that before. They'd been able to talk about anything: relationships, dreams, fears, school, family, anything and everything. Now it was all business. If it wasn't about Cicero, shifting, or Elliott, he had nothing to say, and she couldn't figure out if he was trying to freeze her out, make her want to leave, or if he just didn't know what to say to her anymore. Either way it was draining her, not having him. She was used to being the eager, happy one in their friendship—cheering him up and being ready with a smile when he needed it—but she couldn't muster up the energy to be jovial today. It wasn't in her to fake it, so she'd been all business right back at him. It was costing her.

"Let's get this over with," she muttered, her mood foul.

She thought about a black lab, one with brown eyes and a goofy smile, who loved tugging on rope and running in circles. Every canine show she'd seen on Animal Planet finally paid off, and she filled in the details of the dog's fur and his warm belly which he would love her to rub while he wriggled on the floor. It was easy wanting him. It was harder to merge that want, that craving, with James.

Just like with her hands, she concentrated on James' body. She had the advantage of seeing him almost every day, and without a shirt. She'd seen him in nothing more than swim shorts at the pool when he life-guarded, and the image of him, tan from the sun, lounging on his chair by the water's edge was permanently engraved into her memory.

James groaned and she peeked one eye open to see him kneeling on the carpet, one hand to his chest. He was rubbing her sternum and shaking his head as if he was confused.

"Alright, buddy?" Elliott asked, taking his eye away from the peep-hole.

He grunted and nodded his head, his jaw tight.

Over and over she thought of wanting the dog with her, and then wanting the dog with James. There were a couple of times where she started to feel the tingling warning that she was shifting, and she doubled her efforts at directing the dog to James. Her eyes opened when she heard James give one final grunt, four or five minutes into her exhausting meditation, and it turned into a soft woof.