Decisions Ch. 11

With one last shove, Stasi was sent stumbling forward into the hockey area, with me straight on her heels. As a matter of fact, I nearly shoved her right into Coach Butler. As a satyr sticking to his strict diet, he had a plate of salad in his hands and was watching us with an eyebrow raised.

"Act your age, Williams." He scolded. "Not your shoe size."

"Sorry, Coach Butler." I said.

"His fault," Stasi pointed at me.

"I know it was his fault," Coach Butler said.

"Well, it wasn't technically my fault, since you were the one that du-..."

"It was your fault," Stasi said pointedly, gazing at me with those crystal blue eyes of hers.

"-... It was my fault," I conceded.

"While we play the blame game," Coach Butler said, placing his salad down on a folding table. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about, Chris."

"Oh yeah? What's up, Coach?"

"Coach Freddy wants to set up a meeting with you. He said he has some good news about a college."

"Did he say which one?" I asked eagerly. UCLA was Stasi and I's dream. It was one of the hardest colleges to get into in California.

Coach Butler shook his head. "No, but he sounded pretty excited. Here, we'll do a joint meeting sometime the week after this one. How about that?"

"Sounds good," I said. "I'll see you then. E-mail me the details."

"You got it, Chris."

Stasi and I walked away. When we finally out of earshot, she excitedly punched me on the arm.

"Ow!"

"Sorry," Stasi said, not the least bit sorry. "But lyubov, Coach Freddy wants to talk to you about college. College! Playing in college!"

"I'm not going where you're not going," I said bluntly.

"No, you're going," She said. "You're not going to throw away your future for me."

"Stasi," I stopped walking, turning to look at her. I placed my hands on her curvaceous hips, holding her. "You're my future. I'm not throwing you away. If we have to go to community together, we'll go together. I'm not going where you're not going. You're stuck with me until the end of days."

Stasi's lips quivered and I immediately knew why. It was one of her biggest fears next to her hurting me with her vampiric ways: me leaving her. No matter how much she pushed for me to chase my 'dreams', there was always that spot in her heart that begged me to stay.

I'd never leave her though. Never in a million years. She was my lifelong companion, the one I trusted the most, the one I loved, even though she wasn't even my species. She was my dream and I was going to chase her until I died.

"Promise?" She whispered.

"Promise," I replied, kissing her.

*****

It took a while before we were called out. It was unlike how we had to wait for our games to start. We had more than a few members on our team and while some jogged quickly to the stage, some, like Viktor, took their time, hyping the crowd up or doing something funny for the cameras. But, rather than stewing in nervous excitement, Stasi and I relaxed and lounged on one of the shared couches. Finally, we heard the bated breath of anticipation from the crowd since we were the last ones in the tent.

"Ladies and gentlemen, number fourteen, at the left wing, Chriissssss Willliiiaaaaaaams!" The announcer boomed.

Stasi and I, hand in hand, left the tunnel to raucous applause, with smiles on our faces and interlocked hands raised to the crowds of people as we made our way to the stage, where the shiny silver trophy lay on it's display. It was probably covered in fingerprints and dirtied, but I was planning to kiss it anyways.

We were finally revealing ourselves to the people. Not an idea of us spurned by a news report or a regaling tale of courage. The real us. Two normal high schoolers who were coincidentally deep and hopelessly in love, doing their best to live in an ugly, brutal, and racist world. Everyone was all happy to see us, to finally see the real us.

Except one person. A teenager with a very scraggly looking beard. Well, at least he looked like a teenager. Even though I was abysmal at guessing the ages of people, I knew that he couldn't have been older than me by that much. That's not what drew my eyes, though.

He stood out amongst the crowd because of his species, being one of the few humans that we've seen so far. He was different from everyone else in almost any other way, though. For starters, he was the only one that didn't have a speck of royal blue on him, wearing an expensive gray jacket that was left unzipped, revealing a black button up underneath. They matched fairly well with his jeans.

The most damning feature of all was the piercing look of his dark eyes, eyes that conveyed hate, uncertainty... fear?

I found myself mesmerized and unable to look away. Time slowed down, leaving just the two of us. The man stared at me and I stared at him. He faltered, almost as if surprised that I was giving him any attention.

Seconds passed between us, minutes, hours, days, years.

"Lyubov," Stasi asked, looking at me with her big, crystal blue eyes. "What's wrong?"

I tried to look at her and lie, to tell her that I thought that nothing was wrong, but I found myself unable to. Maybe unwilling was the right term. I didn't want to take my eyes off of him. All I could do was watch him.

Then, over the din of the cheering crowd, the man opened his mouth, screaming a single, ugly word that I heard countless times over the years. A word that was spat behind my back for my close friendship with Stasi, a word that was attributed to me on multiple news sources, blogs, and what have you. A single word that became my moniker in the eyes of my own species simply for believing in what I believed in.

"TRAITOR!" He screeched.

Activity around him stopped immediately, many rounding on him in shock. What did he say? Why did he say it? Who is this guy?

What is he doing here?

He looked left then right wildly, before finally focusing on me again. Like before, I saw the hate and contempt in his eyes, and I almost thought it impossible, but it was worse this time. Inflated by stupid adrenaline, by the prospect of being heard and seen by countless amount of people watching.

He plunged his hand into his jacket.

My eyes immediately widened. Weapon. Gun. He was carrying a gun.

I always thought that Anton and the entire Coven were being overbearing and overprotective, assigning us Coven security. Now, I really saw why. Stasi and I were banners, symbols for the Anti DTOSA movement. Even though we were just kids, we carried a message that resonated through the entire country. That humans and nonhumans could co-exist and love each other with passion and intensity.

Except, not to this man. He wanted us ripped down.

We were so close that if he reached forward and I reached forward, we would be able to comfortably shake hands. He was so close to me that if he did have a gun, he wouldn't miss.

Everything happened in slow motion, milliseconds stretching to hours, and hours stretching to years. I don't remember everything I did. All I remember was stepping in front of Stasi and bringing up my arm in stupid belief that it could protect Stasi and I from bullets, that my skin was impervious to damage.

A thousand thoughts flashed through my mind. Instead of getting the chance to marry the girl I loved, the girl who had my back since I was five, instead of getting to create a family with her and love her, and cherish her to the end of my days, I was going to die here.

I wasn't going to be able to teach my kids how to throw a football, how to play hockey, how to speak flawless Russian without a bad accent, how to be kind to one another. I wasn't going to be able to witness Stasi being the perfect mom or ever find out if the DTOSA was ever truly going to be repealed. I wasn't going to know whether or not we were just going to be stuck in this whirlpool of hate and despair forever or if there'd actually be some change.

All my hopes and dreams, everything I ever wanted or will want, wasn't going to matter anymore. It was all going to come to an end, right here.

Gunned down on the steps of the Pacific Mall, a torn down banner for all the world to see. A bad and ugly ending to a wonderful life.

And I was helpless to stop it.

The man pulled out something metallic, the sunlight glinting off the the shiny material.

This is it.

I was happy in a twisted and demented way, though. Out of all the ways I wanted to die, none of them ever had me alone. I was with my best friend. All those years we shared together, no matter how many more I wanted, gave me a great life.

"GUN!" A woman screamed, her centaur hooves clomping as she reared back, nearly kicking someone in the head. "Oh god! He's carrying a GUN!"

No matter how unfair it was, Christopher Williams and Anastasia Sokolov were at the end of the line.

Chapter 2:

Here is the land. It is cold and white. It has snow. It is very pretty. Here is the people. Mother, Father, Chris, and Stasi live in the snow. They are happy. They are not sad. See Stasi. She has big fangs. She wants to play. Who will play with Stasi? See the human. The human has lots of blood water. The human will play with Stasi. They will play a good long game. Play, Chris, play. Fall in love, Chris. Love, Chris, Love. Lose your blood water, Chris. Lose, Chris, Lose. Lose your life Chris. Lose, Chris, Lose. Wake now, Chris. Wake, Chris, Wake.

Here is the land it is cold and white it has snow it is very pretty here is the people mother father chris and stasi live in the snow they are happy they are not sad see stasi she has big fangs she wants to play who will play with stasi see the human the human has lots of blood water the human will play with stasi they will play a good long game play chris play fall in love chris love chris love lose your blood water chris lose chris lose lose your life chris lose chris lose wake now chris wake chris wake.

Hereisthelanditiscoldandwhiteithassnowitisveryprettyhereisthepeoplemotherfatherchrisandstasiliveinthesnowtheyarehappyhteyarenotsadseestasishehasbigfangsshewantstoplaywhowillplaywithstasiseethehumanthehumanhaslotsofbloodwaterthehumanwillplaywithstasitheywillplayagoodlonggameplaychrisplayfallinlovechrislovechrisloveloseyourbloodwaterchrislosechrisloseyourlifechrislosechrislosewakenowchriswakechriswake.

Time to wake up.

*****

"Don't you dare touch that pudding," I warned, raising a finger and wagging it towards Stasi. She pouted and reluctantly let go of the container, placing it back on my desk.

"That's my last pudding," I continued. "You literally ate all the other puddings a week ago. You don't get to eat this pudding. I earned that pudding."

"Darn. Okay," She replied quietly, smiling a weak fangy smile.

She stood up and walked over to me. When she got to the side of my bed, she looked at our parents as if to ask for permission. Our moms simply nodded happily. Stasi grinned widely, before bending low and giving me a soft, cold kiss on the forehead, brow, cheek, and lips before moving her mouth to my ear.

"I love you, Chris." She whispered tearfully in her accent, sending tingles down my spine. "I know I said that a million times already and asked you this a million times too, but please don't ever do this to me ever again. My heart won't be able to take it."

"I love you too, Stasi." I replied, getting choked up. "I promise I won't."

She made to pull away, but I had latched onto her hand and wouldn't let her cold hand go. "Wait," I murmured. "I have something to tell you."

"What is it?" Stasi asked. Our parents and Elena, ever the nosy loved ones of mine, instinctively leaned in to hear my quiet growl-like voice, husky from all the screaming at the parade.

"Stasi," I whispered.

"Yes, zaichik?" She asked, her face millimeters from mine. Her mouth was so close to mine that her fangs could just nip at my skin.

"You can have the pudding," I told her. "I know how much you like the vanilla ones."

Our mothers and Elena all collectively 'awwed'.

Stasi's face immediately broke out into a dazzling and goofy fangy grin of delight. She giggled and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"We'll share it," She declared. "It's not fair that I get to eat all the pudding in your house and you don't even get a single dollop."

She went back to the table to collect the pudding. But, she couldn't pull away. I was still holding tightly onto her hand. I was unwilling and unable to let her go and get the vanilla-flavored custard for us. She looked at me confused, before she instantly relaxed.

"I'm not going anywhere, zaichik. I don't want to let go either." She said quietly, coming back and giving me another kiss on the cheek to placate me. "Ya obeshchayu, ya seychas vernus'."

Even though my parents didn't speak a word of Russian, I don't think they needed to to understand what Stasi said. I nodded mutely, letting go of my best friend's hand. As soon as the feeling of her cold skin left mine, I instantly missed it. Even though she was only a few feet away, my heart yearned for her to come back to me. What had happened today made me realize how fast I could lose everything in an instant.

"Are you feeling OK, Christopher?" Yulia asked warmly, standing up and walking to the side of my bed.

"I'm fine," I replied, sitting up in bed to meet her and wincing when pain flashed through my rib cage. It hurt. As a matter of fact, everything hurt. My head hurt, my chest hurt, my arms and legs hurt. It felt like I was hit with a ten ton truck or a werebear on some serious steroids and bullshark testosterone.

Now that I think about it, those could be used interchangeably for units of pain.

"No you're not, you little soldier." My mom tutted, stepping up to my bed and fluffing my pillows. "Lay back and don't move."

"Yes, mom." I replied dutifully.

Although I repeatedly said I was fine, they still went and got extra pillows and plushes from the guest room and closet, enough to make me a rather comfortable nest of fluff. I was quite content to lay here, resting my sore and aching body.

"How are you actually feeling?" She asked, touching my cheek tentatively, almost as if afraid that I was a mirage and her real son was dead.

Well, that wouldn't do.

"Like Ii've been shot." I quipped, making my dad, Anton, and Elena break out into spatterings of laughter. I somewhat regretted making them laugh. If they laughed, it made me want to laugh and for now, laughing hurt.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Stasi immediately stiffen. She rounded on me, glaring daggers at me and baring her fangs. I had a feeling that I just talked my way out of a spoonful of vanilla pudding.

"That's not funny!" My mom growled, looking at my dad with an icy look in her eyes. "Damn you, Robert. You know that's not funny!"

"Da, eto ne tak." Yulia added, rounding on Anton and Elena with a cold look on her face.

My dad and Anton stopped laughing right away. Elena probably would've, had I not winked at her behind Yulia's back and flashed her a thumbs up. She smiled weakly at me, before looking back down at her lap in mild guilt.

"Oh, come on, dear," My dad said soothingly, rubbing my mom's hand with his own. "It's nice to hear him be himself."

"It's also nice to know that your son's sense of humor is alright," Anton added. "You know how Christopher is, zayka."

"Yes, but I saw my baby boy nearly get killed because he was getting stomped on by crowds of people." My mom argued fiercely, making my dad and Anton place their feet in their mouths. "How can you say that's funny?"

Funnily enough, did you know that in the event of mass panic or disaster, in some cases, the most dangerous thing to the people wasn't the actual disaster, it was actually the people? In a nutshell, all it takes is a wave of pandemonium to rush through a crowd for a terrifying stampede to occur. It doesn't matter where you are. Dangerous human stampedes can occur anywhere where mass groups of people congregate.

And that's exactly what happened...

Except, it wasn't as bad as it could've been.

The young man who pulled the gun was immediately buried under a pile of parade goers and beaten to a complete pulp. Elena even managed to get a couple of kicks in, from what I heard. Stasi and I were wrenched away from him by our Coven security. She managed to stay on her feet but I fell to the floor. In the ensuing chaos of closely packed bystanders running, I was trampled and stepped on by a few people. It was like I had dived for a fumble in football and created a pile-up, but it was under a pile of raging centaurs and werebears.

Worst of all, Stasi's hand was ripped from me, leaving me grasping and clawing at nothing but air. Elena told me that as soon as Stasi realized that I wasn't next to her anymore, her vampiric protectiveness kicked in. Her eyes turned to an oily black, and her fangs were elongated. She was snarling and hissing, cursing in Russian and trying to get to me with tears of blood running down her cheeks. She had gone mad with anguish.

In moments though, I managed to get pulled to my feet by a few good Samaritans in the end, but the damage was done. I suffered a few cracked ribs and my body was covered in shoe-shaped bruises. I tried to hide the harsh injuries from my parents and Stasi, but they just knew I wasn't ok.

As soon as they figured out that it hurt to breath, they took me right to the hospital where I was promptly checked out for any lasting injuries. Coincidentally, we went to the only few hospitals in the city that treated both humans and nonhumans. It was also where I was treated for the Brick Incident.

When Doctor Shukla was satisfied that I was okay and that I didn't have a collapsed lung or a severe break, he cleaned the cuts that lined my face and arms and let me go home with the promise not to come back ever. All I supposedly needed to treat my ribs was time.

So that was where I was now. After an exhausting morning and a hectic afternoon, I was going to be spending my evening recuperating on my bed, surrounded by my family. Lucy, Jazz, and Ricky were going to show up later, having already texted me and promising to bring a pizza for dinner, on the house from the Scaletta family.

An excellent end to a celebratory day, if I do say so myself.

"I'm sorry," I said, apologizing to Stasi for the not-so-witty remark I made earlier as she came back with the container of pudding clenched in her fist. I moved to the side to make space for her on my bed, hissing softly in pain.

Her anger and irritation vaporized in an instant. "It's ok. I can't help it if you're a dummy." She replied softly, plopping down on the bed next to me so her cold body was snug against mine and fiddling with the plastic container of pudding. Unable to pry the foil cover away with her hands, she tutted in frustration and just brought the container to her mouth, using her fangs to poke a hole in the cover. Then, she jammed her finger into the hole, ripping away the foil.

Satisfied that it was big enough to spoon pudding out of, Stasi inserted the utensil, spooning out a generous helping of vanilla confectionary. She held out the spoon to me.

"Open." She told me.

I shook my head, even though my empty stomach was protesting. I hadn't eaten anything since this morning. "You can have the fir-.."

"Otkryto," She ordered forcefully, baring her fangs.

I opened my mouth.

Without taking her loving eyes off of me, she inserted the spoon into my mouth and fed me the delicious vanilla flavored pudding. I hadn't had anything sweet since hockey season started (save for a few cheat meals) and it tasted divine.

"How is that?" She asked.

"Great." I replied.

"Good," She replied, spooning a smaller dollop of pudding into her own mouth.

"I wonder what the news is saying," My mom piped up. She stared blankly at the TV that remained off. We kept it off for a reason.