Decisions Ch. 12

"I'll only be a second!" I said, quickly opening the door before she could lock it. "I promise."

"Stay here," She insisted. "Please."

"Gone for only for a second," I promised, pecking her on the cheek to placate her. "I just want to see what's going on and if traffic will clear up. I'm a human, they won't touch me."

Stasi wanted to argue, but couldn't. It was the grim truth. I was a human and in a mainly nonhuman area like this part of San Francisco, I was virtually untouchable. That is, I was untouchable provided that I wasn't wearing any Belcourt gear. It was pretty easy to mistake me as a werewolf or vampire at first glance if you saw me wearing the royal blue of my school.

"Come back to me," She ordered.

"I will. I promise," I said, pulling off my Belcourt High School Hockey jacket and setting it on the passenger. I pushed the car door open, stepping onto the street, and closed it.

"Hey man, what's going on?!" A driver at the car across from us shouted.

I shrugged and walked forward at a brisk pace, just in case traffic started up. I was not in the mood to play human frogger with San Francisco drivers. As I got closer to the sirens, I noticed that were was a pretty big commotion on the sidewalk, with a group of people being corralled and held back by San Francisco Police officers.

"You're not welcome here!"

"Go home!"

"Excuse me, young man, stop right there!" An officer shouted at me. He was manning the car that blocked off the road. He was clad in black SWAT gear and carried not a gun, but one of the electrified leash poles.

It was definitely a raid, probably on one of the stores. The leash poles were only used with weres and other 'dangerous' species. What it was in a nutshell was a long rod with a clamp at the end of it. It was thrusted at the suspect's neck and the clamp closed, locking itself around the neck.

It was inhumane, primitive, and horribly effective. It allowed the officer to keep space between him and the suspect, while also allowing the officer to control said suspect. In case the suspect didn't want to comply or tried to transform, the leash would shock the person back to reality.

"Sorry," I said, raising my hands. "I just wanted to know what was the hold up."

"Police matters, The officer said politely, lifting up the visor to his helmet. "We had to stop traffic, we'll get the cars through. Just please return to your vehicle. You might get hit by a car."

"You got it, offi-.."

"I didn't do anything!" A centaur woman exclaimed, being led out of the store by two officers clad in armor.

"Ma'am, please calm down!" The officer guiding her said soothingly, patting her on her chestnut-haired rear. "Come over here to the squad car and we'll give you some sugar cubes."

"You think I can be placated by sugar cubes?" The centaur cried shrilly, but still heading to the squad car to get sugar cubes anyways. "I have police searching my store!"

"Ma'am, we had numerous people say-.."

The officer saw where my eyes were looking and snapped his fingers. "Young man, return to your vehicle now." He ordered, beginning to look a bit self conscious.

"You got it..." I murmured, stepping away from the police raid back to my car. I was quite surprised. A year ago, the police would've run in like it was the Alamo and wreck havoc like a werebear in a china shop. Now they were... good? No, that wasn't the word. They were professional, courteous, and polite. Even at the checkpoints that Stasi and I crossed, gone were the sneers and the "We're-Better-Than-You" attitude. Sure, it was still exemplified by some, but things were changing.

They must've realized that you can't treat someone different because of what they look like.

That made my heart warm.

*****

"Why did you park so far? We could've parked on the street." I asked as Stasi maneuvered the car into one of the spots in the near-empty parking garage.

"I didn't want to park on the street with all the police. This is the only parking spot I could found." She said defensively.

"It's could find," I corrected, laughing at her adorable accent and mistake. A side effect of growing up speaking Russian. "Not could found."

"Pardon me. English is hard enough as it is." She replied, moving to open the car door. "Come on, let's go."

"Wait." I said, stopping her.

"What?"

I leaned over the center console and pulled her close to me, pecking her on the lips. I only meant for it to be a peck, but it quickly grew passionate. Once Stasi slowly inserted her tongue into my mouth and started to fight for dominance, it turned into a full-blown makeout session. Even though Stasi had razor sharp fangs, kissing was totally our thing. "Sorry," I gasped as I pulled away. "Just felt like doing that since I love you so much."

"Don't apologize." She giggled, a blush rising to her cheeks. "Dork." We both opened the car door, exiting onto the parking garage. It was a bit of a walk to Kirby's, but we didn't mind. With interlocked hands, we exited the parking garage and headed into the mall, the safe haven for nonhumans here in the city of San Francisco.

Even though the celebrations had long since passed, the Pacific Mall was still sporting Belcourt decorations. At the front where there was a flag pole, a Belcourt flag was flying underneath it, displaying the 'RISE UP' for all to see. Storefronts even had pennants stuck to the windows and carried that said students with Belcourt ID's got perks and discounts.

What a time to be alive and carrying a Belcourt student ID.

"Lots of Belcourt Pride." Stasi noted happily.

"Yeah, I even heard that they were planning to put a Minotaur statue smack down in the middle of the Mall. That'd be pretty cool." I replied, my chest swelling up with pride. I still couldn't believe that I was the president of the school that the entire nonhuman society here in the city embraced. I mean, sure, I kind of just walked in and took it like Julius Caesar crossing the Rubicon River...

But, you don't see me strolling into the cafeteria surrounded by people strapped with knives ready to stab me to death, do you?

Et tu, Christopher?

We walked through the semi-crowded mall, heading towards the back end. People recognized us and waved as we walked past, people we've never seen in our lives. We only waved back. It was nice being here at the Mall, where we could be... well, we could be normal. We could just be two best friends who were in love, enjoying a night out while their high school careers were on the eve of ending.

In no time at all, we finally arrived at Kirby's. We walked right in, a bell jingling above us as the door opened.

"Hello, you two!" Kirby greeted. He was behind a display, talking to a customer. The customer was young, high school aged and a slime. It took me a while to realize she was from Belcourt. I didn't know her name, but I knew she was a junior.

"Hi, Kirby." Stasi said, waving.

"I'll be with you in a second, let me just get Ms. Waters her dress here." He replied. "I'll be back in a second."

"Take your time," Waters said, nodding as Kirby walked to the back. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, tapping her fingers on the table. They wobbled every time they made slight contact with the glass, leaving behind small drops of water.

"Prom dress shopping?" I asked, breaking into her reverie.

"Hm? Oh yes! I heard that Kirby's is the best dress designer in the city!" Waters said, turning to us as if that was what she wanted to do ever since we walked in. I guess someone had to break the ice... or the gel... or the slime. "Are you two shopping for prom? Chris and Annie, right? The cutest couple at Belcourt?"

"We already shopped." Stasi said awkwardly, a blush rising to her cheeks. "We're here to pick something up for a friend."

"Yes we are, but I'm sure you'll look amazing in your own dress!" I said, wracking through my brain for her name. I subtly nudged Stasi in the side. She gave me a look and I gave her one back. We were having those subtle conversations we could have without saying anything.

"Savannah, right?" Stasi asked, tilting her head.

"That's me." Savannah said, her cheeks glistening.

"Nice to meet you," She said cordially, with that slight hint of frostiness and stoicism that manifested when she talked with people she didn't know all too well.

"And here we are, Ms. Waters!" Kirby said, carrying a laced parcel back to the display table. "A dress to your specifications and proportions. Made of completely hydrophobic material, just as you asked."

"Thank you, Mr. Kirby." She said, digging into her purse.

"Will that be cash or card?"

"Card, please."

"Okay," Kirby said, pressing a few buttons on the register. "Now, you already did a thirty percent deposit on the dress, so I'm deducting that for the final price... and Belcourt students get another twenty percent off, so your total is eighty-three-ninety-one." Savannah handed him the card and he swiped it through the register. "Pin number please... thank you... and, looks like you're all set, Ms. Waters. You have a great day!"

"Thank you," Savannah said, holding onto the parcel. She walked towards the store, waving at us as she passed. "I'll see you two at prom!"

We waved good bye at her and waited for Kirby to sort a few things out on the display table before he finally addressed us. "You two are here for Ms. Bohannon's dress, correct? Right, it's just around back. Come with me and we'll be able to take a good look at it before we ship it off into the great unknown."

We followed him to the back of the store, past an area that was marked "Employees Only". The backroom of the store was a large storage room, with racks upon racks of various articles of clothing. Some were completed and awaiting their chance at going to the front room while others were merely half-finished and awaiting final touches.

"What's this?" I asked, picking up one of the finished dresses. It was ruby red and made of some kind of thick material. Unlike the other dresses that came to the floor, this one only came down to the knees, flaring out like a mermaid's tail.

"That's a dress," Kirby said.

Stasi snorted, clamping a hand over her mouth.

"Yes, well, I can see that. It feels weird. What's it made out of?" I asked, observing it intently.

"That's because it's made out of neoprene. It's a prom dress for one of Belcourt's students."

"Neoprene?" Stasi asked, scandalized at the prospect of such an unorthodox material being used in fashion. "Isn't that what they make wetsuits out of?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, it is." He answered, sifting through the various mannequins. "It's made to keep the girl who ordered it insulated and moisturized." He glanced at us. "She's a mermaid so of course I couldn't fashion a normal dress for her. Although I relished making it, I can't say it wasn't tedious and frustrating at times. I can't seem to give it the right love and dedication I want to. I'm a bit swamped with orders."

"Sorry," I said sheepishly. "We kind of..." My voice trailed off.

"Advertised your store?" Stasi finished, equally as sheepish.

"Nonsense! You take your apologies away this instant, Ms. Sokolov!" Kirby exclaimed. "I thrive off of repeat business. It is the only way my store can survive compared to the larger outfits and the both of you have generated enough business for me these past few months than I have ever earned over the course of years! A decade and a half I've been here and I may even have to take on an assistant for the first time ever!"

"That's great!" Stasi effused. "Now Lucy's.."

"Ms. Bohannon's dress, correct. Let me try and find it."

He set off to look through the racks, leaving Stasi and I standing in the center of the room.

"Oooh," Stasi said. "There's my dress."

"Where?" I asked, snapping my head to where she was looking so fast that I nearly got whiplash.

"There." She said, gesturing to a massive rack labeled 'Belcourt'. It was full of tuxedos and dresses. "I only got a small glimpse though, so I'm not too sure."

There was no way I was going to be able to make out any singular article of clothing from the rack. I would've have been able to distinguish her anyways. They all looked so amazing and would've looked beautiful on her.

"You're teasing me, aren't you?" I grumbled.

"Sorry, lyubov." Stasi said. "Couldn't resist."

"Now," Kirby began, sifting through some of the racks. "Ms. Bohannon's dress is here somewhere... Bohannon... Bohannon... Beal... Bennett... Black... Bradshaw... no, that's not right. I must've skipped it. Beal... Bennett... Bohannon! Yes, Bohannon!" He pulled out the dress, holding it up. "Here it is."

He carried it over to us, laying it down on a table so we could examine it. Stasi and I both gasped softly when we saw it up close. The dress was a black floor length gown with long embellished sleeves and a trumpet skirt. The arms and back were see-through and the lower part of the dress was flared, having a large hump to fit Lucy's carapace and the front was accessorized with a shining bodice.

If there was ever a personality for the dress, it'd scream Lucy. It was unassuming and plain, yet spoke wonders.

"I love it." Stasi breathed.

"Not better than your own dress," Kirby laughed. "I don't mean to be biased, Ms. Sokolov, but I had alot more fun designing yours and Chris's outfits to prom."

"Can we see it?" I asked interestedly. "Ours, I mean."

"Some day, Christopher." Kirby said, casting a mischievous glance at Stasi. "Some day, you'll be able to see it. Until now, I'm afraid you'll have to wait and stew."

"Thank you, Kirby." Stasi laughed.

"Not a problem, Anastasia. Now then, will you be wanting me to wrap this for you?"

Chapter 4:

Keeping everything under wraps was the hardest thing we could ever do. Stasi and I wanted so bad to simply drive over to Lucy's house right after we got back from the Pacific Mall and show her the dress, screaming "Ta-da!"... but, that was instant gratification. Delayed gratification was so much more better because that's what everybody always said.

Right?

Right.

So, we just waited until tomorrow.

"You're sure this is Lucy's apartment?" Ricky asked, looking at the decrepit apartment building.

"Of course." Jazz retorted. "Haven't you been to Lucy's before?"

Ricky shook his head no and I was about to say the same until I remembered that I visited her apartment once to work on a project together. She lived deep in the ghettos of San Francisco, the supposed 'bad part' of town. Rather, it was the part where nonhumans could really live without paying exorbitant prices. She lived with her mom. I didn't know who her dad was. I never wanted to ask.

I think Stasi knew though. I knew she'd tell me if I really asked, but I didn't want to. Lucy would tell me if she wanted to. Lucy was one of my closest friends.

"Well this is where she lives," Stasi said, pulling out the dress from the trunk. "Now come on, are you going to carry the stuff or not?"

"Why can't you lie-oo-both carry it?" Ricky retorted, picking up the boxes of pizza and the XBox.

"It's pronounced lyubov," Stasi corrected with a hint of possessiveness. No one was able to say lyubov except her. "And that's because he got the pizza and it's his XBox."

"And you're way stronger," Jazz complimented, batting her slitted eyes.

"Oh well... I guess in that case," Ricky said, his face reddening as he hefted the items out of my trunk and carrying them towards the lobby of Lucy's apartment.

"I know he's stronger," I said defensively, watching him go. "But, he's not that much stronger is he?"

Stasi simply shot me a look with her crystal blue eyes that were filled with mirth and shrugged her shoulders. Jazz did the same thing and then Stasi and her did the weird telepathy thing that all women can seem to do with one another. Come to think of it, it was kind of like how Stasi and I were about 99% of the time.

"Bueller? Bueller? Bueller?" I asked as the three of started walking to catch up with Ricky. Well, two of us walked. Jazz slithered on her tail. "Oh come on."

"You're not the one to be self-conscious now, are you Chris?" Jazz giggled.

"I'm not! I'm just..."

"Competitive." Stasi finished. "You're just competitive. In truth, lyubov, yes, Ricky is stronger. But that's just who he is because of his species. Besides, you're not the one that has to carry everything."

I made a noise of indignation, which was promptly silenced when Stasi placated me with a quick kiss. She got it right on the nose (as usual). I was an extremely competitive person. It was a competitive spirit that was forged from years of organized sports. I hated losing more than I loved winning. When I wasn't winning at anything, ranging from video games, to playing tabletop board games with anybody, I got super upset.

Stasi was the exception, though. She always just knew how to get me to realize the game for what it was. A game. Something trivial in the greater span of things.

I squeezed her hand.

There were far more important things to do than to blow a gasket because I was losing at Monopoly.

We entered the lobby and took the elevator up to Lucy's apartment. It was a bit crowded and muggy with graffiti and mild vandalism adorning the walls. The ride itself wasn't as smooth as I'd wanted it to be, the entire damn thing groaning under Ricky's weight and making us wonder if it'd come crashing to Earth any second. Finally, the elevator arrived on Lucy's floor and the uneven doors slid open, revealing the hallway. We stepped off the elevator. I had forgotten which exact room that Lucy lived in, so I let Stasi and Jazz guide us.

The hallway was worse than the elevator. The carpet was ripped up and in some places, completely gone, and the paint was peeling off of the wooden doors that we all passed. Ricky seemed to be the only one paying any real heed to it, though. Well, I was too. I mean, I grew up in a cozy, but nice house with all the amenities I could want.

This was humbling.

"Here we are!" Jazz announced, coming to a door. "The humble abode of Lucille Bohannon!"

"Are you sure?" Ricky asked.

"Of course I'm sure." Jazz replied, shooting him a dirty look before knocking loudly on the door. "Lucy... oh Luuuuccccy!"

There was movement behind the door, the pattering of lots of footsteps coming up to the other end. The deadbolt made a noise as it unlocked and the door opened, catching on the chain. A stormy grey eye stared at us through the crack.

"Wha-.. what are you guys doing here?" Lucy asked.

"Throwing a party." Ricky said. "Are you going to let us in?"

"Is this the I'm-Not-Going-to-Prom Sympathy party?" Lucy replied dryly.

"No, this is the I-Have-A-Damn-Pizza-Burning-My-Hands party." Ricky snickered.

"Scaletta's pizza?" Lucy asked.

"With white sauce and chicken. Your favorite."

"I guess it's party time," Lucy said, closing the door on us and taking off the chain. The door swung open and Lucy skittered out of the way. She must've just gotten out of the shower. Her silvery hair was laden with moisture. She self-consciously gestured to the tiny space that made up her living room. "Make yourself at home. Mom!"

"Yes, dear?" A voice called from the bedroom.

"I have friends over!"

"What kind of frien-..." An older version of Lucy skittered out from the bedroom. "Oh, hello! What a pleasant surprise!"

"Hi, Ms. Bohannon." I waved. "I hope you don't mind us intruding."

"Oh, it's no problem at all, Chris!" Ms. Bohannon replied. "It's so good to see you again. Please do call me Stephanie, though." She sniffed the air, raising her eyebrow. "Is that white sauce pizza I smell?"

"Yep! We decided to bring pizza. There's enough for everyone."

"Great! Looks like I won't be having to cook dinner tonight. Jasmine, Anastasia, it's so good to see you two again. I swear, you two get more beautiful every day. Now, I don't think I've met you before.."