CCTV in the Form of a Lovesick Cop

Buster was awoken, like every morning, by the soft snoring of Valentina in the bed in the opposite corner. Except today, Buster wasn’t in a happy mood. He had an internal clock that awoke him each day at six thirty am, so he could begin early and have a whole day to find jobs. But today...Buster sighed, rubbing his face without getting up. Today was the first of September – and school was back on. Six hours wasted on hearing the shit teachers at community college drone on that he could spend actually earning money. One more year, Buster reminded himself, then its goodbye compulsory education. He sat up in his too-small bed, stretched and reached out to pull the rag-tag, patchwork curtain away from the window above his bed. The weather reflected his mood – it was a grey, dull morning, rain drizzling in short bursts. It was still warm enough but Buster gave September a week before he had to dig out his old coat. He let the curtain flop back in place over the dreary landscape and stood, rolling his shoulders. The room he was renting half-half with Val wasn’t all that small. It held their two beds with a long, short cupboard in between. Val had hauled it from some dump once upon a time. Two of the cupboards were missing, but the other one and the two compartments on either side were pretty useful. A single vintage lamp stood in the middle – it was broken and they didn’t have money for pointless things like light-bulbs, but it did add a touch of homeliness to the room. Jamie had nicked it for Buster’s birthday last year, from a garage sale.

Buster shuffled over and prodded Val with a finger. She grumbled a curse word at him and rolled over, ‘’come on, Val. We need to go to school.’’

Upon receiving no response, Buster shrugged and stretched. From tomorrow he’d start his 5am newspaper deliveries, but he’d long ago realised that first days of school were difficult enough without it. He dug around in his side of the cupboard and pulled out a worn black jumper with elbow patches. He tugged it on, ran a hand through his hair and yanked on the jeans he had ditched on the floor the day before. They were still relatively clean and he didn’t want to waste money on the Laundromat down the street. In a sleepy stupor, Buster shuffled over to the other end of the room where the ‘wash space’ was. It consisted of an old cabinet, holding a bowl and a cup with two toothbrushes. Buster took his and squeezed out the last sad dregs of toothpaste onto it, leaving none for Val. He opened the window and the chilly morning air woke him up. He half-leaned out, waving at DeeDee, who was waddling out of the building back to her weed van with a cup of herbal tea. He brushed his teeth half-heartedly with the other hand, making a mental note of what he had to buy after school and realising there was no way he had enough money for it all. He had to pay rent at the end of the week, and if you took that away, he was left with barely enough money for food. If he decided to eat instant noodles. Or maybe a packet of bread would do the trick. He could, technically, just live of tea. How long did it take to starve to death?

Buster tossed his toothbrush back into the cup and picked up the plastic bottle they re-filled with water every few days. He took a gulp, swished it around his mouth and spat it out through the window, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. He’d have to take some liberties with shopping this week. No toothpaste, no breakfast. He could do without that. He’d need some energy for afternoon jobs. Maybe he’d get a six-pack of energy drinks with the bread, then. Buster swore in his head. He had to get a new pair of shoes; his trainers had holes in the soles and it would be rain season soon. What was worse, starvation or gangrene? Buster clenched his teeth as he pulled said shoes onto his feet. He’d think of something. He was a resourceful guy.

As he was leaving the room, Buster grabbed the group’s baby – the old, outdated MP3 player. He had been fiddling with it the previous night, setting a new playlist for the Crypt, since pretty soon the new university students would come pouring in. Now he found his secret weapon that he used to wake Valentina up. He put the national anthem on, pulled the sound as loud as he could and put the MP3 on the wash basin. Val groaned and swore at him, hiding her head under her pillow – she would have to get up to turn the MP3 off eventually. Buster grinned at his pissed off roommate and slipped from the room.

‘’Morning,’’ Gus said, leaving his room at the same time. His was tiny, barely big enough to fit a tiny bed on which Gus curled up and his own wash-space. Gus went to the local high school with Val and Jamie, so he was in his school uniform. He had once upon a time attended a private academy. When he bought his school uniform, he had been so stuck for money he’d gone for a couple sizes too big, so he never had to buy another one. It still hung off him like a sheet.

‘’Hey,’’ Buster put an arm around Gus’ shoulders and gave the sleepy boy a quick hug, ‘’sleep well?’’

Gus hummed affirmative as they started down the mouldy stairs down three flights, to the coffee shop, ‘’I hate school,’’ he mumbled.

‘’Same,’’ Buster said. They didn’t have money for stuff like bags and pencil cases, so they usually nicked them off teachers or other students.

‘’I wish I went community college with you and Art. It seems so much more relaxed.’’

Buster snorted, ‘’trust me, you don’t. With high school, at least you can do something with your life. Art is probably always going to be a stripper and I’ll croak before I’m twenty.’’

‘’Don’t say that!’’ Gus protested, aghast, as they entered the coffee shop through the back doors.

Jamie was already there. His school uniform was, in turn, too small. His shirt was faded to a piss-grey, his jumper frayed and barely reaching his bellybutton. Jamie didn’t give two shits. He sat by the counter of the coffee shop, drinking orange juice and chatting with his co-worker, Toby. Now that school was back on and students were pouring into the university a few streets down, all places gained more workers, even the Crypt. Toby was a freelance photographer with shaggy brown hair and stubble but usually he was a pretty dope guy – Jamie refused to let him anywhere near the coffee shop in the summer, taking on as many shifts as he could. But when school started he had no choice but to let Toby do his shifts when he was gone.

‘’Mornin’, Augustin. Mihael.’’

Buster rolled his eyes and Gus smiled. Toby had a weird habit of calling everyone by their full first names, ‘’hey, Tobias,’’ Buster said, finally giving him a smile as he slid in next to Jamie. ‘’I see Jamie has finally let you come back to work.’’

‘’James is like a pit-bull when it comes to his coffee shop,’’ Tobias said with a dopey grin, beginning to make Gus and Buster tea, ‘’so territorial.’’

Jamie flipped him off, too tired to think of a retort. Buster glanced around. There were two regulars in the corners of the coffee shop, and one looked asleep. There was a sound like a thunder above Buster’s head and a second later a pissed-off Val appeared in the coffee shop, ‘’Mornin’, Valentina!’’ Toby said brightly.

Val stormed up to Buster and grabbed him by his jumper, yanking him forward so they were practically Eskimo kissing, ‘’play God Save the Queen one more time to wake me up,’’ she hissed, ‘’and I’ll rip off your elbow patches and stuff them up your ass.’’

‘’Whoa, so graphic so early in the morning,’’ came a fond voice.

‘’Hey, Art,’’ Buster said with a smile as Val let go of his jumper, kissing her teeth.

‘’Arthur!’’ Toby called brightly, ‘’coffee?’’

‘’Yeah, please. Haven’t seen you in a while,’’ Art said, sitting on a vacant stool. He always came to the building in the mornings to pick Buster up, so they could walk to community college together.  

‘’James wouldn’t let me close,’’ Toby chuckled.

The group received their drinks, which they sipped quickly. They didn’t have the time nor the resources for breakfast. After a while, Raphael came in, ‘’yo, two things,’’ he said, ‘’one,’’ he pointed to Jamie, ‘’your cop is idling on the curb.’’

Jamie groaned, ‘’he’s not my cop. And I have no idea why he’s here.’’

‘’He can probably smell DeeDee’s weed all the way up at the front,’’ Buster said.

‘’Or it’s because you’re mates or some shit,’’ Val yawner.

Toby’s eyes widened, ‘’no shit?’’

Jamie waved the comment off, ‘’long story.’’

‘’Two,’’ Raphael smacked an opened envelope onto the counter, ‘’why does no one check the mail round here?’’

‘’What’s that?’’ Gus leaned over the envelope.

Art winced, guessing, ‘’is it the council notice about the building again?’’

Raphael nodded. Gus looked at them wide-eyed, ‘’but this is the second one in the last three months!’’

‘’Don’t worry, Gus,’’ Raphael sank his hand into Gus’ soft, light brown hair, ‘’they won’t actually knock it down.’’

‘’But they keep saying it’s a safety hazard!’’

‘’It’s been a safety hazard for years,’’ Jamie said matter-of-factly, ‘’they only care now because the street is getting developed and our building is ugly. Don’t worry, it will blow over,’’ he chugged the rest of his orange juice and stood, ‘’come on, gang. Let’s get our education.’’

*~*~*

Art and Buster got to their classroom right before the bell sounded. The community college building was located along the park-gone-wild that extended from the end of Bay Street all the way down to the city centre. The building was along the forlorn greenery, about thirty minutes from the last building on Bay Street. It was a miserable, squat thing with a couple classrooms, an unused basketball court and a shitty cafeteria. Buster and Art slid into the last bench, saying hurried hellos to all their classmates that hadn’t overdosed or gone AWOL over summer, right before the headmaster, a man as grey and miserable as the building he operated, came in, ‘’I hope you all had a great summer,’’ he said in a voice that sounded two seconds away from a yawn. The college was under-staffed so apart from being a headmaster, he was also the math and science teacher. His voice alone often put Art to sleep, ‘’as you all probably know, the werewolf reservoir has been opened and our community has welcomed many competent, intelligent members into its ranks,’’ he yawned for real and continued, ‘’one of the professors from the university, a wolf, has decided to contribute to the community. Aside from doing lectures at the university, he will also be coming in three times a week to do English Literature lessons with you all, free of charge. I hope you appreciate that as much as we all do.’’

No one said anything. Most were in that classroom because it was compulsory. To them, a subject like English Literature made little difference to their lives. The headmaster checked his watch and gave a quick note, ‘’he will be here soon,’’ he promised and left to attend his own lesson.

‘’Probably some old fart like that guy, Shakespeare,’’ Buster said, uninterested. The class chuckled.

Art grinned and jumped up onto his desk, extending his arm in front of him, much to the amusement of the class, ‘’Romeo, Romeo, where are thou, Romeo-‘’

‘’Deny thy father and refuse thy name,’’ cut in a voice from the doors, low and soothing, and Art faltered, hand dropping, as all turned to watch the new teacher come in, ‘’or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,’’ the teacher continued casually as he walked into the classroom and set his books and folders down on the desk, ‘’‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy; what’s in a name?’’

Art took a second to process what happened, stunned, ‘’I have no idea what you just said,’’ he said finally, ‘’but my name is Art.’’

‘’Well, Art,’’ the teacher said with a faintly amused smile, ‘’would you mind getting off the desk?’’

Art jumped down obediently and finally looked at the man properly. He looked...well, like a university professor, but much younger than Art would have expected. Art wouldn’t have given him more than twenty five, twenty six years. He was clearly a man of good breed, with pale skin and beautiful bone structure that gave his face a royal quality. He had a slim, straight nose and icy-blue eyes. They were warm, but incredibly light, almost glowing. His hair was pitch black and slicked back, not by a gel or anything, but just by some law of physics. The man wore a suit – an actual suit! Art had never seen anyone wear a suit in the college, but it suited him.

Art glanced up and saw that the man was staring at him, his pale blue eyes boring into him. He could have sworn he saw them flash gold for a moment, before the man addressed him again, ‘’and, for the record, it’s ‘wherefore art thou, Romeo’, but you don’t need to know that, because I will not be teaching you poetry,’’ he nodded at Art to sit down and the pale haired boy slid into his chair next to Buster, still slightly stunned, ‘’my name is Jed March,’’ the teacher introduced himself, ‘’and I won’t really be teaching you English Literature, because I doubt you need that kind of thing at this point of your life. Instead, I’ll be teaching you how to write. CVs, university applications, job applications, resumes, letters, professional emails... things you will actually need,’’ his voice was velvety smooth, almost hypnotising. It had the opposite effect to the headmaster’s – instead of putting to sleep, Jed March’s voice made people sit in complete silence and actually listen.

Art had never heard his class so utterly silent.

Jed March looked at the class with a half-smile, ‘’let’s get started.’’

*~*~*

After school, Art and Buster split ways. Art went back to his spider infested basement room under the car garage a few streets down, to catch some sleep before his shift at the Crypt. Buster, on the other hand, wandered the streets, racking his brain for any sort of job he could pull out of his ass at the present time. He was a bright guy and he could do anything and everything – he found jobs when he needed them, but he usually needed time to do it. He weekly scanned all his usual spots for notices about jobs and scheduled them in the weeks to come. But he’d not been this tight with money for a very long while. His thoughts led him all the way to the city centre, which was the smack opposite of Bay Street – it was kind of hard to image both places were within half an hour walk of each other. Bay Street was being renovated into a pretty, calm neighbourhood with a park at its back. The city centre was a loud rush of fumes, shops and cars. There was a train station and a high street with all the big shops. Buster kind of hated going there but if he was going to find a job in that moment, it was the place to look.

After two hours of asking and checking out notices, coming up empty, Buster was resting. He was leaning against the fences bridging off the streets form the pavements when he saw him.

He saw him mostly because he was tall as a tree and radiated privilege. He looked a bit like a celebrity, if Buster was to be honest. Judging by his dark eyebrows, his mop of silvery-blond hair was bleached; it was styled in a way that made it looked wind-blown without actually making it messy. From where he stood, Buster couldn’t tell the man’s exact eye colour, but they looked bright. He had delicate, elegant features and skin as pale as porcelain. He wore a silver earring in one ear and had an actual fashionable scarf wrapped around his pale, long neck. Damn, he’s pretty, Buster thought, followed by, damn, he probably has a shitload of cash in his wallet. There it was – his job. The thing that would mean he wouldn’t have to starve or get gangrene. The pretty rich boy standing apart from the crowd, waiting for the green light to cross the street, was going to be his bread, instant ramen and new shoes. Buster pushed himself off the rail.

As casually as he could in this situation, Buster made his way over to the crowd, pushing his way till he was close enough to his target. He didn’t like stealing but he wasn’t against it – he knew what desperation drove people to do. Buster glanced at the man’s outfit. A nicely fitted blazer, a white shirt undone at the top and fashionable jeans – ah, bingo! A wallet stuffed into his back pocket, attached to a silver chain that ran to one of the hooks at the man’s belt. Buster had nicked enough wallets to know how to undo those chains with one hand, which is what he did now, keeping one eye on the lights across the street.

The moment that red man went green, his chance was gone.

Meanwhile, the wolf he was trying to steal from was perfectly aware of what he was doing. If he had been human, he probably wouldn’t have noticed, but as a wolf it was easy to pick out the boy’s nervous smell, to feel the brush of his fingers against his jeans. Normally, the wolf would have reacted, but now he didn’t move, sniffing the air gently. He could tell apart each note of the boy’s smell, like separate ribbons of taste in a good wine. Heat, sunlight – things that shouldn’t have a smell but which clung to the boy. Fresh air, tinged with salt, like the boy had grown up near an ocean and the smell remained soaked into his skin. A manufactured sweetness, like fizzy drinks or candy. Sweet nonetheless. The wolf glanced sideways at the boy, just to see what he looked like – thick, messy brown hair, brown eyes, tan, freckled skin and a nose that had been broken a couple of times. Not bad. And then another smell hit the wolf’s nose. A different smell, so clear and obvious.

Mate.

He let the boy take his wallet.

*~*~*

Jamie was irritated beyond belief.

He’d come to the coffee shop after a pointless day at school and relieved Toby behind the counter. From where he stood, making coffees, he could very clearly see Diego Delarosa’s car parked out front. Didn’t this man have work? Jamie was growing agitated. The car had been parked there as long as Jamie’s shift had lasted, maybe even since the morning – it made him nervous and, if word went round that a cop was hanging around the last apartment on Bay Street the turn up at the Start of the School Year party the Crypt was having that night would be poor. When the doors of the car finally opened and Delarosa stepped out, Jamie was almost relieved. He watched with narrowed blue eyes as the officer walked across the pavement and into the coffee shop. There was no queue at this time, so he went straight up to the counter. He was in his proper uniform this time round, his black hair shaggy, pale brown eyes amused as they took Jamie in.

‘’I don’t know what you think you’re doing,’’ Jamie hissed when Delarosa reached the counter, ‘’but you better stop. Patrolling my building won’t make this fucking mate thing work between us, you piece of shit, so stop getting on my nerves.’’

Delarosa’s lips quirked up in a smile, ‘’I was just going to order a coffee.’’

Jamie swallowed his words, the rage bubbling up in him. Smug bastard, ‘’what kind?’’ he asked through clenched teeth. He wished he had rat poison around so he could mix it in.

‘’What kind do you have?’’ Delarosa leaned on the counter causally.

Jamie snapped, ‘’don’t you have somewhere to be?’’

‘’Day off,’’ Delarosa gave him an exaggerated grin.

‘’Ah, I can see you’re a very interesting man. Your hobby is hanging around run-down buildings, pissing off baristas.’’

‘’Amongst others,’’ Delarosa looked more and more amused. Now that he was talking more, Jamie couldn’t help but listen in on the smoky, deep quality of his voice, ‘’you got a name?’’

‘’Yeah, and your mom was screaming it last night,’’ Jamie said automatically.

Delarosa snorted with genuine humoured surprise, ‘’young then, are you?’’ he cocked his head and Jamie shivered at the way the man looked at him, ‘’seventeen?’’ the man guessed, drawing out the ‘s’.

‘’Sixteen,’’ Jamie corrected him on default and gestured to a table in the corner, ‘’that’s where all the other paedophiles sit. Please, make yourself comfortable.’’

‘’I’m only twenty five,’’ Delarosa assured.

Jamie made a big show of counting on his fingers, ‘’hmm, nine years difference. No, yeah, that shouldn’t be a problem,’’ he said sarcastically.

Something glinted in the man’s eyes, ‘’you don’t choose who your mate is.’’

‘’Yeah, clearly, since I wouldn’t have chosen you in a million years.’’

Something else flickered in the wolf’s eyes and this time it was easier to pin-point: hurt. But the smile remained in place, ‘’tell you what,’’ Diego Delarosa said, ‘’tell me your name and I’ll take my coffee and go back to my car.’’

Jamie’s eyes narrowed, ‘’I’ll tell you my name if you skip the coffee, get in your car and go back to your station.’’

‘’Deal.’’

‘’Jamie.’’

Delarosa’s eyes brightened, ‘’Jamie. James?’’

‘’Jamie,’’ the blond hissed. He hated being called James.

‘’Jamie what?’’

Jamie hesitated, ‘’...Jamie Jansen.’’

Delarosa hummed in interest, ‘’you’re Dutch?’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Jamie said wearily.

‘’You don’t sound like it.’’

‘’I was born here,’’ Jamie grew irritated and waved the officer away, ‘’alright, you know my name. Now scram.’’

Diego Delarosa raised his hands to shoulder level in mock surrender and smiled, ‘’I’ll catch you later, Jamie Jansen.’’

It sounded like a promise that only fuelled Jamie’s irritation. He had no doubt that his persistent mate would return the next day.

Val came in through the back doors, ‘’yo, can I have a-‘’

‘’Watch the till,’’ Jamie said distractedly, swerving round her and going through the back, all the way to the back yard. He jogged up to DeeDee’s van and knocked.

The old woman opened the doors, peering at Jamie through her sunglasses, a cloud of smoke billowing from the van as she opened the doors, ‘’ah, Jamie, my dear!’’ she said fondly, showing off her missing teeth, ‘’I was hot-boxing the trailer and listening to Dr Dre. You want in?’’

Jamie jabbed a thumb behind him, ‘’I need to get back to my shift,’’ he pointed at DeeDee, ‘’and I need you to go off the radar for a while.’’

DeeDee frowned her wrinkly forehead, ‘’why?’’

‘’There’s a cop going round the block, sniffing. If he finds you, shit could get messy.’’

DeeDee shook her head, ‘’it’s bad for business.’’

‘’Come on, Dee. Just for a few days.’’

DeeDee reached out and pinched Jamie’s cheek affectionately, ‘’I’m not shutting my farm. Those plants are my babies. I’d rather get arrested,’’ she said with finality and slammed the doors to the van shut.

Jamie groaned.

*~*~*

Buster was back home an hour, maybe an hour and a half, when the wolf tracked him down. He had finished filling in Jamie on his day after Jamie filled him in on his little run in with the cop. The day was slow for customer, so they just sat there, drinking tea and juice. Buster had the wallet tucked into his back pocket, ready to get rid of it – he’d left the credit cards inside, because they were easy to track. He’d taken out all the cash and...and the ID. He hadn’t told Jamie that part. He’d taken out the ID of the man he robbed – twenty year old Gideon Reis – and he couldn’t bring himself to put the ID back. He’d just stared and stared at the small ID picture of the man and eventually he’d stuffed the plastic card under his pillow.

When the bell by the doors chimed and in the next instance Gideon Reis slid onto the stool three down from Buster’s, the thief froze. Gideon wasn’t looking in his direction but he looked incredibly out of place, what with his nice clothes and perfect hair. Buster tensed up, turned his head to the side and rested his temple against his hand. Shit, had the man followed him? Had he realised Buster stole his wallet? Or was this all some messed up coincidence? Buster desperately wanted to slip away but he didn’t want to look suspicious. Plus, if he turned and Gideon happened to look, he’d seen his own wallet sticking out of the back pocket of Buster’s jeans, ‘’what can I get you?’’ Jamie asked in an emotionless voice.

‘’A latte.’’

Buster’s whole body reacted to the velvety texture of Gideon’s voice. Shit. He had to get out of there, fast.

‘’You can have coffee, tea or hot chocolate,’’ Jamie deadpanned.

‘’I suppose you don’t have earl grey?’’ Gideon sighed in annoyance.

Jamie glared at him, ‘’I suppose your chauffeur can’t take you down the block to Starbucks, Mr. Edgy White  Boy,’’ he snapped, ‘’now you want the bloody tea or not, you tree?’’

Gideon kissed his teeth softly and waved an elegant hand, ‘’fine. Tea,’’ Buster watched from the corner of his eye as Gideon produced a second wallet and slapped a fiver on the counter, ‘’there. Keep the change.’’

‘’Don’t need charity,’’ Jamie snarled.

‘’Then try and not look like a charity case,’’ Gideon snapped and Jamie flushed, shutting up. Irritated and losing his composure, fast, the wolf swirled round to face Buster, ‘’and you,’’ he snapped and Buster flinched, ‘’how long are you going to pretend you don’t recognise me.’’

Slowly, Buster lowered his hand and, pale, turned to the wolf, ‘’u-um...’’

Gideon stared at him with burning eyes, mouth pursued, dark eyebrows drawn. He looked like he was contemplating telling Buster something but eventually he straightened and that look disappeared from his eyes. Instead, he extended an expectant hand, ‘’my wallet?’’

‘’What do you need two for?’’ Buster blurted.

Gideon gave him a hard stare, ‘’wallet and apology.’’

Buster slid off the stool reluctantly and fished out his wallet from his back pocket, setting it in his hand. Their fingers brushed, ‘’s-sorry.’’

Gideon pocketed his wallet, sighing as if he was highly in convened, ‘’I suppose you stole all the cash,’’ before Buster could protest (though he had), Gideon waved a hand, ‘’whatever. I don’t care,’’ he wrinkled his nose, ‘’you should put it into refurbishing this place. It’s a dump.’’

‘’Here’s your tea,’’ Jamie said with malice, really wishing he had the rat poison as he set Gideon’s tea in front of him.

Gideon glanced down at the tea, then at Jamie, gave an amused, high and mighty huff and got up, leaving without a ward.

‘’Jamie, don’t throw the cu-‘’

‘’BASTARD!’’ Jamie roared, sending the cup sailing across the room. The tea splashed on the floor and the cup shattered.

*~*~*

Art arrived the latest, a little after seven when Jamie had closed the coffee shop. He had the job of prepping the Crypt while Jamie caught about two and a half hours of sleep before the club opened. But something was different when Art arrived in the coffee shop. Everyone was gathered downstairs, and in the middle of the room stood...

‘’Are you following me?’’ Art frowned at Jed March.

Professor March inclined his head, still in his suit, ‘’good evening, Art.’’

‘’Yeah. Hi,’’ Art blinked, ‘’so...are you following me?’’

Jed smiled with amusement, ‘’no, of course not. I own the building.’’

Art gaped, ‘’you’re the owner?’’ for as long as all of them had been in the last building on Bay Street, they had not seen the owner. They had a grumpy, uptight, old landlady; Nicky owned A Touch of Ink; Tamika was the boss of the coffee shop; Song was the head florist upstairs.

‘’I am,’’ Jed nodded, ‘’I’ve decided to check up on the place, since the notice went up about the building getting demolished.’’

‘’It’s not getting demolished,’’ Art said quickly.

‘’Hmm,’’ was all Jed March said, ‘’we’ll see what can be done,’’ Art realised he must have been there for a while, discussing whatever, because he was now ready to leave, ‘’Art, would you accompany me to my car?’’

‘’Um...sure,’’ Art frowned at the strange request but walked after his teacher outside. While the morning had been chilly, the evening still held the last of the summer’s warmth.

Jed stopped before a decent car, though Art had no idea what type it was. He turned, ‘’maybe I did follow you, a little,’’ he conceded, that amused glint still in his eye. As if he was admiring an interesting biological specimen.

‘’Why?’’

Jed sighed, though not unhappily, and leaned against his car, crossing his arms over his chest, ‘’it seems,’’ he said slowly, ‘’that you are my mate.’’

Art gaped at him, ‘’wha...how? I don’t feel anything.’’

‘’That’s because you’re human,’’ Jed explained patiently, ‘’I felt it as soon as I saw you. I can tell by your scent, too,’’ he chuckled, ‘’but don’t worry. I don’t plan to act on it. You are, after all, very young. And my student. It wouldn’t be wise.’’

Art stared at him, ‘’isn’t that...against your nature?’’

Jed chuckled again, ‘’people defy their nature all the time. If you try hard, you find it’s not that hard.’’

‘’Ouch,’’ Art said with an uncertain smile, thought he felt a little relieved. The idea of being tied to a wolf, and a man at that... ‘’you make it sound like I’m not a very good catch.’’

‘’Oh, no, I’d say you’re quite a good one,’’ Jed said calmly, ‘’a very good one, actually. Simply not for me,’’ he took car keys from his pocket and opened his car, ‘’I will see you at school. Goodnight, Art.’’

‘’Night, Mr March,’’ Art said.

Jed climbed into his car and drove off.

And that was that.

*~*~*

It was late night.

Val was snoring her head off.

Buster couldn’t sleep. By the light of the moon, he was staring at the plastic square in his hand. Gideon’s ID. He kept admiring the small picture in the corner. He really was beautiful. Buster wasn’t gay, by any means. So he was very confused as to why he couldn’t throw the ID away. Very, very confused.