Decisions Ch. 12

I nearly felt sleep overtake me until she spoke.

"Hey, lyubov..." Stasi whispered.

"Yeah?" I asked, opening my eyes.

"What time is it?"

"Don't know." I mumbled, closing my eyes again. "Check my phone."

I totally forgot that I had a watch on.

"Where is it?" Stasi asked, looking over me.

"Night stand," I mumbled sleepily. "Charging."

"Oh, I think I see it. Let me jus-.. BLYAT!" She cried, dropping my phone back down on the nightstand.

I opened my eyes in alarm, looking at her. "What?"

"Why is your screen so bright?!"

Chapter 2:

The large, imposing building was old and modern at the same time. On the exterior, it was an unassuming brick building, something that wouldn't have been out of place at the bad part of town. It actually looked quite decrepit. On the interior, it was sleek and modern, with shiny marble floors, bright headache inducing LED lights, flatscreen TVs, and even kiosks to charge your phone at.

It was like the building was struggling to find it's identity, a tug-of-war between the old world and the new.

I can relate to that.

Our footsteps resounded off the marble floor as we stepped into the building. There was a line queueing up out the door into the boardroom. It was busy. No doubt why. A large amount of the community was here at the San Francisco School District Board Meeting. I felt Stasi squeeze my hand and I looked at her nervously.

"You got this, lyubov." She whispered. "Easy."

"Easy." I concurred, taking in a deep breath. Anton and my parents always said that I was a pretty gifted public speaker. I wasn't so sure of that. When I spoke in front of crowds of people, I got nervous. It felt like I was being squeezed in a tube. That the air was being forced from my lungs and I couldn't move or speak.

Was that how Stasi felt all the time when it came to strangers?

"Christopher!" Anton greeted, waving at us from a spot near the kiosk. He must've been charging his phone. He's in his sharp black suit. I wasn't sure why, but black was just a color that seemed to work on every vampire. Especially my vampire. It made him look intimidating, manly, and strong. He patted me on the shoulder. "How are you?"

"A bit nervous," I admitted.

"It's alright to be nervous," He said sympathetically. "I'm nervous every time I take the podium at the Coven. Do you have notes?"

"Yes, papa." Stasi answered, holding up her bag. "Oni v moyey sumke."

"Good," He said, embracing us both. "Everybody here is so proud of you. I saw Lucy, Jasmine, and Ricardo near the front of the line."

"Where's mama, though?" Stasi asked.

"She's in li-.."

"Excuse me," An old lamia hissed, slithering up to us. She looked at us with her slitted eyes, examining us. "Are you Christopher Williams and Anastasia Sokolov? The Belcourt students?"

"Yes, they are." Anton said, turning to face the woman. His fangs elongated slightly as he stepped in front of us protectively. "Can I help you?"

"No," The lamia hissed. "I just wanted to say, give them hell. Carpet bomb the school board. Don't let them take our rights."

"We'll do the best we can, ma'am." I said around Anton.

"We promise." Stasi added.

"Good," The lamia said, nodding before slithering back to her spot in line. "Oh, I was born way before my time..."

"That was strange." Anton mused, watching the retreating back of the lamia. "Do any of you know her?"

"No. She kind of looks like Jazz." I said.

"You can't say she looks like Jazz because she's a lamia. That's racist." Stasi pointed out. "Isn't that what we're fighting against?"

"No, she seriously looked like Jazz!"

"How so?"

"Well, she has the tail-.." I began.

"So, because she has the same tail as Jazz, she automatically looks like Jazz?" Stasi asked incredulously, the corners of her mouth twitching in a smile. She placed her hands on her hips. "That sounds a bit racist to me."

"I-..." I began, thinking of a way to reply. Some witty remark or sharp comeback. But, I couldn't. Even though I knew she was just joking (because A, that lamia really looked like Jazz and B, because Ii'm not racist!), she had me dead to rights. "I love you."

Her pale, regal cheeks immediately reddened and the faux-hard look on her face softened. She rolled her crystal blue eyes, brushing a stray strand of raven hair away. "I love you too," She huffed. "But, that was still racist."

"Here, take this." Anton said, handing me a green card.

"What's this?" I asked, looking at it. Stasi peered at it around my arm.

"That, Christopher, is a speaker card. People who wish to speak at the meeting hold onto it and the board calls them up for their quick three minute presentation."

Wait... three minutes?!

"Three minutes?!" Stasi sputtered. "Papa, did you just say three minutes?"

"Da, solnyshko." He replied, looking at us curiously. "Did you not know that?"

We both shook our heads and Anton paled as white as a sheet. I suddenly felt a dull throb at the back of my head. We prepped our case thinking we'd be able to talk for an unlimited amount of time and we only get three minutes?! "You'll have questions for an unlimited amounts of time, I suppose." He said. "Try and cram as much of your case as you can during that time. Start thinking of what you both are going to say. Impromptu it."

I nervously spat out a reply, squeaking out an okay. I suddenly felt way out of depth and overwhelmed. I was a kid! A kid! In high school! I should've been worried about school, about college, about what I was going to eat for dinner. Stasi and I shouldn't be here! We should be home, playing video games until we passed out in each other's arms. I shouldn't be here deciding the future fate of the school's werewolf population with my shuffled notes.

My eyes darted for a restroom to go vomit in but I felt something cool trickling in my hand. Something cold and soft. The feeling interlocked with my fingers and I turned my head, losing myself in those huge pools of crystal blue.

"You're okay, lyubov." My best friend whispered quietly into my ear so Anton couldn't hear. "We're okay. We got this."

Us against the world. Hand in hand. Never letting go. With her by my side, I can do anything.

"Okay," I whispered, nodding my head pathetically. "Okay."

She gave me a heart melting fangy smile, pecking me on the cheek. I immediately began to feel better.

I can do this. We can do this. It's just like a football game, right? We prepared for it. We spent days memorizing testimonies, statistics, data, everything. We can think of whatever we can at the top of our heads. All we had to do was go out there and execute to the best of our ability. I took a deep breath, trying to calm that feeling in my stomach.

You know that feeling? The feeling that you want to throw up, but you know you can't throw up, because all you had to eat for the entire day was a stale croissant from Costco? Yeah, that feeling.

You can play football or speak in front of large crowds or do whatever it is you do for years, but that feeling will never, ever go away. If it did, I knew that I'd miss it, because that feeling is the only true way you'll ever know if you're truly passionate about what you're doing. That feeling is born out of the fear of losing and the want of winning.

The doors to the boardroom opened and we made our way into the line. We didn't want to cut so we simply stayed at the back, shuffling forward like zombies. Stasi and I were tightly holding onto each other's hand, as if afraid the other person would disappear into nothingness at any given time. Well, I was holding onto her simply because I wanted/needed to. She was holding onto me as if she was afraid I'd disappear.

After so many incidents at public events like these, who could blame her?

"Chris? Annie? Is that you?" A girl asked as we got to the front of the line. She was wearing a black T-shirt that said 'DOWN WITH D-TOSS' while holding onto a clipboard. "Oh my gosh, it is you!"

"Hey Emily." Stasi greeted, giving the werewolf a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"Here to show my support for the cause," She said proudly, gesturing to the t-shirt. "Alot of students from Belcourt are here. We're sitting near the front to show unity and support to get this decree blocked. There's some free seats still! I'm sure some of the freshman will even give up their seats for you two."

"You two go on ahead," Anton said. "I will find your mother and your parents, Chris."

"Okay, papa. Spasibo."

"Da. Spasibo, Anton."

"Pozhaluysta." Anton replied, walking inside.

"Oh wait, sir!" Emily yelped, holding up the clipboard in front of Anton. "Are you willing to give me two minutes of your time to sign this paper? It's a registration sheet for people who want to support the Coven and register as part of the party. You'll get a pin, bumper sticker, and even a t-shirt! You'll also get newsletters regarding our latest acti-.."

"Dochka," Anton said gently, patting her on the shoulder. "Are you eighteen?"

"Just turned." She said proudly. "Registered the day of my birthday."

"You make us all proud." Anton rumbled in his booming accent, his smile one of genuine pride.

"Thank you, sir." Emily replied, her chest swelling with happiness. "But, will you please register to join the Coven? It's one of the fastest growing third parties here in the United Stat-.."

"Find me after the meeting," Anton said. "I promise I will talk about joining."

"Ah... yes, sir."

"Have fun, you three." He waved, heading to the back of the room to where our families were waiting while Stasi and I tried to stifle laughter at the irony.

******

The board room resembled more of an auditorium and a theater than anything else. Except, rather than a stage, there was instead a panel of seven men and two women, all dressed in sharp business suits. I scanned every one of them, looking at them as we walked into the room. I didn't recognize any of them... except one person.

Him. Where had I seen him before?

I wracked my brain, trying to remember.

"Stasi," I murmured.

"Hm?" She turned her head towards me.

"Who's that?" I asked.

"Who?"

"Him. No, don't make it obvi-... and, now he's looking at us." I muttered.

"Lyubov, wasn't he at the hockey championship with his family?"

"Was he?"

"Da. I think that was him." She shrugged as we sat down at a pair of empty seats. She squeezed my hand in a comforting manner. "Are you alright, lyubov?"

"I have a bit of a headache," I admitted. The loud noises of the people in attendance, as well as the bright lights were a killer combination. It felt like someone was lightly trying to drill into the back of my head. It wasn't debilitating, but it was still enough to be uncomfortable.

"We'll go straight home right after you speak," Stasi promised. "We are not staying one second."

"Okay," I conceded. "That sounds like a plan." We chatted with each other and people watched as the auditorium filled up. More than that, we analyzed the board members. They seemed surprised at such a large turnout of people. I guess they didn't think that we'd roll over and let them impede our rights without a fight.

"Alright!" The board member at the center of the panel of nine boomed. His plaque read: BRENDAN PHILLIPS, GOVERNOR. "I'd like to thank you all for coming and attending today's Board Meeting, May 3rd, of 2017. Let us get this meeting underway. May the roll be called by the clerk, please?"

"Yes, sir." The clerk replied. "Mr. Phillips."

"Here." He replied.

"Mr. Norman."

"Here." The man who we faintly recognized said. He held up his arm and looked straight at Stasi and I. I saw a ghost of a smile on his face.

"Mr. Dong."

"Here." A bespectacled Asian man said.

"Mr. Rose... Mr. King... Mr. Carr..." The clerk continued, each name being replied in kind with a 'Here'. "Mrs. Silva... and last but not least, Mrs. Webb. Mr. President, a quorumqurom is present and we are ready to proceed."

"Thank you, clerk. I believe we are here to discuss formally with the community of the San Francisco Bay Area School District about an upcoming bill to suppress were transformations of students from Belcourt High School in public areas after the Sun has gone down. Now, ladies and gentlemen, I can see that there are alot of various... monsters in the crowd. From the views of the majority, humans that is, we feel as if it'd be safer for the whole community if we disallowed weres from transforming when it's dark out. However, that is simply the... viewpoint of the majority."

He begrudgingly looked to his right to Mr. Norman, the man we recognized earlier. "We are here," He continued. "To listen to the viewpoints of the San Francisco Bay Area School District and hear your concerns. Mr. Clerk, may you announce the first speaker?"

"Yes, sir. Calling to the stand, Mr. Damon Parks!"

So, then we began the waiting game. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach that I was last. People came up to the stand to plead their cases in front of the Board. The humans in the red and the nonhumans in the blue. Every time one finished, I found myself leaning forward in anticipation, only to sink back in my chair when the clerk called someone else. It was nearly half an hour of mind-numbingly boring anticipation until finally...

"Calling the last speaker of the evening to the stand, Belcourt High School President and Vice President, Christopher Williams and Anastasia Sokolov."

The board members immediately sat up straighter in their seats, shifting so they could see us. Stasi and I stood up, making our way to the podium with our notes clenched in my fist. The contingent of royal blue supporters began clapping and whistling while the other half of the room, the blood red supporters of the DTOSA, hissed and glared at us as we walked to what I saw as our deaths.

I stepped on the right side of the podium, with Stasi flanking me at my left. I adjusting the microphone, clearing my throat. "Uh... good evening," I said awkwardly. "As the clerk said, my name is Chris Williams,"

"And my name is Anna Sokolov," Stasi said stiffly.

"And we are here to speak to the board regarding the school's viewpoint on the bill regarding the suppression of weres transformations. May I proceed, Mr. President?"

"You may," Brendan said, nodding. He picked up his gavel and twirled it in his fingers, looking at me intently.

"Thank you. Over the past year, we have found many choices being made without us-..."

"The DTOSA." Stasi said.

"What schools we have to go to-.."

"What establishments we can be patrons at-.."

"What friends we can make-.."

"What people we can fall in love with-.."

"Who I'm going to prom with," I joked. A small chorus of laughter rang through the crowd and Brendan's steely gaze cracked as his lips lifted in a small smile. "Many of these choices that humans can seemingly make at will are choices that nonhumans will never even dream of having. The DTOSA preaches that we are equal in every right, but different in any other way. I am here to tell you that that thinking is flawed and to plead with you not to pass this bill."

"The same way that we all need water and food to survive," Stasi continued in that adorable accent of hers. It was heavy, because she was as nervous as I was. "Weres need to transform, to release that pent up energy, especially at such a confusing and traumatic time such as adolescenceadolecense. It's inherently in their biology. To deny them what should be their basic right, to allow them to transform and roam in areas designated for that purpose.,This will have dire consequences to both the health of the student and the overall physiology of the pack itself."

"They will have no other place or time to do it." She continued. "The bill restricts them from being able to transform at night in designated areas when that is the only time that these werewolves find it safe to do so, as most designated areas already do not allow transformations during the day. This is akin to telling your children that you are forcing them to remain in their own cramped and tiny room until they come of age."

"Being human," I added. "Means alot of things. To some, it simply means you're a homo sapien. But to others, it means that if you're a human, you live by the two golden rules. Before you act, you put yourself in their shoes. You treat others the way you want to be treated and you don't treat them in a way you don't want to be treated. So, I ask you..."

Wait for it...

"How human do you really feel?" I asked.

Judging by the awkward looks that the board members were giving each other, not very human.

"Now," Stasi continued, flipping rapidly through our papers. "We have numerous data and sources stating that-.."

"And, that is time!" The clerk announced, standing up and holding up the timer for the first time the entire evening. "Your time has concluded, please return to your seat."

"W-wait, what?" Stasi stuttered, as the crowd began murmuring behind us. She was rattled and looked at me in desperation.

"Your time is up." The clerk repeated. "Back to your seat so we can continue with the meeting, please."

"We did not talk for three minutes." I argued. "We talked for one, maximum!"

"The time started as soon as you two stood up," The clerk said haughtily.

"It didn't take two minutes to walk from our seat to the podium!"

The clerk shrugged, pointing to the clock. "Not according to what the timer says," She said. "Now back to your seat before we call security on our very own Leech and Traitor."

As soon as she spat the ugly words, the crowd exploded. I heard angry Russian from Anton, heckling from Elena, and every bad word in the Spanish language from Jazz and Ricky. It was chaos. There was loud cheering from the DTOSA supporters, which were promptly drowned out by boos and jeers from everyone else. I raised a hand to the back of my head, rubbing at the throbbing pain. Brendan immediately jumped to his feet, slamming the gavel down on his desk as hard as he could. So hard, in fact, that he ended up cracking the wood.

"ENOUGH!" He roared, shutting the crowd up in an instant. "Ms. Amendola, you are out of line!"

The clerk shrugged. "I am simply pointing out the ruling that Mr. Williams and Ms. Sokolov's time on the podium has concluded and they are required by rule to return to their seat unless they wish for security to be called to extract them from the room for defiance."

Brendan gritted his teeth and his vein throbbed in his forehead. "So be it," He replied. "Never in my career have I witnessed such pandemonium in this very chamber. Mr. Williams and Ms. Sokolov, your case has certainly been heard by this board and will be taken into consideration. Thank you for your time."

"Just one moment!" Mr. Norman announced, raising his finger. "Mr. President, I believe that we have unlimited time for questions, do we not?"

"We do." Brendan said, nodding while the clerk looked like she was about to blow a gasket. "The board recognizes Chuck Norman, Board MemberBoardmember."

"Recognized," The clerk snarled.

"Very well, I do have a question specifically for Mr. Williams here in light of Ms. Amendola's sabotage attempt." The clerk began to sputter, her face reddening. "Are you free to answer, Mr. Williams?"

"Yes, sir." I said. "Fire away."

"As a human, why did you transfer to Belcourt High School, young man?" He asked.

The room got so silent that you could've heard a pin drop. I froze, thinking on the question. I instinctively wanted to reply that Stasi was the main reason why I transferred. Even though we weren't together when I made the choice, I knew that I couldn't bear being away from her. She was my best friend and the love of my life, the one willing to break down her walls to talk in front of a crowd and a board meeting. For me. She was my everything.