Free Beastly by Alex Flinn

Beast.
    Grizzlyguy joined the chat.

    SilentMaid: I know there’ll be a risk involved, a huge risk. If I don’t get the guy, I’ll be reduced to sea foam. But I think it’s a risk I have to take for true love.
    Grizzlyguy: Sea foam?
    Froggie: tru luv is worth it
    BeastNYC: Can i say something?
    Froggie: Cn NE1 evr stop u?
    BeastNYC: All guys r jerks. U could be giving up your chance for some guy who doesn’t deserve it. No one’s worth being turned to sea foam.
    SilentMaid: You don’t even know him!
    BeastNYC: Neither do u. U r undersea & he’s on land!
    SilentMaid: I know all I need to know. He’s perfect.
    Froggie: im sur he is.
    BeastNYC: I’m just being realistic… he might not notice you. didn’t you say you have to give up your voice?
    SilentMaid: I saved him from drowning! Oh, forget it.
    Froggie: beest is a beest, slnt. Dont let him get u down.
    SilentMaid has left the chat.

    BeastNYC: sorry but it’s really hard being a beast in nyc.

    PART 3 - THE CASTLE
    1
    The next month, I moved. My father bought a brownstone in Brooklyn and informed me we were moving there. Magda packed my stuff with no help from me.
    The first thing I noticed was the windows. The house had old-fashioned stick-out windows with fancy frames around them. Most houses on the block had windows with sheer curtains or shades that looked out on the tree-lined street. Dad obviously didn’t want me looking at trees – or, more to the point, anyone looking at me. Our house had thick, dark, wooden blinds that, even when opened, blocked most of the light and view from the front of the house. I could smell the fresh wood and the stain, so I knew that they were new. There were alarms on every window and surveillance cameras on every door.
    The house was five stories, each story almost as big as our whole apartment in Manhattan. The first floor was a complete private apartment with its own living room and a kitchen. That was where I’d live.
    A huge plasma screen took up most of a wall in the living room. It had a DVD player and the entire stock of Blockbuster. Everything an invalid needs.
    In back of the bedroom was a garden area so bare and brown I almost expected tumbleweeds. A new-looking wooden fence stretched across the back. Even though there was no gate, there was a surveillance camera trained on the fence, in case anyone broke in. Dad didn’t want to take any chances someone would see me. I didn’t plan to go outside.
    In keeping with the invalid theme, there was a study off the bedroom with another plasma screen, just for the PlayStation. The bookshelves were lined with games, but no actual books.
    The bathroom on my floor had no mirror. The walls had been freshly painted, but I could see an outline where a mirror had been unscrewed and spackled over.
    Magda had already unpacked my stuff – except for two things I hadn’t let her see. I took out two rose petals and Kendra’s mirror. I put them under some sweaters in my bottom dresser drawer. I walked up the stairs to the second floor, which had another living room, a dining room, and a second kitchen.
    This place was too big for just us. And why would Dad want to move to Brooklyn?
    The bathroom there had a mirror. I didn’t look at it.
    The third floor had another big bedroom, which was decorated like a living room, but empty, and a study with no books. And another plasma screen.
    The fourth had three more bedrooms. The smallest one had some suitcases in it I didn’t recognize.
    The fifth floor just had a bunch of junk in it – old furniture and boxes of books and records, all covered in a thick blanket of dust. I sneezed – dust stuck in my beast fur more than it did on regular people – and went back down to my own apartment and stared out the French doors at the garden fence. While I was looking around, Magda walked in.
    “Knock much?” I said.
    “Ah, I am sorry.” And then she started chirping, like a Spanish squirrel. “You like you room, Mr.
    Kyle? I do for you –