Memoirs of a Girl Wolf (22 page)

“I’m sorry, baby,” she said, near tears.

“Tea?” I reminded her.

She held up her finger and disappeared out of the room and returned with a steaming chipped mug of tea. She set it on the floor next to the plate. I waited for her to leave and close the door. I listened to it lock in more than one place and then I was left with silence. At least the light had remained on. I picked at the food with my fingers; eating small bites and doing my best to scoop up the peas with three fingers.

I hated being in the cold, small room. It was suffocating, so I drank the tea quickly in hopes that it would knock me out and I could soon go to sleep and wake in the morning, but I knew I couldn’t do this every night. For what? For Mom’s happiness? I couldn’t remain chained like this every night of my life and sleep on a cold, hard floor? No, I’d risk the dangers of learning how to control myself as a wolf. I had to. This was no life and I saw nothing good about the panic room scenario.

The tea kicked in. I curled on my side and closed my eyes as my body relaxed. I thought back over the afternoon and what Mom had to say and then what Phoenix said and thought about what I would say to him when I went looking for him tomorrow to tell him my decision.

I fell asleep, content that I had made a choice and on my own. When I woke up, I still felt content. I unchained myself and waited by the door for Mom to unlock the dead bolts on the other side of the door which she did soon after I woke, so fortunately I did not have to wait long for her, however, pushing on the door myself I found that, due to my increased strength, the locks were a little weak and I could probably take the door off if I pushed on it hard enough with force.

I followed her down the narrow stairs of the attic and I trudged, sleepily, to my bedroom where I slipped back into my bed to fall sleep another hour before I would need to get ready for school. I slept so well back in my bed because I was confident in my choice, but then everything changed by the end of the day.

23

              I ate a quick, quiet breakfast at the table sandwiched in between my brothers. Josh had decided he felt well enough to leave his bedroom, but he convinced Mom to let him stay home from school another day because of his concussion that the doctor said could take up to a week to subside.

              “I feel so dizzy,” he whined.

              Mom embraced Josh into a tight hug and kissed his cheek. “I know, sweetie. I’ll stay home with you today and take care of you.”

              When Mom turned her back, Josh smiled at me and Eric and stuck out his tongue. Eric complained that he wanted to stay home too because he was experiencing the twin pains that Mom had asked him about the other night. Holding his head, he groaned and complained that he also felt dizzy.

              Josh accused Eric of trying to steal his attention and Josh accused Eric of lying about his symptoms and they continued to bicker and whine while we ate our cinnamon rolls and drank orange juice. I stayed silent. I was afraid if I looked at Mom she would see all over my face that I had changed my mind about spending my nights in that room and that my choice involved taking my chances with Phoenix.

              Thinking of Phoenix reminded me that I wanted to talk to him this morning, right away, before school and get it over with. I excused myself from the table, but no one noticed. Mom kept snapping at the twins to stop fighting and go brush their teeth, but the twins ignored her and continued picking on one another.

              After rinsing of my plate and setting it in the dishwasher, I found my winter coat on the wooden coat tree by the front door and slipped my arms through the warm sleeves then zipped it up to my chin. Shouting to Mom that a friend was giving me a ride, I picked my bag up from the bottom of the stairs and slung it over my shoulder before leaving the house through the front door and jumping over the few cement steps of the front stoop.

              I wasn’t sure where Phoenix was, but all Mom did yesterday was say his name and he appeared. I figured I’d try the same. I walked up to the entrance of the woods that surrounded my house and called him. I stood; waiting nervously as I listened to the sounds of the rattling woods.

              At first, I didn’t notice him because the woods were so dark and when I did detect movement I saw only his glowing green speckled yellow eyes and then I heard him running over crunchy dead leaves and the snap of twigs as his paws hit the ground. When he was within a few feet of me he morphed into the young boy with dark hair. He stood staring at me with the same yellow eyes except they had lost their glow. He waited.

              “Aren’t you cold?” I asked, but I already knew the answer. I wasn’t cold either.

              He wore only a thin, long sleeved, and ratty maroon red sweater and still wore the black, faded, and torn jeans. On his feet were muddy grey cloth shoes. It was the first time I saw him in a different shirt and I wondered where he was living while he was out here in the woods waiting on me to come around. Was having a lot of clothes was even necessary if he was constantly changing back and forth between species?

              “Do you have something to tell me?” he asked in a serious tone.

              He wasn’t very friendly and I was once again reminded of that odd feeling I got when he spoke to me. I crinkled my nose at him in protest to his tone. Now I was hesitating again. Maybe my choice should be influenced by who I can trust more. Wouldn’t the person who knew me better have my interest in mind?

              “Too late,” he said, turning away from me.

              “Wait, where are you going?” I called after him.

              “This afternoon,” he said behind his shoulder before dropping to all fours and disappearing back into the woods.

              Confused, I stood staring after him long after he left and even when the snow started falling. But then I heard the roar of the familiar engine of Reign’s truck and I knew that that must be what Phoenix heard and that’s why he left. Turning from where I stood I saw Reign’s truck come to a stop. He lifted his hand and waved.

              Because of my bad mood the day before, I promised myself I would be in a great mood with Reign today, so despite feeling disenchanted that my morning had not met my expectations already, I climbed into the truck with a forced smile on my face and leaned forward to kiss Reign.

              “What were you doing?” he asked as he reversed out of the lane.

              “Waiting on you,” I replied.

              “In the woods?” he laughed.

              “I thought I saw something,” I said, shrugging.

              “What? My dad has set up traps all over to catch—“

              “Traps? I though he was retired,” I said, immediately thinking of Phoenix, but surely with being a Morphic and having heightened senses he was smart enough to see and avoid hunting traps.

              Reign shrugged. “Yeah, now it’s a hobby for him.” He glanced at me and noticed my scowl. “Hey, I don’t agree with him. I love animals.”

              “You don’t even realize how much I like hearing you say that,” I said, breaking into laughter even though he started at me confused.

              When we got to school and before parting our ways for our first class, he took my hand and slipped a folded note into it. I looked at him quizzically and began to open the note but he put his hand on top of mine to stop me.

              “Wait till third period,” he said, winking at me then slowly walked away down the hall toward his class room.

              Hesitating with the note in my hand, I debated about whether or not I should open it. It was folded, sloppily, four ways, and because I couldn’t wait, I started to unfold it, but then I saw a note in the corner before unfolding it all the way that said:

              I told you to wait till third period.

              I lifted my head and stared down the hall after him half expecting to see him standing in front of me shaking his head in disappointment. Re-folding the note, I slipped it into the back pocket of my jeans and picked up my bag at my feet and headed to class.

              When I walked past the girls bathroom, Sydney and Kristen where standing in front of the swinging door. They stopped when they saw me walking past them. Sydney’s hair was curled in tight bouncy, blonde curls and she wore a soft blush pink turtle neck that swallowed her neck right up to her pointy chin as well as her arms right down to the tips of her fingers. Kristen also wore her hair in blonde curls though they were not as curly as Sydney’s. Half of the pathetic curls had already fallen back into straight, fine strands of cheaply dyed blonde hair. She wore a pink turtle neck as well, but it was much too baggy and short in the sleeves. I was disappointed in her. I had been all semester. She was trying so hard to be one of them and in the process she was giving up everything that made her unique. I guess I wasn’t the only who had been transforming lately, but our situations were different. I didn’t have as much of a choice and she did. She had a choice in how she conducted her behavior toward me.

Sydney said something to Kristen. Hearing my name, I jerked my head around to stare at them. When I met eyes with Kristen I felt a jolt of loss and love, but only for a second. The feeling had seized my heart and punched me in the gut and left as quickly as it had rushed through me. I broke eye contact with my old friend and hurried to class feeling a little lighter. My lips stretched into a smile that I couldn’t contain. She missed me and I felt it.

              I had forgotten about the note until the middle of third period when my phone went off in Mrs. Fendell’s American History class. The entire class turned to look at me as the annoying tune interrupted our old teacher’s lecture.

              Mrs. Fendell turned from the board with a blue marker in her hand and stared at me with tired, irritated, hazel eyes. With her hands folded behind her back, she walked down the aisle toward me. Her clogs clipped the linoleum floor and she clicked her tongue in disapproval as she approached me all the way in the back row.

              Mortified, I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my phone. I struggled to turn it off because of how flustered I was that everyone was staring. The scent of vapor rub grew stronger with every step Mrs. Fendell took toward me.

              Finally, I turned off my phone, but it was too late. The old teacher, in pleated tan suit pants belted high on her waist and a black sweater that was neatly tucked into the waist of the pants held her hand out in front of me waiting for me to deposit my phone into her cupped hand. I obliged. With her fingers gripped around the phone she turned on her heal and walked back to the front of the class where she resumed her position at the board and continued talking about The Boston Tea Party.

              I slid down as far as I could in my seat and covered my face with my hair. No one was staring anymore, but I was still embarrassed. On the floor beside my desk I noticed the note, and remembering about Reign, my embarrassment was replaced with curiosity and excitement as I reached down and picked up the note.

              I unfolded the note in my lap and read his sloppy handwriting:

             
Meet me after third period at the gates.

              The gates he referred to were the black iron gates of our football field. During the day the gates were locked and the field was off limits, especially now that it was snowing and football was coming to an end. I was pretty sure the last game of the season was coming up that weekend or the next.

              If we were caught at the gates we could get detention, and if we were caught skipping class we could face suspension. I couldn’t think of any logical reason for why he wanted to meet me there and why  it couldn’t wait for lunch which was just after fourth period, but once the bell rang I gathered my books, dropping them into my bag, and obliged his request. Mrs. Fendell stopped me as I passed her desk and returned my phone, but not before delaying me for a long, boring lecture that she gave me in her raspy smoker voice.

              Once in the hallway, I fought my way through the noisy crowd as people rushed to and from class stopping momentarily at lockers and for quick conversations before the bell. I slipped out of the side doors of the math and science hallway and walked quickly to the field. Every so often I checked behind my shoulder to see if anyone was following me or if I was being watched. I wasn’t. I was completely alone until I arrived at the tall iron gates and saw Reign standing, holding a rose which he gave to me in greeting.

              “Where’d this come from?” I asked, pressing the flower to my nose. He looked a little disappointed in my reaction, so before he could respond I added, “It’s so pretty. I love it. Thank you.”

              He turned around and shook the bars of the gate. It was padlocked. He picked and pulled at the lock and the chains wrapped around the bars with no luck. Sighing, he slanted his eyes toward me and apologized for not knowing the gates would be locked.

              I didn’t know why he even wanted to go onto the field now covered in about an inch of snow, but I figured I should help him out so that I could see what he had planned and why. I nudged him a little until he moved out of the way and with his back pressed against the bars he told me that the lock was secure and there was no way I would get it open.