Of Fur and Ice

by Andrea Marie Brokaw

  “What makes you think I'm not going to threaten her with telling you?”

  “Me?” He squints at me.

  I laugh. “You're a hell of a lot scarier than Mr. Atherton.”

  A frown meets the statement. “So you're going to threaten to rat her out to me?”

  “Nope.”

  “You're starting to get annoying, you know.”

  “Sorry. I didn't ask you to follow me though,” I point out. “Or to ask questions.”

  There's a soft growl. “Who are you going to threaten to tell?”

  I give him a soft look. “If I told you that, then I would have told you who's doing it.”

  His responding sound is one of sheer frustration.

  “What are you going to get her to give you?” he asks as he opens the front door for me.

  “I don't know,” I admit. “But I'm sure I'll think of something eventually.” I shed my coat as soon as I step into the warmth of the building. “It's better to have enemies who owe you favors than enemies who don't.”

  “True.”

  He goes into Mr. Atherton's office with me, something the principal doesn't bother to comment on. “How are you, Michaela?”

  “I'm fine,” I answer truthfully, folding my arms lightly over my coat and giving the older wolf a smile. “The barn might need a new coat of paint though.”

  “So I hear.” He smiles back. Leaning back in his chair, he tilts his head as he watches me. “Any idea who would be plastering graffiti on my buildings?”

  I could lie, be all, “No, sir.” Warren wouldn't narc on me. But somehow I don't think Mr. Atherton would believe me.

  “I might,” I hedge. After all, I can only prove the soaps and the air freshener stunt. I have no evidence Simone was behind the idiocy with the barn. And even with the soap basket, it would be my word I'd smelled her on it versus her plea of innocence.

  “Do you want to tell me who you think it is?”

  Shaking my head, I let my eyes drop to the floor. “No, I don't.”

  There's a few seconds of silence in which I'm certain I'm being studied.

  Then Warren makes a movement. “She's handling it.”

  “Handling it?” Mr. Atherton repeats back to him.

  “Much less aggressively than I would.”

  Glancing at Warren, I catch a slightly rueful but fond smile.

  “Alright.” Mr. Atherton drums his hands on his desk. “You handle this, Michaela. But if she damages any more school property, I'm going to have to do something.”

  “I'll let her know.”

  He nods, waves his hand toward the door. “Get back to class then, Mike.”

  My wolf shadow starts to follow me out the door, but Mr. Atherton stops him. “Warren, one minute, please.”

  Warren takes more than a minute to get back to class, though, showing up over half-way through.

  It's none of my business what Mr. Atherton wanted to talk about, so I force myself not to ask. Not that I get close enough to Warren to ask him anyway. He seems very content to stay on the other side of the class from me.

  Based on that avoidance, I'm surprised when he catches up to me on the way back inside and falls into step at my side. He doesn't say anything and neither do I. My mind tries like anything to give me a line, just one line! But I can't think of a thing to say.

  At least not until we get to the building to find a dozen people milling around near the foot of the stairs talking about me. Then I have something to say. “I don't want to talk about it.”

  “But-” someone starts. The kid cuts off abruptly, literally cowering before the vicious look Warren gives him.

  Warren stays with me as I go up to my room, stopping just shy of my door. It wouldn't have surprised me too much at this point if he followed me in, but he doesn't.

  “Michaela...” He takes a deep breath and gives me a long look without quite meeting my gaze. “If you change your mind about how you want to deal with Simone... And you want me to do something... Let me know.” His eyes finally touch mine. “Please?”

  I make myself squint as though confused. “Simone?”

  He smiles softly, ironically, and takes a step backward. “Just let me know if you want anything from me.”

  Turning quickly, he rushes down the hall while I stare at his back.

  When did he figure out it was Simone? And is he not going to do anything with that information?

  I do my homework and write an email to my parents, not saying anything about the hazing. My stomach argues with me when I try to watch TV instead of going to dinner, so I make my way downstairs, regretting the decision when Lyly pounces on me before I reach the ground floor.

  “Mike!”

  Astonishingly, there are tears in her eyes.

  “You have to tell them it's not me!” she wails.

  Coming off of the bottom step, I fold my arms across my chest and regard her calmly. “What are you talking about?”

  “I didn't paint that stuff about you! I swear!”

  My eyes roll. “I know that.”

  She blinks. “You do?”

  “Yes.” I give her a glare. “I know you've been trying to get me disassociated from the den, but this isn't your style.”

  “You have to tell Tod! He thinks I did it!”

  “Oh, gee,” I wheedle sarcastically. “Why ever would he think that when you've been such a good friend to me?”

  “Mike!” she gasps.

  I sigh. “I'll tell him.”

  Only it turns out I don't have to tell him, because when I walk into into the dining hall, it's to find the rest of the school watching Seth and Simone yell at each other about it.

  Exactly one pair of eyes notices when I walk into the room. Warren's. They look at me with quiet sympathy, but his jaw is tense with some other emotion.

  Sighing, I resign myself to not having anything I can hold over Simone anymore, and I grab a snack from the student kitchen to take upstairs.

  Chapter Fifteen

  There's another note summoning me to the principal's office when I wake up in the morning. “You rang?” I ask him, sticking my head into the room.

  He smiles back. “Good morning.”

  Sitting in the usual chair, I lean back and wait.

  “I suspended Simone,” he tells me. “I thought you'd want to know that.”

  I give a snort of laughter. “And you didn't think the gossip lines would tell me that soon enough?”

  “Well...” With a half smile, he shrugs. “I thought I should tell you since I told you that you could do things your way.”

  “It obviously didn't work,” I admit. “I never even had time to try.”

  Mr. Atherton nods. “As soon as I couldn't deny knowing who the vandal was, I had to do something about it.”

  “Understood.” Stretching my spine out, I yawn. “Anything else ,or can I go get coffee now?”

  “No, that's it.”

  I grab my coffee and donuts in the student kitchen. Warren finds me there and takes a pastry without saying anything. He doesn't do anything other than give me a small smile and a nod of his head before he goes again, but I feel better after he leaves than before he wandered in.

  I keep low the rest of the day, skipping skiing in the afternoon and watching movies in Sam's room with her and Aliah in the evening.

  Seth isn't in English the next morning, and I realize that I haven't seen him since his argument with Simone, a fact which makes me very nervous. I spend most of the class trying, and failing, to stop myself from darting glances at his empty desk. When the teacher finally dismisses us, I wait for Amber, asking without lead, “Where is he?”

  Amber's skin looks eerie against the darkness of her hair. Her eyes are a lot like Seth's, similar enough that seeing them filled with pained uncertainty bothers me. “I am unsure. He left sometime the eve before last.”

  I shiver. “What do you mean left?”

  She shrugs. “He took the car, and drove off without a word.”


  “And he didn't tell anyone where he was going?”

  “No...” Amber sighs. “Or he didn't confide in me anyway.” Her lips move into a sickly imitation of a smile. “But he's well. We're twins, so I'd know if he wasn't.”

  She manages to sound pretty confident about that, but she turns to go up to her room rather than going into the dining room.

  “None of you know where Seth is, do you?” I ask my table as soon as I sit down.

  The foxes trade looks. Sam shrugs. “If any of us knew, wouldn't it be you?”

  “I've sort of been in hiding.”

  “We noticed,” Tod mutters.

  “Are you mad at me?” I ask him.

  “No!” He shakes his head and looks at me like I'm crazy.

  His sister waves her fork around. “Never mind him. He's just upset that it didn't turn out to be Lyly.”

  Tod glares at her. “Am not.”

  “Are too,” she counters.

  He glowers rather than continuing the volley.

  “Are you worried about him?” Aliah asks me, ignoring the siblings.

  “A little,” I admit.

  She gives me a sympathetic look. “Sometimes people just need to get away, you know?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Especially males?”

  Sam snorts. “Wish more of them would.”

  “What is your problem?” her brother demands.

  She stiffens defensively. “I don't have a problem.”

  She clearly does, but she won't tell me about it, even when we get ready go ice skating after class.

  “It's been repainted already,” I observe as we come up to the skate barn.

  “Of course it has.” She smiles. “You thought we'd leave it up there?”

  I shrug. “It's awfully cold to be painting. I'm impressed she got the words up there. A whole new coat...”

  “It took two,” Sam informs me.

  “Two?”

  She shakes her head. “It didn't take long, though. There were more volunteers to help than there were brushes.”

  Wow... My eyes prickle with what might be tears.

  Sam helps me find a pair of skates to borrow, then Bryce rushes over as I'm putting them on. “You're going to cut yourself,” he grumbles, falling to his knees in front of me and helping me into the skates.

  “She was fine,” Sam contends, rolling her eyes and making me laugh.

  “Come on.” Bryce holds a hand out to help me up, catching me when I start to fall.

  “Okay, maybe fine was optimistic,” Sam drolls. She goes to my other side and helps me remember how to walk while balanced on little wedges of metal.

  They get me up onto the ice, then pick me up when my feet slide right out from under me.

  “I thought you knew how to skate.” Sam stares at me, perplexed.

  “I do!”

  Breaking away from my keepers, I start off, making it around the rink in a way that is very unskilled but which does not re-introduce my still-sore bottom to the ice.

  I haven't been ice skating since middle school. None of my friends were serious skaters, and I guess we just decided at some point that we were too old to do it as play. I'd tell the weres about that, but they wouldn't understand. I love that about them.

  Gradually, I start to loosen up, and my body remembers what it's supposed to be doing. I can't do the little jumps and spins that Sam's showing off with, or even the surprisingly graceful weaves of Bryce, but I start to look like maybe I wasn't lying when I claimed I knew how to skate.

  Just before nightfall, a third of the skaters leave the building.

  “Interesting,” Bryce drawls.

  “Are we missing something?” I ask, slamming to stop against the railing next to him.

  The bear shakes his head. “They were all wolves. There's not a single wolf left here.”

  Sam stops beside us, spraying ice chips around her ankles. “Want to go see if there's any in the main building?”

  “No point,” Bryce tells her. “We know there won't be.”

  “So...” I cast around for clues. “They're having a party, and none of us were invited?”

  “A meet.” Sam bites her lip. “But why in the middle of the week?”

  “Something must be going on,” Bryce deduces.

  “Obviously.” I don't think I've ever heard Sam sound so sarcastic towards Bryce before. “But what?”

  Bryce gives her a long, hard look. “You are not allowed to go after them.”

  Sam whimpers at that, but nods. She may be vixen enough to be more curious than Pandora's cat, but she isn't suicidal.

  “You don't suppose it's related to what Atherton's doing?” she wonders.

  Bryce shakes his head. “Don't see how.”

  “What's Mr. Atherton doing?” I ask.

  “You haven't heard?” Sam squints at me.

  “Obviously,” Bryce grumbles, grinning at Sam's glare.

  “Mom called him this morning,” Sam tells me. “He left in a real big hurry after that.”

  “Why?”

  She looks around, then leans forward like she's telling me a secret. “Rumor has it that there's going to be a new girl.”

  Suddenly, the cold rolling off of the ice starts to get to me. “A new girl?”

  Bryce takes a deep breath. “Someone else was attacked near Seattle.”

  “Who?”

  The bear gives me an exasperated look. “Do I look like a reporter to you? I don't know who. I haven't met her yet.”

  “But she's probably coming here,” Sam adds. “At least, that's what Mom said when I talked to her.”

  “Oh,” is all I can think of to say.

  “But I'm not sure how that would tie into the wolves,” Sam admits thoughtfully.

  I shrug. “Unless they care about events in Seattle.”

  “They don't,” Bryce assures me. “Different pack down there.”

  “But if that pack is just letting people get attacked without doing anything...” I lead.

  The bear grunts. “Then the other local weres will take care of it.”

  Sam nods her agreement. “Yeah. The bears down there have things under control.” She sighs. “Or they did.”

  Our mood pretty well killed, we step off the ice and get out of our skates. My ankles are sore, telling me that I wasn't skating right after all. I try not to let on about that as we walk back to the main building, even though I feel like I'm wobbling.

  Dinner is noticeably wolf-free, but the lupines start to wander in while I'm watching repeat coverage of the latest X-Games event with the foxes and Bryce. None of them say anything, or even acknowledge that they see us sitting in the great room while they walk through it.

  “Why are they so quiet?” I ask my friends.

  “They're not allowed to talk about the meet,” Sam hisses back. “Never are.”

  After a few more wolves file through, the sound of a small prop engine is heard. Mr. Atherton is back.

  I wait for Sam to go meet the new girl like she did for me, but she stays sleepily cuddled next to Bryce. “You aren't going to go greet her?”

  “Let one of the wolves do it,” she mutters. “They're already up.”

  “You don't want to be the first person to meet her?” Bryce asks, sounding confused by what is clearly not typical Sam behavior.

  She snorts. “Expletive no, I'm not getting off the couch. Mom doesn't like her. That's enough for me. Besides, I don't want to lose my spot.”

  Tod climbs to his feet. “You're such a brat,” he informs his sister before looking to me. “You curious?”

  I shrug. “Sure.”

  Quietly, Aliah gets up and follows us to the door. We wait in the warmth, watching the plane through the window as it pulls into the hanger. The anticipation builds as we wait for Mr. Atherton to walk into view. Weighed down by five massive suitcases, he looks grateful to have us open the door for him. He gives Tod a tight smile. “There's another five in the plane.”

  “Anot
her five?” Tod mouths to me, aghast. The bags our principal has already wrestled in aren't exactly petite.