"Bananas," I blurted out. And then cringed.
"Uh—what?"
"You know, um, the, uh, the history of fruit." I tried to think of an interesting anecdote, but there were none. Why had I thought bananas were interesting?
I cast around wildly for something else I might have read, something more interesting, less obscure. I couldn't think of a damned thing. I knew very well I'd read at least eight books last month alone. Why couldn't I—?
"Oh," said the cop. What was his name again?
The world seemed to be narrowing, and my brain was failing me. I wished he'd stop looking at me. These get-to-know-you sessions were a kind of hell. Too many cops. Too many forceful personalities. And too much of me. Turned out I couldn't leave that behind no matter what.
"That's cool," said the cop, trying to sound like he meant it. L? I thought his name started with L. I'd memorized everyone's names on the first meeting, connected them with their scents, filed them away for safekeeping. But you could have strung me up by my thumbs and demanded it on pain of death, and it wouldn't have shown up just then.
"All right, that's enough," said an instructor, stepping in, between me and Officer L.
"What did I do?" The cop sounded offended as he stepped back. "Just talking."
"That's fine," said the instructor. "No problem. It's simply time for a break."
I was glad she didn't add "before Riley has a nervous breakdown." She led me away with an arm around me.
Great. I was trembling, just a little. She wouldn't miss that.
"You okay?" she asked me, when we were away. "Was it something he said?"
I shook my head, pressing a hand against my forehead, closing my eyes and trying to steady my breathing. "I'm—not good at this," I managed.
Meeting new people. Meeting cops. Making small talk. Surviving on my own.
She waited a moment, to see if I had more, but I didn't. I was all talked out. She patted my back. "Let's take a break for the rest of the day. You don't have to do this all at once."
Or at all, I bet she added silently.
Despite how well I did on bookwork and in the physical tests, I could pretty much bet I was the one wolf who was not going to graduate.
THEY SIGNED ME UP FOR fewer meet and greets, cut way back on my exposure to non-shifters, and piled some more counseling on. I wasn't very good at the counseling lately, either, since a lot of it seemed to involve talking about the things I least wanted to think or talk about.
Nolan was getting worried about me, I could tell. I barely dragged myself out of bed some days. Sometimes I didn't even go for a run with him, and that was usually my favorite part of the day. I was just so damned tired—of myself, of life, of this stupid training course pointing out all my flaws and problems, even of waking up in the morning.
I hadn't been this low in quite some time. Everything seemed gray and muted, like an overcast day. I welcomed that. What I didn't like was the feeling of despair that went along with it, the gray cloud. And sometimes things just hurt too much even to turn gray. But only pain was in bright colors.
I got a text from Justin.
Riley, I know I said I'd back off, but they contacted me. Said you're not doing well. I'll come and get you if you want. Do you? Your choice, I promise.
I lay there in my bunk, thinking about what to say. I felt too blank to make a decision. It was nice he'd texted me. He wasn't trying to take over. He was just offering. But where would I go? I didn't have anywhere to go.
At least there were wolves here. There weren't any wolves back home.
Justin: If you're okay, please answer. I'm worried about you. Please?
My fingers hovered over the phone screen. What could I say? I was pretty sure I couldn't fake being okay, and he wasn't the kind of person who would take my word for it. Whatever he'd promised about not spying, that would all go out the window. He'd "happen" to get another report. He'd keep after me.
I didn't want to not answer him when he'd said please (twice), but I couldn't make myself be okay. Things had been hitting me hard lately.
I knew very well I shouldn't be this down in the dumps. I was safe. I was okay. I'd made a friend. And yes, I was failing some parts of the course (quite badly) but Justin had already said that didn't matter, this was just about safety and learning all I could.
Apparently what I was learning was that I was terrible at everything that couldn't be measured on a test.
The phone rang. And rang.
It was Justin's number. I stared at it for a long time, my brain buzzing with a frozen, blank indecision.
It stopped ringing after a while.
Riley, please answer me, he texted.
Then it started ringing again.
"Would you shut that damned thing off or answer it?" growled a wolf from across the room. "Some of us would like to sleep."
I flinched, and pressed the green button quickly, accepting the call. It wasn't nighttime; I hadn't thought I'd be disturbing anyone.
If ringing kept that guy awake, could I talk without disturbing him? Should I get up and leave the room? That felt like an awful lot of effort. Sitting up, standing up, walking out... I lifted the phone to my ear.
"Riley?" said Justin. He didn't just sound worried, he sounded scared. "Are you there?"
"I'm here," I said quietly.
My heart lifted a little at the sound of his voice. I couldn't stay mad at him forever. He'd barged into my life like a hurricane and fucked it all up, but I was pretty sure he'd never meant to hurt me, and that, when the dust settled, I'd always be more glad than not for a hurricane named Justin.
He blew out a breath. "It's good to hear your voice. You had me worried there for a minute. You're not going to do something stupid, are you?"
"Like what?" My mind, blank, couldn't fill in something stupid he wouldn't want me to do. He didn't say anything. "You shouldn't call me stupid," I told him. "Mr. Grade Spy." Of all people, he should know better. I wasn't stupid.
He laughed then, but it didn't sound like a regular sort of laugh. "You're okay, then? You can't be doing that badly if you're making jokes. You are okay, aren't you?"
I shrugged, even though he couldn't see it. I didn't know if I'd been okay for a very long time. But hearing his voice was...nice. Grounding.
"They keep saying I'm not decisive enough," I heard myself telling him. "And I can't stand talking to any of them—the cops, I mean. I can't look at them in the eyes. They're so..." I hesitated, the word escaping me.
"Bossy?" tried Justin. "Pushy? Overbearing? Or just too loud?"
I let out a frustrated breath. "I don't know. Too much."
"Ask them to set you up to meet someone less assertive. A little quieter and more circumspect."
"I don't think there's anyone like that here."
"Really? I thought it was the cream of the crop that got in. There should be a variety of personality types, not just Type A, summa cum laude go-getters." He snorted. "Look at me. I checked off a lot of boxes, but personality-wise, it just didn't work."
"Maybe mine doesn't either. I don't really want to be a cop."
"Oh." He was silent a moment. "Then don't meet anyone else. Do the work and keep your head down. I'll be there to get you in two days. I can't leave till tomorrow, and the earliest I'll be able to get a flight—" He was calculating, half to himself, half to me.
"No, you don't have to do that." I didn't sound like I meant it.
"It's no problem," he said. Then he hesitated. "Unless...do you want me to stay where I am?"
I hesitated. "I shouldn't give up. I should at least try to graduate." I lowered my voice even further, till I was whispering. "I'm almost top of my class, with the lectures and stuff."
"If you don't want to be there, you don't have to stay," argued Justin.
"What else am I going to do? Sleep on your couch forever?" I snorted to show that was just ridiculous.
"Not forever. As long as you need to. Or we can find you an apartment."
"No. I don't like being alone."
He was silent a longer moment. I could almost hear the gears of his brain working. I wasn't making it easy for him—how could I, when I didn't know what I wanted myself?—but he wasn't about to give up.
"Let me think about it," he said. "We'll figure something out. Besides, I'm not sure you should come back here quite yet."
"No, I shouldn't. It's dangerous, and I don't have any reason to. Except the kids. They're probably really hungry," I said glumly. I'd missed two weeks' summer food.
"That's all right," said Justin. "I've been taking food to your regular stops. It's now a police outreach program—unofficially." He laughed softly. It was a good sound. "I get some dirty looks, but the kids are okay with it. That's what matters."
I squeezed my eyes shut, reminded myself to breathe. I wasn't even needed for that. "Oh. Okay."
They'd like him better in no time. I breathed for a few moments, then forced myself to ask. "How's, uh, everything? With Vance?"
"Good. He's in lockup," said Justin with relish. "No bail. We got a friendly judge and a lucky break there. But there's a lot going against him, as well—even though he's pretty new at being the head honcho. Your testimony helped, but it's not just that. We've got—" He cut himself off abruptly. "Sorry. It's probably best not to talk about this too much over the phone."
Or because you think I'll call him up and tell you who else has flipped.
That hurt, a little. I hadn't even considered calling Vance. I wanted to live, didn't I? (Well. Some of the time, anyway.) It was hard to imagine him forgiving me, no matter what I gave him on a silver platter.
Besides, getting back into Vance's good graces was not exactly a current life goal of mine.
Justin could probably flip anyone he wanted, too, with that mix of charm and forcefulness. Vance should watch his back and not count on his lawyers to get him out of this one. He should probably start making plans to survive hard time. If he'd done anything hard time-worthy.
I wasn't let in on everything, clearly. Even Vance had known better than to share any plans that might involve murder. He knew just exactly how far he could count on me, I guess—that I was too weak to count on helping him with something like that.
Was it weak, to not want to kill people? I didn't know anymore. I really didn't. Every time I thought I'd sorted something out, I was thrown for a new loop, on unsteady ground all over again, trying to fight my way out of the muck with nowhere firm to stand at all.
"So you'll be okay for now?" Justin was saying. "You'll call me, stay in touch?"
I probably would. "I guess."
"If you want me to come and get you, say the word and I'm there."
"Okay." What word would it be, though? Would it be one word, really, or would I have to spill every single gut I had left to him...and even that might not be enough?
It didn't matter if he came and got me, though. I didn't have anywhere to go.
"I COULDN'T HELP OVERHEARING part of your conversation." Nolan faced me with a worried look.
I looked back, not getting it. "What?"
"On the phone? Earlier?"
Oh. That conversation. "You couldn't help it, huh?" Did you even try?
"You're my friend. You've been upset. Now you're getting strange calls you don't want to answer. You were stressed and upset. Of course I listened."
"It's not like that. It was just Justin."
He gave me a long look. "And this Justin. He treats you right?"
"Uh." I didn't know. I clearly didn't know what "right" treatment was or wasn't, did I? That had been brought home to me a lot recently. "What's this about?"
"It seemed like he was trying to convince you of something. You sounded unhappy. You said you had nowhere to go."
I shrugged. "He worries about me. If I knew what I wanted, he'd try to wrench it out of the sky for me, I guess." I frowned, because that wasn't what I wanted—for him to bowl me over once again and rush me off my feet, doing everything. "It's complicated. He thinks he understands me, but he doesn't."
How could he? I didn't even understand myself.
"He can't force you to do anything," said Nolan. "It's not allowed."
I laughed, because that was so like what Justin had said as well.
"I'd knock his block off if he tried," said Nolan, looking surprisingly fierce.
"Everybody thinks I'm so fragile." I shook my head.
He gave me a strange look. "Riley. You are." Then seeing my expression, he added kindly, "I'm sure it's not forever. You're healing."
I snorted. "I'm a mess is what I am." So many things hurt lately, and finding out I'd been wrong about a lot of stuff—that was no picnic either.
Really, it should have been clear to me long ago that I didn't owe criminals my loyalty. That my parents would not be proud of me for staying.
They would have been appalled. They'd have told me any pack—the worst pack—was better than that.
He looked down at his feet. "Look, I know I'm not settled yet, but you do have somewhere to go. I have no pack, but—I'll be settled eventually, and you're welcome to come and stay with me when I am. I mean that."
I gave him a doubtful head-tilt, squinting a little. "Not sure Cecelia will agree," I said mildly. I was proud of myself for not pressing him about her. It was clearly a tender topic.
Things weren't sewn up between them, but they got along, and I was pretty sure they were going to end up working together. Were they going to be more than workmates? It was a desperately important question, and Nolan was pretty vulnerable on the subject. So far I'd resisted the urge to ask. And I wasn't asking now: friends or more, she would still have some say in whether he had a new pal living with him. It stood to reason.
"Anyway, I don't want to live off you," I said quickly, before he could think I was poking at him about her. "It's a kind offer, but..."
"It's more than an offer. It's a promise." He stared at me, till I wanted to look away, but didn't. "You're my friend. You're welcome to come to me and stay with me. She won't mind. Any time."
I nodded, my throat feeling tight, like it was getting hard to breathe. I wasn't going to start crying. I wasn't. Nobody had felt that way about me for a long time. If ever.
He clapped me on the shoulder, looking away, clearing his throat. "Now let's go for a run, okay? And stop skipping out on our runs. You'll get weak."
I rolled my eyes. "Because I'm just wasting away."
He laughed. The truth was I'd put on weight here already. There was always so much good food to eat, and I was being active. I was also still at that age where, at least for wolves, it's easier to put on muscle than fat. Or maybe it was my genes. I was always assuming anything different about me was because I was a wolf, but clearly, that wasn't always the case.
"If you do go back with your Justin," said Nolan, sounding hesitant, about halfway through our run, "let me meet him first."
I couldn't really imagine a scenario where that wouldn't work for me. "Okay."
"Okay." He nodded, looking slightly more satisfied and at ease.
"RILEY? YOU THERE?"
I said nothing for a moment, just breathing. Listening to Justin's voice felt good. It shouldn't, but it did. I thought of his handsome, weathered face, crinkling with concern over me. I shut my eyes, focused on breathing in and out.
I didn't want to be the kind of wolf who fell over himself for anyone alpha-like. I wanted to stand on my own. But damn, his voice. It still settled something inside me that was almost always adrift.
"I'm—I'm here."
"Good, because I need to tell you something, and this might be more complex than a text can explain."
"Oh?" I tried to concentrate on what he was saying, not just how he sounded. I wished he were here.
That surprised me. I'd been avoiding him, hadn't I? This was just my stupid neediness acting up again, of course. When he hung up I'd be glad he wasn't here, surely.
He coughed. "I've had a word. Th
ey're bringing in a few less...decisive...possibilities for you to meet. Don't work with the cops if you don't want to. By no means. There are other options out there; I'm just a lot less familiar with them. But we can do the research, if you want. Medical stuff. Consultation gigs. The point is, there are options. But I still wanted you to have a better chance, not be set up for failure over personality issues. So, I had a word."
I suppressed a snort of laughter. He'd gone through the program and out the other side as what the non-shifters would consider a failure: no wolf had wanted him. Yet he still had no qualms about bending their ears and bossing them around, making them change the program to suit me.
His powers of persuasion were intact. Good to know they didn't just work on me, I suppose. It was slightly less humiliating that way.
"You didn't have to do that."
"Of course I did. You shouldn't be set up for failure by design—especially not when you've been doing so well with the other portions of it." He coughed. "That is, you said you were," he added awkwardly.
"You're not checking up on my grades anymore, then?" I teased him.
"I said I wouldn't. I keep my word." Great, now he sounded offended.
"I believe you," I said, even though I wasn't sure if I did or not. I didn't want him to be annoyed with me. Not when he was clearly trying to help. "But you probably shouldn't tell them how to run their program, you know?"
"Why not? There's clearly a blind spot the size of a freighter, if there's no effort to avoid having only one personality type."
"I'm not sure there is only one." I thought of Cecelia. I didn't think she'd bowl anyone over. Yes, she had a strong personality, but she didn't seem too pushy or anything.
Not that I wanted to be paired up with Cecelia. Even if Nolan hadn't been hers already, I don't think I'd have wanted to. She wasn't pushy, but she was very certain.
"Too similar, then. Give it a try. You never know. Meet some people who aren't so taken with themselves. Then report back to me. If they don't actually give you anybody different—just more Type A pushy people—I want to know. I'll be bending some ears about it."
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