by S. T. Hill
"Fine," I said, digging my phone out of my pocket and handing it to him. A few seconds later, he gave it back with his number programmed in.
I was just about to slip through the kitchen door when he touched my shoulder.
"And Stephanie? Don't tell him about me, okay?"
I didn't give him an answer. Instead, I walked out of that frat house and tried to get everything set for my next class.
Chapter 29
Every night that week, Adam turned. I knew because I spent each of those nights at his house. Each evening, after class he would come and pick me up from my dorm in that BMW.
It seemed each day that went by without finding Jenn added another ton or two to the weight sitting on his shoulders.
My coursework suffered, of course. It was all I could do to attend class and try to sit there with glassy eyes, shaking myself from my stupor every few moments to try and scratch something down on my notepad.
I knew my grades would start slipping soon. There were end of term essays due. I hadn't even finished reading Jane Eyre yet, let alone written down any sort of thesis or outline for the ten page paper I had to turn in.
All that stuff seemed to pale in importance when I sat across from Adam in his kitchen. I still hadn't seen any of the staff he'd talked about, but I assume they'd come and gone several times. The fridge was always stocked, and the whole place was spotless and smelling of cleaners.
Though I had to admit it was almost good to feel like someone depended on me again. It was like old times back in Pasadena. Except now I wasn't running to the pharmacy to hand over a bunch of rolled pennies for a prescription.
"I thought that werewolves were only supposed to transform during full moons?" I said one day, twirling my fork in the spaghetti on my plate. It was just plain pasta and plain red sauce, nothing fancy.
The red sauce was a mistake, I thought. Adam could hardly look at it.
"If only," Adam said, "The full moon can cause it. But strong emotions are also a trigger. That's why I try to stay away from most people, usually. People make you feel things. If I don't hang around with many, I don't have to feel that way. See?"
I did. It sounded like such an empty, unfulfilled life. Yeah, it seemed somehow easier. With fewer people around you, there'd be fewer arguments and disagreements, not so many disappointments, or any of those other negative things. But the opposite was true as well.
It would be simply existing, rather than living. And that was a feeling I was familiar with.
After getting a suitably large amount of spaghetti onto my fork, I shoveled it into my mouth.
My heart went out to him. There was so much potential in there, but he was cursed for something that happened so many years before he was even born. Why should he suffer for something a family member of his did so long ago? It just didn't seem fair.
I was so lost in thought that when he dropped his fork onto his plate, the sharp noise of it nearly made me topple backwards.
Adam lurched from his chair, pulling at that torn jacket. I'd told him to get rid of it, but he just wouldn't. He said it reminded him of what he'd done.
"It's happening..." he said, his face already twisting with pain.
Sunlight still came in through the windows. It was so early for this. Still, I jumped out of my chair and made my way around to him. I'd become somewhat accustomed to his transformation now. And this worried me.
It was getting faster, every time. I wrapped his arm around my shoulder even as waves of fear washed through me. There was already a deep rumble in his throat, and if he opened his clenched eyes I knew they'd be a different color.
I almost dropped him down the stairs to the basement as we made our way down.
I yelped as his fingernails turned to claws and pushed into the flesh of my shoulder.
"Steph... I'm so sorry, Steph..." he groaned, not even sounding like himself anymore.
"It’s okay, you're going to be fine. It's all going to be fine," I said through my teeth, unsure if I even believed myself anymore.
He practically jumped into the scarred room with the big door. The first few nights, I'd sat in front of it, listening to his tortured noises as he became the wolf. Tonight, they receded behind me as I walked back up the stairs and to the kitchen.
There, I pulled out my phone and put it down by my now cold plate of spaghetti. I kept thinking about what Vick had said, right before I left him in the frat house.
He'd said, "What if next time it's you?"
I thought about that, turning it over in my mind, my body curiously cold. It still hadn't snowed outside yet, but the chill was a bitter one. I always wore a long-sleeved sweater and full jeans each day.
What if tomorrow he transformed before I got him through the door? Then it really would be me. What if for some reason I wasn't around, and it happened to him and got outside?
Then whoever died because of it... their blood would be on both our hands, then. I wasn't certain Adam could take another murder.
And we still hadn't found Jenn's body.
I brought up Facebook and looked at her profile. There were messages on her wall from family and friends, imploring her to come back, to let everyone know she was okay.
Those wrenched at my heart, because I knew she wasn't okay. That she'd never respond to any of them ever again. I pulled up her profile picture.
Downstairs, the wolf howled. No matter how many times I heard that sound, I never got used to it. It pierced right through the floorboards and the walls, went into my body and tickled at the base of my spine.
I shut my eyes, waiting for him to finish. It went on far too long. It was a good thing he didn't really have any close neighbors. Anyone who heard it would be calling the cops right away.
I asked myself why I was still doing all this. Why was I helping him at all? Vick watched us, I knew. He let my see him a couple times.
Each instance, our eyes had met. It was a look that said, "Why are you doing this? Leave him alone, and I'll take care of it."
Maybe it was that it all seemed so hopeless. There was no cure for lycanthropy, as far as Adam and I could find out. He was doomed to spend his life like this.
It was a similar feeling to when I first found out about mom's cancer. The doctors had all rated her chance for survival quite low, especially since our insurance made it clear that they wouldn't be covering any of the new and experimental procedures and drugs.
It had all been hopeless, then, too. But then that pharmaceutical company came along, our lifeboat on that stormy sea. Every time I talked to mom on the phone, she sounded a little better, a little stronger.
I guess I was holding out for a similar raft to find Adam and me out there as the waves tossed up about. Right now, I'd settle for some life jackets, or even just a couple pairs of those little arm floaters that little kids liked so much.
Just any sign of hope would do.
My bed was a big, overstuffed black couch in a small study down the hall from the kitchen. Adam had offered me a room upstairs, but it felt so lonely up there, so quiet.
I fluffed my pillow and stared up at the ceiling, hoping to wake up to that glimmer of hope we both needed so badly.
Chapter 30
As per our usual arrangement, Adam dropped my off at my dorm the next morning. He looked haggard and hopeless, all the blood gone from his face as I stepped out of the car.
The campus seemed especially busy today. I had to jump out of the way as a gaggle of students made their way past on the sidewalk, ignoring me as they spoke excitedly among themselves.
I walked up the path towards my dorm, looking around, feeling a little strange. Something was really off, today.
All the students moved about in groups no smaller than three or four. If it was an all-girl group, then six or seven seemed more the minimum.
And through all that was the quiet. Yeah, there were tons of people around, but they all whispered to each other so that a car driving by in the distance was enough noise to
wash them out.
It was all so unnerving that I speed-walked up to my room and closed the door behind me. Class was coming up in about forty five minutes, and in that time I had to shower, change, and try to get as much of the reading done as I could manage.
I grabbed up my shower supplies, bundling them all in my towel, when my cell buzzed.
I had it on silent, but the sudden noise still startled me. I grabbed it up from my desk and frowned down at the number. It was one I didn't recognize.
Who had my number? And why were they calling now? The phone buzzed against my palm as I bit my lip, looking down at it. Should I answer? What if it was Eric ready with another disgusting pickup line or offer?
That was ridiculous. How could he get my number?
Shaking my head at my own ideas, I hit the answer button and held the cell to my ear.
"Hello?" I said.
"Uh, yeah. Hi?" a girl's voice said. It sounded somewhat familiar. "Is this Stephanie?"
"...Yes?" I said, shifting my bundle in my arm, trying to find a comfortable position for it.
"Oh, hey! This is Michelle Stein."
"Who?"
"I lived down the hall from Jenn. Look, I, like, just wanted to say I'm really sorry about all that. If it was my friend, I just don't know how I'd handle it. I'd flip."
I remembered her now, one of the blonde girls in Jenn's dorm. I'd given my number to her to call in case she saw or heard from Jenn. Was Michelle the one with the straight hair, or the curls? I couldn't remember.
Sitting down on the bed I hadn't slept on in a week, I shifted the cell to my other ear. A sick feeling started building in my stomach. My mind couldn't help connecting what was going on outside to this phone call, though I didn't really see any logical reason for them to be counted together.
"What do you mean? What's going on?"
"Oh, she totally doesn't know!" Michelle said. There was another voice in the background I couldn't make out. I figured she was talking to the other blonde girl.
"You need to check out the school's website, K? And we're both really sorry. Okay? Umm... bye, I guess?"
"Bye," I said, nudging the hang up button with my thumb before dropping my phone on my towel-bundled shower gear.
My laptop was on my desk, right where I'd left it. I hadn't really turned that on all week, either. I was lucky enough to find any time to get any school work done, let alone socializing. This morning, I hadn't even checked Facebook on my phone. It was all just going to be more of the same. And I just didn't feel like reading any more about whatever party or get-together Jim was setting up for the weekend.
I felt nervous as I flipped the laptop open and watched it wake up. A few seconds later, I'd pulled up Internet Explorer.
My homepage was already set to Redeemer. The school top page was a news feed, always talking about this conference or that, or how one of its already rich alumni had done something to make him or herself even wealthier than they'd already been (all thanks to a solid and classic education at New England's premier private university, of course).
Today, there was a big, ugly banner at the top of the feed saying that counselors were available to students who felt they needed it in this tragic time.
My heart lodged itself in my throat as I forced my eyes to continue down that feed. Somehow, I already knew what it was going to say.
The blue-colored link read: "Body of Redeemer student found on campus."
My mouth went dry. My heart pounded so hard I could taste blood at the back of my throat. I don't know why I reacted the way I did. I knew it was going to happen eventually, that she was dead and gone.
But not being able to find her body had kept it all open ended, somehow. Kept it from being real. It was like that cat Dr. Hackett had talked about for some reason a couple weeks ago. It had come up in response to a question during lecture, though I couldn't for the life of me remember it now.
Anyway, the cat was sealed in a box you had no way of seeing inside. In there, its fate was uncertain. At any particular moment in time, you could consider the cat both alive and dead.
Clicking that link was like opening the box to find that the poor little thing was dead and gone.
Except not nearly as trite as all that, because Jenn had been a living person with hopes and dreams and fears, and for a small amount of time there our lives had touched.
My eyes glazed over with tears so that the words on the screen were blurry and hard to read.
"The body of first year student Jennifer McClaughlin was discovered by a staff member on a pitch near the Arnold building. Authorities have released little information. However, there is reason to believe a murder investigation will be taking place shortly. Classes in the Arnold building have been moved to facilities in the student center. More information will be provided as it becomes available to us..."
It went on about how Jenn was a beloved and bright student, and about how Redeemer is still statistically one of the safest campuses in the country and to not be alarmed, but I closed the laptop before I could finish.
I buried my face in my hands and closed my eyes, willing the blackness I found there to swallow me up.
Chapter 31
This was not how life was supposed to go. It felt like I had jumped my track somewhere along the line. I'd missed some crucial turnoff, and now I was due for a train wreck.
Where it happened, I couldn't really say. It might have been the cancer. It might have been that night I'd seen Adam at Jim's party. But did it really matter where it was?
But location was important. Like when we'd tried to find Jenn ourselves. We'd checked the campus. I know we did.
We looked by the Arnold building, through all the little groups of trees and the trails all around there. Why hadn't we found her ourselves, then?
My breaths shuddered in and out of my body. It felt like my throat was trying to close up. I focused on breathing, forcing the air into me and then pushing it back out.
Something was wrong here. I was missing something. What that thing was, I had no idea.
"Stephanie?"
Someone knocked on my door, three quick, confident raps. My back stiffened in shock. I almost breathed a sigh of relief at the interruption. I could feel myself slipping down into despair and depression.
Vick's voice was like a lifeline, tossed down the side of the cliff. All I had to do was grab onto it and let him pull me up.
I opened my door. Vick looked down at me with concern in his eyes. A brief and inappropriate excitement tingled in my stomach before I could squish that feeling down. Now was not the time to admire the marvelous bone structure of his face, or the clarity of those eyes.
I opened the door farther so that he could come in. He stood in the middle of my room, looking around at it with his hands shoved into his pockets.
"You heard," I said, closing my door and leaning against it.
"Everyone's heard. Haven't you seen what the place is like today? People are worried and scared. I don't think there's been a murder in this town in a long time. How are you doing?"
I wanted to say something, but when I opened my mouth nothing came out by a choked sob. I slid down the door, burying my face in my hands.
It all hit me again. She was really gone. They'd found her body, identified it and everything.
Vick sat down beside me, putting one arm over my shoulders. I leaned against him, burying me face against his letterman jacket.
"It's okay," he said, stroking the back of my head, letting my hair pass between his fingers.
It wasn't okay. We both knew that. It was just something socially acceptable for him to say right then.
Still, it did make me calm down a little. It did make me feel a little better.
"I'm sorry..." I said, wiping at my cheeks. I looked at the wet spot I'd left on his jacket.
When he saw where I was looking, he smiled. "Don't worry about it. We need to talk... about Adam."
I nodded, still trying to claw back some o
f my composure. He took that as a signal to continue.
"I knew you couldn't quite believe it before. But now you do. Look, I know that most of the time, Adam's a good guy. But when he turns into the werewolf, he isn't. You know what he can do. You know what has to be..."
"Okay," I said.
Vick stopped talking. Clearly, he'd prepared some long, well-reasoned argument. My sudden agreement must have been quite the shock.
A look of suspicion crossed his finely-chiseled features. I could practically hear him thinking, "What's going on? This is too easy."
Pushing myself to my feet, I went over and sat at my laptop. When I woke it up, it was still on the announcement recounting the discovery of Jenn's body. I could feel Vick standing behind me, peering down at the words that had ultimately made up my mind.
"What do you mean?" he said finally, apparently unable to bear the silence any longer.
"I mean you're right. Adam's good, but the thing in him is evil. You have my help, if you want it."
"I do..." he said. I heard the note of uncertainty in his voice, and I knew it wasn't about my ability to help him bring that monster down.
If I had to guess, it was about himself. This was something like his monster hunting bar-mitzvah, after all. When he did this, he'd be an equal in the eyes of his family. He'd be a full-fledged member of their little gang, able to take care of himself and all that.
But I thought it might go a bit deeper, as well. From his reaction toward Adam, I think he expected some sort of all consuming, evil lunatic and that he'd be morally in the right for doing what had to be done.
Doing what had to be done involved getting rid of a perfectly fine human being. That's what was getting to him.
I found myself on the offensive, then. The end goal, bringing some justice into this awful world for a wrongful death, was so close I could smell and taste it like I'd been able to smell and taste the pizza at the frat house.
It felt like a certainty in a life full of chance and misfortune.
I got out of my chair and turned to face him down. This was more difficult than it sounded, since he was probably a good foot taller than I was. I would stare him down metaphorically.