Masked SheWolf

by Yara Gharios

  I start playing at the same time that I start singing. I tap my foot against the floor in a rhythmic pattern. The more that the song and lyrics build, the more I feel the rush of playing. When I get to the chorus, I throw my body back and start nodding my head with the music and the thudding of my foot. I don't linger too much on the higher notes because my voice is much better on the low ones.

  When I'm done, I smile at the camera again. "Thank you. I hope to see you at the audition."

  And I hit stop.

  "Oh my God," I hear a voice say from my door and sharply turn.

  All the blood drains from my face. "Sadie," I mumble in shock.

  Shit. I didn't close the doors.

  "Oh... my God," she emphasizes. "You're... you're... Dylan, you're not a boy?" It comes out more as a question than a statement.

  Is it too late to use the denial approach?

  "Yes I am," I frantically insist.

  She points an angry finger at me, suddenly not so much in shock anymore. "No, no, no! I heard you with my own ears!" she snaps. Gone is sweet bubbly Sadie. Whoever this girl is, she is furious.

  Panic grips my insides and makes it harder for me to breathe. "Sadie," I beg. "It's not... You're... You're confused." But even I can hear the outright lie.

  It dawns on me just then that in all the years my family and I have spent taking precautions so that my secret never gets out, we never prepared ourselves for the possibility that it might. I have literally no idea what to do here, and I'm scared as hell. I'm trained to avoid this type of situation, not face it!

  "Don't try to make me look like the idiot here!" she retorts. "I heard it in your voice! I still hear it now!"

  I cough and attempt to mask my voice the way I always do. "Sadie, you're imagining things," I say again.

  I know, it's pointless, but what the hell am I supposed to do? I'm panicking too much to be able to think straight. The only plan I'm forming in my mind right now is "deny, deny, deny, and hope she buys it."

  Her eyes suddenly go wide and she covers her mouth with her hands. "Oh my God," she whispers. "Oh, my God, I can hear it now; I can tell that it's fake."

  "Sadie," I desperately try again, my guy voice slipping.

  She gasps, something else seeming to dawn on her. "That's why you didn't want to sing yesterday, isn't it?"

  I give up the denial plan and instead opt for silence.

  "I skipped school when I didn't see you there, and I came here to apologize for being so pushy, even though Cade is completely against it, but now..." she trails off, looking horrified.

  The biggest part of me is still freaking out, and thinking, Oh my God, she knows! She knows! I have to do something! Don't just stand there quietly, DO SOMETHING!

  But another part of me, a much, much smaller part, is hurt by her reaction, her rejection. Is it really that horrifying that I'm actually a girl?

  I need to say something; anything. "How did you get here?"

  It speaks!

  And obviously, it says the wrong thing.

  "Cade drove me," she replies robotically. "He's waiting downstairs." She pauses and her eyes become unfocused. "I need to talk to him."

  And that's when my thoughts clear up a little. Sadie finding out is one thing, but Cade... that's another thing altogether. That's one step closer to Logan finding out, which means the whole pack, and that is something I am most definitely not ready for.

  I grab her wrist to stop her. "No, Sadie, you can't tell him, you can't tell anyone," I desperately plead with her.

  She winces and struggles to free her hand. There's a red mark left behind from my fingers.

  Shit, I didn't mean to hurt her!

  "I have to go," she frantically says and then runs out of the room.

  "Sadie, wait!" I call out and start going after her.

  But then it registers what she said; Cade is waiting for her here. I'm still in the danger zone; I can't go out there. But what if he comes storming in when he sees the mark on her wrist?

  Hastily, I run back into my room, lock the door and hide in my bathroom, wishing with all my heart that I could have just gone after her and explained myself. She might have understood, and we would still have a shot at remaining friends. It's too late now.

  Chapter 18

  Daniel

  Zoey and I have gone out on two dates, and I still haven't kissed her once. I've waited way less for way more before. But I don't know why, with Zoey, everything just feels... brand new, and I don't want to blow it. It's not about buying her silence or even giving her someone to talk to, anymore. I'm happy when we're just talking, and that's unusual behavior for me. I'm waiting to see what happens, though, which is why I haven't rushed into anything.

  Although I'm still seeing her at school, when I skip most -or all- of English class to sit with her at lunch, I am still limited to certain things. For one thing, we're at a public place, and we could both get into trouble if we're caught, mostly me because I'm not attending my class. Then there's the fact that we're sitting under the stairs outside the cafeteria, and she can't stay away long or the classmates that she sits with at lunch will notice her missing. That's why I'm really looking forward to taking her out again, just the two of us.

  For our third date, precisely ten days after the first one, I know exactly how to surprise her. I'm not sure if she's going to like it or not, but at least she won't see it coming. I pick her up from the usual spot outside school. I had to bargain with Connor to get the car again. He's starting to suspect something, so I'm planning on telling Zoey that we should minimize the number of times we go out a week.

  She smiles at me when she hops in the car. "Hi," she says brightly and kisses my cheek.

  She started doing that a couple of days ago, when I made her laugh. I cherish those moments. By now, she's used to seeing me in my basketball uniform during our dates, but I'm hoping she won't see the duffel bag I hid behind her seat.

  "Hi," I greet her back. "Ready for some fun?"

  "Define fun," she requests.

  I grin. "You'll see. You're going to love it."

  I'm not sure if she will, truthfully, but I'm hoping she'll at least see the humor in it. When we get there, though, she bursts out laughing, and I know that she does.

  "I gave you an idea instead of suppressing one, didn't I?" she guesses as I park the car in front of the deserted basketball court.

  "A hell of a good one, too," I add. "Prepare for the time of your life."

  "Daniel, I can't play basketball in a skirt and sandals," she protests.

  I hold the duffel bag out for her. "Then it's a good thing I brought you my spare uniform, isn't it?"

  She beams and shakes her head. "You're unbelievable."

  And yet, you're taking the bag, I notice with delight.

  She makes me stand watch outside the car as she changes. I pretend to sneak a peek, but she chastises me immediately. When she emerges, I can't help noticing she's no longer cute in my uniform; she's hot. She's wearing clothes that are normally on me. How am I not supposed to find that sexy?

  "What's first?" she asks, excitement making her jumpy. I like this side of her.

  "Do you know how to shoot?"

  She gives me a flat look. "Once again, you underestimate me."

  With a few steps, Zoey is at my side yanking the ball from my hands. She bounces it a few times on the ground then stands several steps away from the hoop, outside the three-point zone. I cross my arms and watch her with amusement.

  "Who's over-confident now?" I tease.

  She doesn't acknowledge me and just rolls the ball in her hands a couple of times, eyes fixed on the hoop.

  This I have to see.

  She bends her knees and hops, throwing the ball simultaneously. It soars right into the ring, without even touching the net. Then she smiles innocently at my shocked expression.

  "Aw, are you sad that you don't have an excuse to press up together anymore?" she taunts me. The thing is, I am. That was my whole p
lan. "It's okay, I can pretend to be terrible, and you can show me some pointers."

  I can still turn this around. If she's competitive enough, I can still get some closeness under the pretense of wanting to win.

  I mock-glare at her. "Fine, let's see how you handle yourself one-on-one."

  She brings her hands challengingly. "Bring it on."

  On principle, I have to go easy on her. Not because she's a girl, but because I'm trying to make her happy, which is her excuse for physical closeness. But she's proving herself to be very good. You know, for a human girl. I don't intend to let her win, but I accidentally do, because I'm going so easy on her that she is noticing my weaknesses.

  After about fifteen minutes, I have to call a time out. She's starting to get really tired. I don't want to exhaust her. We sit down by the hoop and I hand her one of two bottles of energy drinks I've brought with me. She gulps down half of it.

  "It's really not fair that you have superhuman strength and stamina," she complains.

  "Right, because that's why I'm not sweaty," I reply.

  She makes a face as she takes a gulp. "Shut up, you know I'm good."

  I drop the pretense. "You are, actually," I allow. "Were you pretending to get the name wrong last time?"

  She smirks but doesn't answer.

  "How did you get so good?"

  While she's closing the bottle again, she shrugs and answers me. "My dad used to be a high school basketball coach, way before he met my mom. He had his own website where he posted his classes and tips and stuff like that."

  I frown. "Why didn't you ask him to train you himself?"

  She looks up at me, and her expression is completely changed. "My other dad."

  My face falls. "Oh."

  "Yeah," she seconds. "Anyway, I joined the basketball team in my last school. It was the closest connection I had with him. Until... you know."

  "Then you gave it up?" I guess.

  She nods. "Maybe not entirely, or else I wouldn't have agreed to this. But... at the time, it was more than just a way to relate to him. I didn't have any close friends I could confide in. My sister is my best friend, but... she's with Cade a lot, and sometimes those couple-y moments coincide with the times I need her. I can't take those moments away from her. So I found another outlet in basketball."

  Of all the things we could have had in common, this is the last thing I would have expected. But it's also the best coincidence that could have occurred.

  "How are you with the whole, you know, brother thing?" I ask, genuinely concerned.

  She smiles tentatively. "I'm okay," she assures me. "I guess I just needed time. I'm still struggling with the cheating dad part, but I'm not freaking out about John anymore. Of course, I haven't seen him since that one time, so I don't know how I would handle-"

  I cut her off. "Why don't you?"

  "Why don't I what?"

  "Why don't you meet him?" I suggest cautiously. "I mean, really meet him. Introduce yourself."

  Her eyes widen. "You mean tell him we're related?"

  I shrug. "Yeah. Maybe it will help you move past your dad's mistake. Maybe you'll even like your brother. Maybe he already knows about you but he just didn't recognize you. Any of these could be true, you never know."

  "Or maybe the reminder will just be too much for me and I will make a fool of myself and become miserable again," she counters. "Or maybe Trent was living a double life before he died and had two families. Or maybe John's mother was his real wife and my mom was the one he cheated with. Any of these could be true, too."

  "I'm sorry, it was just a suggestion," I try to pacify her.

  Zoey shakes her head adamantly. "It's too risky."

  My resolve grows again. "You mean you're afraid," I state. "You know, maybe the only way for you to get over it is by meeting John, finding out he's just as much of a jerk as your father was and putting them both out of your life for good. Yeah, it's a risk, but so what? Are you going to sulk your entire life without doing anything to change how you feel? Don't you want to be happy? Don't you think you deserve to be?"

  I can see her determination wavering, but she's still too scared to admit defeat. And stubborn. I grab her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze.

  "At least say you'll think about it," I beg.

  A moment later, she sighs and looks at me with a pained expression. "Alright, I will think about it," she relents. Smiling, I try to kiss her cheek but she stops me. "On one condition."

  I pull back and stare at her uncertainly. "What's that?"

  She hesitates and bites her lip. "I want to tell my family about us first," she announces.

  I'm very surprised, to say the least. "The whole reason we haven't told anyone is because you're not ready."

  "I know," she assures me. "But I've been thinking about it, and there's no reason we can't tell them we're dating without mentioning Trent and John."

  I frown. "I thought you said you're not allowed to date."

  She winces. "Um, yeah, I may have over-exaggerated that part," she confesses. "They never openly forbade me from dating; I just assumed that's what they would say because of my age. I think they might even be happy for me; they love your family."

  "Why did you say that, then?" I think I know the answer, but I want to hear it from her.

  "Because, uh, I wasn't sure I wanted to go out with you at the time."

  That's what I thought. I can't really blame her, though. I wouldn't have gone out with me, either.

  "But I'm glad that I did," she quickly adds. "I like being with you, and I want my family and yours to know it."

  She's the first girl to ever be proud to be in a relationship with me. I can't help smiling at that. "Then let's tell them."

  She doesn't seem as happy as she claims to be. "Daniel... we might have to tell your parents that I know the secret. Mine won't have a reason to suspect anything about John, and they don't even have to know about Michael, but... yours might ask you about it."

  Oh. That's why she's hesitating so much.

  Am I ready to have my family hate me? On the one hand, we've never kept secrets this big from each other. Michael would certainly not talk to me for a long time. But on the other hand, I don't like hiding my relationship with Zoey. It's not something I'm ashamed of; quite the opposite, I still can't believe she's dating me. I want us to be able to go out whenever we want without worrying about what to tell our parents so that they don't get suspicious.

  "I don't know, Zo," I say.

  "It's your decision," she says to reassure me. "When you're ready, you can tell your parents, and then I'll tell mine."

  I nod, wondering how the positions could have been reversed so quickly. "Thank you."

  She smiles back at me, and I know the difficult moment has passed. "That was one surprisingly good speech; about being afraid to be happy."

  I look away sheepishly. I was hoping she wouldn't comment on it. "Yeah, uh, I've been making up a speech like that in my head for a while now... to tell to Michael. I've never had the guts to say it, though. My parents would never forgive me."

  She squeezes my hand reassuringly. Right then, I make up my mind; I will find the right moment and tell my family everything. I am not going to hide this amazing girl anymore like a shameful secret.

  All of my previous confidence evaporates in an instant; I've put myself in a vulnerable position and cannot pretend to still be self-assured anymore. I stare sideways at her, and she stares back evenly, though I hear her heart speeding up. My own heart starts racing in anticipation.

  I feel an urge to kiss her again. It's different this time, though; I'm not drunk, and I actually do care if she wants me to kiss her or not. Maybe what's really different is that some part of me has started to really care about her. That scares me more than anything.

  The age difference is something else, too, because it means I can't rush into things like I'm used to doing. It's not a big difference, I know, but we're young. It counts for more than the three yea
rs between my parents, for example. I don't want to feel like I'm forcing her into anything.

  But at the same time, these days, I'm happier than I've ever been, and it's all because of her. It's a new and strange feeling for me. I don't mind being nervous, as long as I am with her right now.

  Then, I lean in slowly and put my lips against hers for one small moment. I pull back just a little bit and wait, giving her ample time to stop me if she wants to. She breathes heavily a couple of times and tilts her head slightly, inviting me. I capture her lips with a bit less caution this time.

  She tastes like the blueberry energy drink she just had. My hand lifts up to cradle her head, the other going to her neck. She grabs hold of my shirt on both sides and grips it tightly as the kiss intensifies.

  Moments later, we pull away at the same time for air. She puts her forehead against mine, our eyes closed and our breaths mingling.

  I don't feel the usual triumph at reaching that next step. I'm very happy about the kiss, but I'm worried if she is, too. Then I start to doubt whether or not I should have gone for a kiss at all, in case she didn't like it. I was doing very well so far, I don't want to ruin it by rushing.

  "Was that out of line?" I ask her, whispering.

  "A little, maybe," she murmurs back. "I don't know."

  I can't help smiling. "You okay? Not too dizzy?"

  She chuckles and shakes her head. "There it is. Arrogance."

  "It's okay, you can slap me again," I allow.

  "Okay."

  Then she pulls me toward her by my shirt, and we go back to where we were before.

  Chapter 19

  Michael

  During the three days I spend home, I really come to appreciate school. And my cat. Burns is my only companion during my house arrest. He even stays with me when I shift, a fact that's always amazed me. He doesn't get that way with my brothers, but for some reason, when I shift, he doesn't mind being around me. I haven't spent this much time with him since he was a kitten, and that was two years ago.

  My parents refuse to give me back my phone no matter how much I beg. And I seriously beg. But since I can't tell them why I need it, they don't relent. Can you imagine their reaction if I told them that not only was I applying for college and basically going against their word, but that someone also found out my secret? That would be the last straw, for sure. My dad would hate me.