by Reed, Zoe
“Glad I could help.” Camille gave the tiniest huff of sympathetic laughter, and a wave of relief washed over me that at least she didn’t sound cheerless anymore. “Do me a favor though, and let’s not make it a habit.”
“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll do my best,” I told her honestly. “Can I really go home soon?”
“Yeah, but remember to Change as often as you can,” she said, her voice growing serious. “Just call here and one of us will go with you.”
I nodded. I knew I had to Change often, and I also knew I shouldn’t go running alone. Not because I was in danger, but because I was still so new to it. If my instincts took over someone could get hurt.
We sat there for a minute in silence, me thinking about what to say and Camille glancing around uncomfortably. I’d wanted so badly to make amends with her so we could fix our relationship, but I never got her alone. Now might be my only chance. I watched her for a second, waiting until I could catch her darting eyes. Then her stare met mine, and our gazes lingered long enough for me to open my mouth, preparing to start the difficult conversation. She must have read my mind though, because the second I opened my mouth she stood awkwardly.
“I, um,” she hesitated, tapping her fingers thoughtfully against the surface of the table, and once more refusing to look right at me, and that agony was once more reinstated in her tone. “I still have homework.”
Before she could dart out of the kitchen, Luna came in impatiently with her hands on her hips. “Can we go now? It’s starting to get really cold and the sun’s going down soon.” I glimpsed the time on the clock – it was already five. I got up to follow Luna out, but she stood there watching Camille. “Are you going to come?”
Camille looked thoughtfully from Luna to me, and, especially because she’d just avoided my attempt at talking about us, I expected her to decline. To my surprise, and much to my joy, she nodded and moved to go with us. The only other time she’d gone running with us was the first time I Phased. Even though I usually tried to give her space and time to forgive me, I was excited for her to see how far I’d come.
Stepping onto the porch, each of us stripped and then Phased. Being the last to finish, I looked around for where Camille and Luna had gone, and found them play fighting on the side of the house. Once they saw that I was ready to go, the two wolves took off across the farm, and I gladly followed. It felt so good to Change after having to stop it, and it felt even better to be on good enough terms with Camille for her to go running with us. It was a start at repairing our relationship, even if she wouldn’t really talk to me, and it filled me with hope that soon we’d be back to the way we were. Running also gave me an excuse to be close to her, and I ran as close to her side as I could, my tongue hanging happily out of my mouth. Soon.
“Hey, Kyla, wake up.” Camille lightly shook me by the shoulder. “Are you ready to go home?”
I groaned and sat up lazily, shielding my eyes from the light pouring through the open window until Camille graciously pulled the shades halfway shut. I would finally be going home today, and I had never been more nervous for anything in my life. I’d been up almost all night fretting over it, running through every ‘what if’ I could think of, and it seemed that I’d only just fallen asleep minutes ago.
After stretching I got out of bed and looked around the room. Since I’d been here I’d mostly been sharing clothes with Camille and Luna, and because I didn’t go anywhere in human form my requirement for a variety of options was limited. What few items I owned personally lay scattered around the room. A pair of jeans draped across the desk chair. A couple wrinkled t-shirts and undergarments thrown into the corner.
While I walked around and shoved my stuff into my backpack, Camille took my jacket off the nightstand and sat on the bed, anxiously wringing the article in her hands. “Are you sure you’re ready?”
I took a last glance around the room, and then pulled on the jacket Camille handed me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it kind of sounded like she didn’t want me to leave, and hearing that tone from her was starting to give me second thoughts. Not only was I unsure of if I was ready or not, but I feared that if I wasn’t living at the Zade house our relationship would dwindle to nothing.
“No,” I admitted, plopping down beside her. “But my family needs to know I’m okay.”
She nodded in hesitant agreement, and we sat there for a minute in silence before Niko yelled up at us to hurry because they had to leave for school. I stood and studied Camille’s face, as she hadn’t yet gotten up. She was worried, that much was obvious, but there was something more. Reluctance? Before I got a chance to ask about it she stood and walked to the door, making her usual exit before I could have a real conversation with her.
I followed her out, and we both hopped into the jeep with Niko and Luna. Before Niko drove off I took a final gander at the large house I’d spent the last two months in. The old porch swing on the side of the wooden deck, the creaky screen door that was almost always open and was releasing light out into the dim morning, straight down to the fading white exterior paint that desperately needed a new coat. Even if I didn’t feel completely at home here, I’d grown to love it all.
On the drive to my house nobody spoke. All of us hardly breathed. I had no idea how my family would react to me coming home. If they’d be happy, or sad, or furious. Or even want me back at all. I could only imagine the pain that I’d caused, and while I hadn’t written the runaway note in the first place, I had chosen to stay at Camille’s all this time.
Niko stopped the car at the end of my long driveway, and we all sat for another minute before any of us spoke. During the silence I studied each of my comrades. I could hear every one of their hearts racing along with my own, each of them nervous for me. I’d expected as much from Camille and Luna, but I was pleasantly surprised that Niko was bothered to see me go. He was always the first to fight and the last to show he had any emotions. If he hadn’t grown so playful with me over the past eight weeks I’d have thought for the rest of my life that he simply didn’t like me.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?” Camille warily looked past me to the house at the end of the small road.
“I should do this on my own.” I followed her gaze and suddenly felt sick. I was scared. Regardless of whether or not I had parents and siblings of my own, Camille’s family were all I’d known lately, and I didn’t understand why this felt like goodbye. Would my real family even want me back?
Not knowing what else to say, I smiled my goodbye and opened the car door. After closing it behind me I stood and stared at the house for a good three minutes before taking a step forward. Then I heard the jeep sluggishly pull away behind me, and I continued to walk up the driveway. It was slow going. My nerves threatened to buckle my knees beneath me. The house seemed to grow substantially larger every step I took. The gray-stone exterior had never seemed so frighteningly dark, and the white trim never so blindingly bright.
From the front I could see a light on upstairs, and the kitchen light from downstairs, but other than that the house was black. Finally, I reached the porch, from where I could hear someone in the kitchen doing dishes. My knees shook more and more violently the closer I got to the front door, until eventually I stood directly in front of it, feeling lightheaded. I turned the handle and walked in, cautiously and quietly making my way to the kitchen.
I stopped in the doorway. My mom stood there, still in her purple, cloud-patterned silk pajamas. Her back was turned at the sink and she hadn’t heard me walk in. “Mom.” I barely got the words out. She froze for a moment as if hearing a ghost, and then shook her head in disbelief and returned to the dishes. I took a couple steps forward and mustered the courage to speak louder. “Mom.”
Haltingly, my mother looked over her shoulder, and seeing me standing there instantly turned, staring. I felt tears stinging my eyes, mirroring the water welling up in hers. “Hi, Mom.” I managed a small, nervous smile.
&nb
sp; My mom looked exhausted and hopeless. Her normally brilliant blue eyes were dim and empty, surrounded by deep age lines and dark circles. It was like she hadn’t slept a single minute the whole time I was gone.
“Kyla?” Her voice broke into a near sob as she took a few unsteady steps forward and covered her mouth with her hand. “Is it really you?”
When I nodded she rushed forth and pulled me into her arms. I dropped my backpack to the floor and wrapped my own arms around her waist, taking in a deep breath. The wonderfully comforting smell that flooded my nose caused tears to stream freely down my cheeks. Not only did my mom look tired beyond belief, she felt frail. She’d always been a thin woman, but she’d lost a lot of weight, and she felt fragile in my strong embrace. She pulled away to look at me, mouth opening and closing in a speechless stupor. Her fingertips hovered over my face, like she was afraid to touch me and find I was only an apparition. A few seconds later she gently touched my forehead, then my cheekbones, she pushed my hair behind my ears, and traced my jawline.
“Are you–where–you look so healthy. You’re not hurt? Oh my God, we thought we’d never see you again.” Her voice broke again into heavy sobs, and she pulled me into another tight clutch.
“I’m okay, Mom. I’m okay,” I assured her, patiently letting her hug me for as long as she needed to.
Pulling away promptly, she looked at me again, and this time she seemed angry. “Where the hell have you been? Do you know how worried we’ve been?” Guess she hadn’t forgotten I’d run away in the first place.
I stared at the floor, my face burning bright red, embarrassed and unsure of what to say. I could never answer the question truthfully. “I’m sorry. I’m back now.”
I heard footsteps from behind me, and seconds later the scent of my oldest brother, Jeremy, reached my nose. I turned to look at him and grinned. “Hey, J.”
“Holy-” His jaw dropped, eyes wide with confusion and disbelief. After a minute of staring he grinned, grabbed me in his arms, and lifted me two feet into the air, spinning me around happily. Setting me back down on the ground, he stepped back and looked at me concernedly. “Are you back? You’re not going anywhere right?”
“No,” I shook my head, laughing for lack of a better reaction. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Jeremy directed me to the island in the middle of the kitchen, and we sat down beside each other. While I was greeting him my mom had picked up the phone and called my dad.
Hanging up, she turned and studied me for a moment, still unsure of whether I was really there or not. Or maybe she was unsure of whether or not to be pissed. “Your father and uncle were in town running errands. They’re coming home now. Are you hungry? How about a sandwich?”
I nodded and smiled my thanks. While I ate I could feel all eyes on me, watching and studying, as if waiting for me to disappear. My other brother, Scott, had come down in the middle of my meal and greeted me much the same as Jeremy had, and again I reassured him that I wouldn’t be leaving. I repeated the process a third time when my dad and uncle arrived home. Despite the fact that I was still incredibly apprehensive, I was glad to be back. I knew I’d missed my family, but I hadn’t realized just how much until we were all together.
Granted, it was strange. Every one of them looked as tired as my mother had, filling me with guilt at the fact that my disappearance had such an impact on them. Depressing as it might have been to think about, I somewhat expected them to be on with their lives. So we didn’t speak much for lack of anything to say, but their eyes never left me.
After my mom had finished feeding me all I could eat, she suggested I go and get settled back into my room. Unsure of whether they’d be comfortable with me out of their sights, but in desperate need of a break from their gawking, I gladly made my way upstairs. My room was just as I’d left it, although it had been cleaned – the dirty clothes I’d left on the floor were washed and put back in the drawers, and the bed was made.
I sat on the fluffy orange comforter and looked around the long-empty room. It felt weird. I’d grown so accustom to the smells and sounds of Camille’s house that it had become comfortable, and even though I was back home, I didn’t feel like I belonged here either. Already I felt trapped. The wolf inside me wanted out. I lied back on the bed and put my hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling. The kitchen was right under my bedroom, and I could hear my mom and dad below me talking.
“I’m glad she’s back too, Eric, but it’s not okay. She’s a seventeen-year-old girl who was gone for two months without giving us a clue about where she was.” My mom sounded upset, confused. “There need to be consequences. I don’t know how to deal with this.”
“We’ll get her a psychologist. Doesn’t the high school have counselors for this kind of thing?” I sighed at my dad’s question. Seeing a psychologist was the last thing I needed.
“Is that enough? How do we know she won’t take off again? We don’t even know why she left in the first place. I thought she was happy.” I heard my mom start crying, and I was flooded with more remorse. I wanted to hug her, tell her that I was happy, that I’d never been happier. But I couldn’t, they could never know what happened.
“You’re right, we don’t know if she’ll leave. So we need to do our best to be understanding.” I heard the scraping of a stool against the floor as my dad stood up. “Come on, let’s go talk to her.”
I waited patiently on the bed until my parents knocked gently on the door. They both walked in, and while I sat up and leaned against the headboard they took a seat at the edge of the mattress.
“Kyla, we need to talk,” my dad said in the softest voice he could produce. His thinning black hair had started showing strands of gray, and the wrinkles in his forehead had deepened. If I hadn’t been keeping track of time, I’d have thought I was gone for years. I nodded knowingly. “Were you,” he paused, like he wasn’t sure how to say what he wanted. “Did someone force you to leave?” He meant was I kidnapped. I wanted to nod. The grievous look on his face made me want so badly to tell them the truth, and it was like they already knew, because even though Jonathan had left that note, they still asked. But I shook my head instead.
“You left on your own?” he clarified, and this time, though it panged me to do it, I nodded. “Me and your mother were worried sick about you. We thought–” He paused, shut his eyes tight, and swallowed. “We thought you were dead. Don’t you ever put us through anything like that ever again.” I stared at my knees and nodded once more, feeling too guilty to look them in the eyes. Then, to my surprise, he leaned forward and hugged me again, “We’re glad you’re back though, and safe.”
My mom nodded her agreement. “We’d like nothing more than for everything to go back to normal. But you do understand that there are repercussions to what you did?” Again I nodded, still without making eye contact. “You’ll return to school tomorrow. You’re grounded for pretty much the rest of your life, so you’ll come straight home after your classes. No cell phone, no computer, and we’re going to talk to the high school about you seeing a psychologist.”
After a moment of silence I glanced up to meet my parents’ gazes. I didn’t like the punishment I was receiving, but I’d take it for the hell I put them through. “Okay. That’s fair.”
Both of them sat there uneasily. “Kyla,” my dad said, and his eyes grew sad, disappointed. “Where were you?”
My breath caught in my throat, creating a lump the size of a bowling ball. I knew the question would come, but I didn’t think answering it would be so hard. I closed my eyes, forcefully sucking a breath past the knot. “I was safe.”
Discontent and a bit of anger at my lack of response flashed across my father’s face, but he caught himself and said, “Well, when you’re ready to talk, we’re here.”
I half-smiled my thanks for them not making it harder on me than it already was, and they reluctantly left me alone to have some time to myself. At least I’d gone for a run the night before. If I hadn’t al
l this tension would have left me itching for a Phase. A tiny glimmer from next to the desk caught my eye. My guitar. I grinned as I reached over and picked it up, lightly picking at the strings. It was out of tune, most likely because Scott had been messing with it. He had a habit of trying to teach himself new hobbies, and multiple times before he’d used my guitar for practice.
Bending my head closer to the instrument, I strummed at it while turning the tuning pegs. There we go, I grinned again and started playing. It felt so good to play. It gave me something to focus on, something to clear my mind of everything I had to deal with and fake. Running was a nice time waster, but playing was an escape. One I’d been missing and desperately needing. I played for the rest of the day, breaking to eat and take a nap, until my parents came up to say goodnight and, I assumed, make sure I was still there, and eventually I fell asleep.
***
“They seriously made you talk to the cops?” Camille asked in shock as we walked down the hall toward our lockers. Luna had taken stride beside us as Camille said that, and her eyes widened with similar surprise.
“Yeah,” I sighed. “We had to let them know I turned up so they could stop searching. They asked me so many questions.” We reached the lockers and I opened mine to switch out some books. “I kept having to say that I ran away and wasn’t kidnapped. The police looked furious. My parents looked mortified.” Then I added sarcastically, “It was great fun.”
“And they’re really making you go to the school psychologist?” Luna asked as her and Camille leaned against the wall next to me.
I nodded and shut my own locker, leaning my head against it with a disapproving frown. “Yup. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. I have to go right now, actually.”
Luna took her back off the wall so Camille could get to her locker, and moved to stand in front of me. “How is it being home?”