UnMasked

by Yara Gharios

  “You should talk to her,” Cade says.

  I hesitate for a moment. I know that I should do as he says, but there’s something holding me back. “I have to look into my dad’s research first. I want to know what to tell her family. I’m sure they must have thought about the possible connection, and I want to be able to reassure them all that she’s safe.”

  And I want to reassure myself, too, I add to myself.

  Unfortunately, I don’t get the chance to find out much. Life throws me a curveball so hard, I don’t anticipate it coming. That same evening, while I’m going over the case file of the families with kidnapped children and trying to decide where to start, my uncle Cliff stumbles into my office in a haste.

  “She’s gone,” he pants. “Logan, she’s gone. Reena. She locked herself up in her room all day. I thought I was giving her privacy to be sad for a day, but she was gone the whole time. I can’t find her anywhere.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Michael

  I should be scared, shouldn’t I? My secret is out. I revealed it to an entire house full of werewolves. And I’m sure the rest of the pack knows by now, with the way gossip travels these days. I should at least feel guilty for ruining what my parents have spent an eternity trying to keep hidden in just the blink of an eye.

  But I don’t. I’m not the least bit scared.

  There’s a sense of relief that comes with everything being out in the open. No more lying, no more holing up in my room for five days every month, and no more checking over my shoulder every minute to make sure no one notices anything strange about me. I feel kind of free, in a way.

  But then why did I hide in the pack bedroom all weekend, again pretending to be studying for finals? Why did I not eat a single meal with the pack and instead indulged in whatever my mother felt fit to bring up to my room? Even during the following week, I’m walking to school from the early morning, spending lunchtime in the men’s room, and walking back to the pack house alone after last period. Ignoring everyone and being ignored; it’s a cycle that repeats itself all week.

  And why? All because I can’t face Logan.

  My secret being out may not bother me at all, but this definitely does. The sight of him walking out right after I just told him that I’m a girl and want to be with him, has been on replay in my mind since it happened on Saturday. I’m doing everything I can not to see him.

  You would think I’d be even more depressed now that he’s officially rejected me, even after my big reveal. Strangely though, all I feel is anger. I mean, sure, I don’t want to face him. I’m too much of a coward to expect that a direct confrontation wouldn’t end up hurting me again. But I’m so mad that it clouds whatever sadness I was swimming in the previous week.

  How dare he just walk away without so much as blinking an eye? I may not be the greatest person that ever walked the Earth, but I still deserve more than that! He could have called me a liar, told me to prove it or maybe even demanded answers from me. Hell, I would have taken him freaking out and telling me to stay away from him.

  But nothing? If there was anything for him to consider, it’s the fact that we are good friends, or at least were. Did that not mean anything to him anymore?

  The worst part is not from him, though. I’m equally mad at and scared of him, but there’s a self-hatred that’s just as equally present in the mess of emotions dominating my life. It comes from the sad truth that even after how much he hurt me, even with all the anger I’m feeling towards him right now, I still long for him. And I hate it.

  Living under the same roof definitely isn’t helping, but it’s not like I can move out. I’m not eighteen, yet. But I will be soon, and then I can do whatever the hell I want.

  I won’t be staying in this town for a second longer than I have to. Maybe I actually will finalize my Berklee application and go live there. I might as well get an education out of it, right? I could work someplace to pay for my tuition and everything I need. I’ll work my ass off if I need to. Everything will work out just fine.

  Yeah, I know, it’ll never work. I see that flaw in my plan now. Without any help, I’ll probably end up living on the streets, or even in the wilderness in constant wolf form. But I can’t stay here anymore, and I don’t just mean at the pack house. I’m allowed to dream of the best-case scenario though, right?

  There’s a knock on the door that interrupts my very interesting study of the history of Mesopotamia. “Dylan?”

  I sigh and roll my eyes when I recognize her voice. Sadie’s been relentless in her attempts to get me to talk to her again. She’s knocked on my door at least twice every day. It started out with her being sympathetic and all. When I didn’t respond to her, she became authoritarian and demanded that I talk to her. She literally said that.

  After that, she basically tried everything; truthfulness, guilt, pestering, she even tried to get me mad once by talking about meaningless things nonstop for an hour. I’m assuming Cade was the one to stop her when he realized that I wasn’t listening to her anymore and instead had put my headphones on, the music on full blast.

  Cade on the other hand, like my family, has understood my need for privacy and left me alone, even going as far as keeping others from bothering me. But every day, first thing in the morning, and just before she goes to bed, Sadie comes a-knocking on my door, and I do my best to ignore her until she goes away. This time is not going to be any different.

  “I brought you some food,” she tells me. “You missed dinner so I figured you’d be hungry.”

  So she’s back to sympathetic, now. Awesome.

  To be completely honest, I do want to talk to her. Mom too, strangely enough. I’ve missed Sadie, and I know for fact that she’s missed me, because she hasn’t stopped telling me so. But I just don’t want to have to explain everything to anyone, and Sadie’s the kind of person that doesn’t know when to let things go.

  “I’m not going to push you anymore,” she says through the door. “I really did just bring you some food. I swear I won’t even say a word if you open the door and get something to eat.”

  My left eyebrow lifts up by itself. I’m intrigued. I don’t think she’s ever been quiet for longer than ten seconds while she was awake. Curious to know if she can actually keep that promise, I slowly walk to the door and open it for her. She’s standing there with a white bandana on her head with the word ‘truce?’ scrawled on, and a plate of chicken stew on a tray in her hands.

  My eyes flicker up to the bandana, which I promptly ignore, before zeroing in on the stew. I really am hungry. When I look up at her face again, she’s just barely smiling politely while she holds the plate out towards me. I stare at her questioningly, hoping to get her to say something so I could throw it back in her face that she can’t keep a promise.

  But she just stands there and even brings the tray closer to me so I could take it from her. Slowly, hesitantly, I do, and once I’ve pulled it towards me, she simply nods at me and walks away without batting an eyelash.

  Huh. So I guess two weeks is exactly how long it takes Miss Sadie to get the point and back off. Or maybe all she needed was a little encouragement, like the way I snapped at her the other day. I shouldn’t have said that. I know she was offended, and it’s not like I meant to say hurtful things. She just happened to be in the way when I needed to vent out my frustration.

  This little moment of triumph brings me enough joy to smile for the first time in what feels like forever. A genuine smile, at that. It’s not really a huge step, but it’s a start. There’s a silver lining that might lead me to be happy again, somehow.

  Thank you, Sadie, I think to myself, right as I lock the door behind her, settle on my bed and start eating.

  ***

  Almost an entire week goes by in my solitary, self-inflicted confinement before I start craving company again. I miss War Day and spending time with my brothers. I miss talking to Sadie about nothing in particular. I even forgot what my parents sound like when they’re happy with me. T
hey’re not going to come find me on their own; they know me too much. I’m going to have to go to them.

  But I’m nothing if not cautious. I can’t just barge in their rooms one by one and talk to them. And it would be stupid to call them on their phones when we all live under the same roof. What I do is wake up before everyone at five in the morning. I listen to any sound of life in the hallways of the pack house to make sure they’re all sleeping before opening my door and stepping outside. I go to Sadie’s room first, because it’s the closest.

  She’s sprawled over the bed in a weird oblique way, the sheets tangled between her legs and arms. Her face is half covered, with her eyes hidden and her mouth exposed, slack open. I almost laugh at the mere sight of her, but I hold it in. A part of me is glad I’m amused, though. If we’re able to make up, I am so using this against her. Which is why I take out my phone and snap a picture of her before I gently shake her awake.

  “Sadie, wake up!” I whisper.

  She groans and rolls onto her stomach. “It’s too early, Cadey, I’m too tired for that right now,” she mumbles in her sleep.

  I can’t hold my reaction this time and I cover my mouth as I try to muffle my laugh. The sound surprises her enough to wake her, and she shoots up on her forearms, staring at me with wide eyes. She looks like a deer caught in headlights. That’s it; I burst out laughing, but only for a second, because it’s too loud and I don’t want to wake anyone.

  She stares at me for a moment before a wide grin splits across her face and she lunges at me with a hug. “Oh my God, you’re back, I missed you so much,” she rambles on.

  For once, I don’t mind the physical contact. It’s exactly what I need after being isolated for so long. I shush her and laugh with her at the same time. I don’t know how it happened, but I’m too happy to complain right now. She calms down after a minute, but she doesn’t let go of me, knowing I need this and staying silent for my sake. I feel her happiness seeping through my very core and relax along with her. I’ve really missed her.

  “Come on,” I whisper after a while. “I need to call a family meeting, and I want you and Cade to be there with me.”

  She pulls away slowly and smiles at me. “Really?”

  “Of course,” I assure her. “You guys are family too, you know.”

  Her smile brightens up her entire face, and she leans in for another hug, which I let her have. This is putting me in a better mood already, and it’s helping my nerves at facing my parents. She volunteers to be the one to get Cade while I go wake my family, and I can already tell that both tasks need as much time as each other. My parents are the first to get up, and we bring my brothers together.

  When we all get to my room, I’m surprised that Sadie and Cade are already there. I guess they need less time than I gave them credit for to say good morning to each other. Or maybe they were in too much of a hurry to hear what’s been going on with me.

  While I stand by the door, they all disperse across the room, sitting on the bed, chair, or floor, or leaning against the wall. Suddenly, whatever courage I gathered up after Sadie’s warm greeting disappears when I’m faced with my father’s stoic face, and the rest of my family’s anticipation. It’s so awkward and heavy with nervous energy.

  “Uh,” I pathetically start. “I’m sorry you had to get out of bed so early… but I didn’t know how else to have this conversation without anyone hearing.”

  “It’s alright, sweetie,” Mom reassures me with a smile.

  It puts me at ease, a little, and I return it hesitantly. I’m still not sure where she and I stand, but at least I know I can count on her now. I certainly feel like I can trust her more, and she’s more open than she used to be.

  “Um, I don’t really know where to start,” I admit.

  “How about from the beginning?” Daniel suggests. “Why did you come home crying… what was it? Three weeks ago?”

  “Two,” Mason corrects him.

  “Feels like forever,” Nate comments. “But it was so unlike you, Mickey.”

  “Yeah, we’ve never seen you like this before,” Connor seconds. “What happened?”

  Their concern is enough for me to lose the awkwardness. What was I so nervous about? This is my family we’re talking about. They’re not perfect, but they love me, and I love them just as much. They have a right to be worried and want to know what’s going on with me.

  So I tell them everything, starting from the moment I left the house after the fight with Mom and Dad. Everything just comes spilling out until, soon enough, my tears follow again, and I can’t stop any of it.

  But I don’t want to. I need this. I need to share everything with them so they can help me. There’s something cathartic about voicing one’s pain and thoughts and frustration out loud and crying it out in the presence of the ones you love. They listen and take in everything I say as I say it. It almost feels like they’re absorbing the depression and sadness away the more I talk. I should have done this a long time ago.

  They’re a bit surprised when I tell them how Logan is my true mate. From my rant yesterday, they thought I just had feelings for him, but they didn’t suspect we might be true mates. Like I said, it’s a thing of fairytales. I wouldn’t be surprised if Logan himself actually turns out not to have deduced that, either.

  “Why didn’t you shift and show him?” Cade asks curiously.

  The rest nod along with him, and I suppose it’s been on all of their minds. I didn’t think much about it when I was blurting out my secret, but I’ve had a lot of time to reconsider every second of that horrible day, and I believe that on a subconscious level, I knew what I was doing.

  “It would have overwhelmed him,” I reason. “He might have believed me, but you saw how he reacted when he found out the girl secret. I don’t know what he would have done if he knew the rest.”

  Maybe the pull would have been enough to draw him to me. I’ve been experiencing its effects for a while now, and I know how it messes with one’s head. He would have felt compelled to be near me, I’m sure of it. But I don’t know how well he would have taken it, or if he even would have been okay with it.

  If I’m being honest though, more than anything else, I was probably trying to protect myself from another rejection.

  God this really sucks, I lament, not for the first time since I found out.

  Mom suddenly stands up and hugs me with a gentle look on her face. “You’re really brave, you know that?” she tells me.

  The unfamiliarity of the gesture makes me stiffen at first, but I relax at the tone of her voice and even hug her back. She sighs when I do, and I can tell she’s smiling.

  “How am I brave?” I quietly object. “I’ve been hiding here all week. I’ve cried more in the last two weeks than I have in all my life. I’m not brave, I’m weak.”

  “Crying is not a weakness, honey,” she declares with so much determination that I can’t argue back. “Holding everything in and letting it consume you is not what makes you stronger, either. It’s facing what’s bringing you pain with your head held high, and I’m so proud of you for letting us in now.”

  As much as I love how caring she is, I’m still very confused by something. “Why are you so calm about all this? I told everyone my secret,” I remind them, anticipating their reproaches out of habit, but somehow knowing they wouldn’t this time.

  Mom and Dad exchange looks and a silent agreement passes between them. Dad then moves away from the wall he was leaning against and comes closer to me and Mom, who keeps her arms around me like a protection.

  “We owe you an apology, Dylan,” he begins by saying. The use of my name is gentle rather than angry, as he usually employs it. This tiny sign of acceptance is enough to bring more tears to my eyes. “Mostly me, though, because I’ve been the hardest on you.”

  “Stop,” Mom interrupts him, apparently picking up an argument they have already started before. “We agreed, Steven. We’re both to blame, not just you.”

  He puts his
hand affectionately on her cheek and smiles indulgently. “I know,” he tells her. “I just need to speak for myself.” She sighs and agrees with a nod.

  Dad focuses his attention back on me. “We knew you would be a girl when you were born,” he says. “I was still hoping the doctor would be wrong, because I knew the kind of life you would have wouldn’t be as happy as I want it to be. Every werewolf has werewolf children, and I knew that if you were born a girl, you would be one, too, and we’d have to hide you. When you came, and I held you for the first time, I swore to myself I would do my best to create a balance between a safe life for you and a happy one. Along the way, that line blurred, and I went to extreme measures. You’re my daughter, and I love you, but the more I tried to protect you, the more I forgot that, and I treated you unfairly.”

  “We did,” Mom reminds him, still adamant to share the blame. “We thought we were doing what was best for you. It’s always been a possibility that you will someday find your true mate, and we were preparing ourselves to one day handing your protection over to whoever it turns out to be. But we forgot that your individuality, your right to be whoever you want to be, is probably more important than keeping you physically out of harm’s way.”

  “When I saw how lifeless you became after we told you to forget college and accept that this is your life, I realized how wrong I was,” Dad goes on. “I felt like I killed your spirit. I regretted everything I ever did that oppressed you in any way.”

  I can’t find words to express what I’m feeling right now. This is exactly what I was always hoping to hear from him, from both of them, and I can’t believe they’re finally saying it. It’s like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, the one that was crippling me for years, way before the pack even showed up.

  I’m nowhere near being over Logan, but for the first time, I’m not worried about my feelings for him. I am finally in a great place with my parents, and that alone is so empowering that I don’t give a damn about a boy right now. This is much bigger than a two-week infatuation and heartbreak.