by Kat Zaccard
I opened my eyes and saw Sequoya already heading toward the scent. Her long dark brown hair swayed back and forth as she reached the edge of the path to the left. I followed her and stepped off the trail and into the woods. We only had to go a few steps before we saw it: a dead groundhog. Sequoya made a soft mew of sympathy, and I smiled as her kind heart, knowing that in two years she’d be a predator in these same woods. I grabbed her shoulders and prevented her from touching it.
“We should probably leave it alone,” I said.
“But it didn’t die by natural causes,” she replied, tying her hair back in a knot with a band she had around her wrist. She leaned in to examine the corpse but refrained from touching it.
I took another look and realized she was certainly correct. The groundhog looked broken, but there was far too much blood for the injury to be caused by a fall. We agreed to continue on to her parents’ house. Her mom, Melinda, was a Sliver and would know what to do. We marked the edge of the trail with a rock, though Sequoya told me it was unnecessary since any Sliver worth her salt would be able to smell the dead animal. I liked that Sequoya treated me like everyone else, even if that meant poking fun at my ignorance.
We arrived at Dryden and I followed Sequoya to her house. She lived in a darling two-story cottage house on a quiet street a few blocks off the square. Her yard was filled with five fruiting trees and a bright red burning bush. Inside was disappointingly normal. There was little to differentiate the home from a human residence, save maybe the magazines on the coffee table: Glamour Growl, Moonlight, and Hairy Times.
Sequoya’s mother, Melinda, was home. We told her about the animal off the path. She seemed interested, but not overly concerned. She left us to fix ourselves lunch while she investigated, and she returned home just before we were about to head back to the orchards. Melinda assured us there was nothing to worry about, and offered to walk us back to school.
“Mom!” protested Sequoya petulantly, somehow turning one word into an entire phrase.
Melinda smiled at her teenage daughter. “Honey, I need to go that way anyway. Come on, I’ll stay three steps ahead.”
I smiled politely at Melinda while Sequoya grumbled. I tried not to fuel her annoyance. I remembered feeling the same way about my parents coming to the dance. Now, I kind of missed taking a walk with my mom. Sequoya’s mood improved and we had a pleasant walk back, though I noticed Melinda seemed to survey the area the entire time, the way Jack and Kulani had taught me to run patrols and keep an eye out for threats. I supposed being a Sliver was like the FBI: you’re always on duty.
◆◆◆
Friday night was the night of the Fall Fling. Someone knocked on my door. I peeked through the peephole, then opened the door and gasped. Shea looked amazing! Her beautiful, deep blue dress swirled around her knees as she gave me a twirl for the full effect. She had on just a touch of makeup that brought out her blue eyes.
“I just need a little help with my hair,” she whined.
“Come on in! I have just the thing.” And I presented Shea with my gift that was still wrapped in the tissue from the antique shop.
Shea smirked as she took the parcel. “What’s this?” She unwrapped the paper, then gasped at the sapphire hair comb, nearly dropping it.
“Careful!” I laughed at her stunned expression. “It’s perfect, right?” I was thrilled I had left Shea speechless; definitely an accomplishment.
“Alice, I can’t accept this. It’s way too much.”
“The lady doth protest too much,” I quipped in a bad English accent.
“Umm, I’m maybe offended by the My Fair Lady reference?” Shea teased with a grin.
“Yeah,” I joked back with as much attitude as I could summon, ala Jillian, “I figured I’d better practice being superior!” I flipped my hair, crossed my arms, and glared down my nose. We both laughed.
“Seriously, though, Alice, this is way too expensive.”
“Shea, stop it. You are my best friend in the whole world. I saw this; it was made for you. I bought it, end of discussion.” Then I turned her around and pinned up her hair in a sloppy French twist, leaving tendrils of strawberry blonde curls. The comb held her curls perfectly in place.
“Absolutely gorgeous!” I snapped a picture with my smart phone. (So smart, it takes pictures but not calls in this mountainous area!) Then I dashed into my bedroom to throw on my bright yellow dress. I was happy with the glass earrings before, but now that I saw the comb in Shea’s hair, I was even more pleased that I had splurged on a friend instead of myself.
We made our way downstairs, and the cacophony of teenage girls’ voices wafted up the stairs. As we rounded the corner, we saw several girls stop and stare at us. I guess we looked good by the smiles of some and the glares of Jillian’s crew. Den Mother Grissle was finishing what I’m sure was a moving speech on etiquette, decorum, and maintaining three feet of space from the nearest boy. In a chatter of giggles and a swirl of skirts, the doors opened and we filed out into the night toward Howl High’s ballroom in the main mansion. The guys were heading our way from their dormitory, and little by little, couples found each other and entered the main building. Shea and I were already walking into the ballroom before we saw Adam and Logan hanging out near the entrance. They smiled at us, though Adam’s eyes did not leave Shea for the rest of the night.
Logan approached, looking very handsome in designer clothes. He wore a pumpkin colored shirt that offset my sunflower yellow dress nicely. His green eyes flashed as he drank me in. “You look incredible.” He smiled wolfishly.
I blushed. “Thanks. You, too.”
“Do you want something to drink?” he asked politely as he scanned the crowd.
“Umm … nah, not right now. Want to walk around a bit?”
He offered his arm, and we circled the crowd, taking in the decorations and fancy dress. The music that had been playing softly in the background was cut short as a tall teacher took the stage. After reminding everyone to be on their best behavior, he introduced the band.
Three guys and two girls took the stage, dressed in throwback 90s grunge, looking fierce. The music started up, fast and rocking. Soon, the dance floor was filling up, and Logan pulled me out onto the floor.
“I can’t really dance!” I laughed, nervously, but Logan didn’t listen and just dragged me onto the dance floor anyway.
“Nonsense. Everyone can dance.”
I swallowed my nerves and started to move with the music. Logan laughed, grabbed my arms, and spun me around. “Get into it, Alice! Let loose!” He howled a little, and others nearby gave a reply howl. We grinned at each other, and I started to let go. Soon we were spinning and laughing. I felt more like I was flailing than dancing, but it felt so good that I stopped caring if I was any good at dancing and just danced. After a few fast songs, I needed a break, so we headed to the refreshments table.
Logan got us punch while I loaded up a plate of nuts, dried fruits, and tiny appetizers that I assumed were all dairy-free. It was exciting to have a buffet of food I knew I could eat. And it was awesome that everyone here was a wolf with a wolf-sized appetite. Nobody watched what they ate; they just ate, heartily.
“That’s one of the best parts of Howl High,” I said, thinking out loud.
“What’s that?” asked Logan, scarfing down another stuffed mushroom.
“No eating disorders.” He looked confused, and I tried to explain how so many girls at my old high school were so concerned with their weight that they didn’t eat or became bulimic.
“That’s gross and stupid.” Logan looked disgusted. “Americans are so weird.”
“Hey, it’s a disease, and it’s not just Americans.” I felt defensive. Eating disorders were terribly sad.
“Well, it’s a pretty weird phenomenon.” He shrugged.
“Yeah, I agree. Sorry, I don’t know why I brought it up. It’s just different to see girls eating a lot and not caring or judging each other for it.” Logan gave me a strange loo
k. “It’s a good thing,” I finished lamely. Logan finished his drink and excused himself to use the bathroom.
I sat alone at our table, feeling dejected. We had been having a nice time when we were dancing. Why had all of our conversations gotten so weird? I wondered. Maybe I was just nervous, babbling about random stuff. That’s been known to happen. I smirked and shook my head, thinking how much I sounded like my mom who always babbled when she was nervous. I had sworn to myself I never would!
“Hey! It’s Alice, right?” I looked up and saw two chocolate eyes peering out from underneath shaggy black bangs.
“Oh, hi! I remember you from the coffee shop.” Thank you, Captain Obvious, I thought with a mental head slap.
“Yup, it’s Diego.” He smiled at me. I liked how I got his full attention. Logan had scanned the crowd more than he’d looked into my eyes. Diego’s gaze was like a solid fact. His eyes only left mine long enough to admire my dress. “If you don’t mind my saying: you look great.”
“Thanks, I—”
“Well, I mind.” We both turned to see Logan had returned, looking stormy.
I laughed to cover my embarrassment at Logan’s behavior. “Uh, Diego, this is Logan. Logan, Diego.”
“Yeah, we know each other. ’Sup, Logan?” Diego was doing his best to be casual, but there was obvious tension there. I mean, it was radiating off Logan like heat.
“Whatever. Just leave my girl alone,” he growled at Diego.
Now I was miffed, but determined not to let it ruin my night. “Okay, easy there buddy,” I said, trying to make light of the tension, “I’m nobody’s property. We were just saying hello.” Why was I explaining myself to him? I didn’t owe Logan an explanation for talking to another guy!
“Why are you here, Diego?” Logan crossed his arms and glared, apparently not even having heard me.
“Dude, I’m in the band.” He gestured casually back at the stage. A cute girl with green streaks in her otherwise blonde hair was tuning her bass while their other bandmate was twirling a drumstick. Diego held Logan’s steely gaze like a dare.
“That’s cool,” I said, wanting to make it clear that I was still in the room and not taking a back seat while they sized each other up. “You guys are great.” Diego broke his standoff with Logan and smiled sheepishly at me.
Logan scoffed at my remark. Okay, so he could hear me. “Whatever. Come on, Alice, let’s go say hi to my friends.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward him. I gave an embarrassed wave goodbye to Diego and followed Logan. I was annoyed by his behavior, but I was also glad he suggested introducing me to his friends. He had yet to mention his other friends to me.
I waved at Shea and Adam who were making their way to the buffet, but Logan didn’t stop for them, obviously annoyed by our encounter with Diego. I was curious, but just wanted to get our night back on track so I didn’t ask about it. He made a beeline for a group of couples near the stage. At our approach, one of the couples peeled away from the group and headed to the dance floor.
“Jillian is in your group of friends?” I asked, aiming for casual but missing the mark.
Logan smirked at me. “Who’s jealous now?” he quipped. I felt my face heat up. Really? I thought. Are our really making fun of me, when you just told me two weeks ago she was your ex? I didn’t have time to explore the thought further as Logan was introducing me to his friends. They were all tall, well-dressed, and had an air of money. I felt like I was hanging out with the pompom squad and football team from my old high school. The guys talked and punched each other in the arm, the girls snickered together, and I stood there feeling all alone in a crowd of people.
The band started up again, this time leading with a slow song. Logan winked at one of the guys and steered me back to the dance floor. He held me close as we swayed to the music. I leaned against his chest and thought I could forget my awkward feelings and just enjoy the moment. I looked up at Logan to say as much, but his eyes weren’t on me. He was scowling again, and I looked over to see Jillian pressed up close to her date.
“Something wrong?” I asked gently. He looked down at me as if he’d just noticed I was there.
“No.” He glanced at the band. “But don’t talk to Diego anymore. He’s a jerk.”
I pulled back from him slightly. “Logan, that’s crazy. You can’t tell me who to talk to.”
He looked annoyed. “You don’t want me talking to Jillian.”
“I don’t care if you talk to her, just don’t date her!” I didn’t like the shrill note in my voice.
He rolled his eyes at me. “I know you’re new to this werewolf stuff, but we wolves are a little territorial, you know?”
“As if that explains anything? I’m no one’s property,” I reminded him.
“Jeez, get over it! That’s not my point at all. If you want to earn the respect of the upper class, though, like all of my friends over there, you might want to stop hanging out with losers like Diego and Shea.”
“Whoa, wait a second.” Now I was mad, and I pushed him away from me. Other people on the dance floor looked over at us as we stopped dancing to argue. “What’s that supposed to mean? What does Shea have to do with any of this?”
“Come on, Alice,” he said, sounding as if he was talking to a particularly dense person. “Shea is a lovely person, but she’s also a nobody with no family, no money, and nothing to offer the crown. Diego … well, Diego is just annoying. Neither of them is good for your reputation.” I couldn’t believe his dismissive tone of voice! I had a feeling I was finally seeing the real Logan.
“You know what, Logan?” I said. “You’re bad for my reputation.” And I left. I didn’t want to storm off, but there was no way I would let anyone see me cry. I held my head high and walked as quickly as I could, while hopefully maintaining some dignity.
I left the ballroom, rounded the corner, then ran down the empty hall to the nearest exit. I dashed across the grounds and pounded up the steps as fast as my kitten heels would let me. I rushed past a startled Ms. Grissle and raced to the elevator. By the time I had unlocked my door, the tears were already streaming down my face. The night hadn’t ended how I’d hoped. I flopped onto my bed and bawled out all of my disappointment. At some point, I cried myself to sleep.
Chapter 10
The next day, I woke up still in my rumpled yellow dress, with bobby pins poking my head uncomfortably. I groaned and rolled over, throwing my arm over my eyes as the traitorous sun laughed in my face. I realized someone was knocking at my door; the faint pounding from the other room was persistent. I knew who it was and that she wouldn’t be ignored.
With another groan of protest, I hauled myself off of my bed, stepped down the dais, and tromped across the room. Working up my full feeling of grumptitude, I stomped my bare feet as loudly as I could across the plush carpets of the living room. I felt the sharp sting of my efforts and heard a more satisfying slap of my feet on tile as I neared the entrance and my insistent guest.
I unlocked the door and the knocking ceased. “Alice?” I heard Shea’s soft inquiry.
The door creaked as I opened it slowly, for full dramatic effect. “I want to, but can’t tell you to ‘go away,’” I said miserably, looking at my toes.
“Yikes!” she squealed. “That bad?”
I glanced at my entryway mirror and saw what she meant. My cheeks were blotchy and mascara-streaked, my eyes puffy and red. I sniffed for good measure, completing the pathetic creature I saw staring glumly back at me.
I sighed, then turned and walked away, leaving the door open for Shea to enter. I slumped onto the couch and grabbed a few tissues from the end table, making a half-hearted attempt to wipe off my smeared makeup.
“Hi,” I finally said after a few more deep sighs.
“Hi,” she said sweetly, Her dulcet tone pulled my gaze out of my lap and up to her own. She smiled kindly, and I was so glad she was there. Of course my eyes prickled, and I blinked a few times, leaking a tear or two. “What happened?”
she asked, and I told her. It poured out of me, along with a fresh new fount of tears. I seemed to be a well with an endless supply. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cried this hard, if ever. Not when I left Nick, not when I found out I had four legs and got furry. No, this was a whole new level of pity and despair, and that scared me the most.
“He was such a snob! The worst part, Shea, is that I don’t even really like him that much anymore and yet I still feel this bad! Why should he have that power?”
Shea hadn’t said much of anything throughout my rant; she let me cry and whine and rage, and only gently encouraged more release. But at this, I could see her gather herself, preparing to offer her side of things. I hadn’t yet told her what Logan had said about her, just that he’d suggested I fit in with the right pack of wolves. She took a deep breath.
“You know, this is only my perspective, so take it with a grain of salt. I try not to let the way I’ve been treated here influence my advice to you, but it’s hard to ignore that this place is full of snobs. It sounds to me like you are more embarrassed that the snobby kids didn’t like you, than broken up about breaking up with Logan.” At this, the room got dangerously quiet.
Her words incensed me. That was so unfair! “How could you say that?” I raged, “Why should I care what any of them think?” I drew a breath to go on, but Shea cut me off, louder this time.
“Because you will be queen one day! You have to fit in to be the top bitch, right? And they all treat you like crap because they follow Jillian. They’re afraid of this power struggle. They’re sheep, not wolves! They will follow whoever is alpha, and right now, that isn’t you.”