CHAPTER 5

  James manifested supernatural powers at the best time. Every day after school we spent a solid hour with the wolf he named Apollo. We would’ve spent more time in the woods, but James’ father waited for any excuse to make him leave the prep school to go play football at the county high school again. He couldn’t risk falling behind. For the same reason, he constantly refused to let me come over and do homework at his house.

  “If you’re always helping me, Dad will think I can’t cut it on my own.”

  I understood, but every afternoon I returned home to silence. Even my thoughts seemed to echo in the empty house, and those wandering thoughts weren’t pleasant company. Luckily, I owned a bike.

  After my first day of school, I easily convinced my father I needed my own transportation. After dinner, we took a trip to Live Oak, and he bought me a cheap mountain bike.

  “No point spending too much. You’ll be driving soon.” I tried to hide my smile at those words. After we finished moving in, Dad contracted a local company to build a two-car garage on the property. Now, he’d all but confirmed my suspicion he planned to get me my own vehicle once I turned sixteen. February sixteenth suddenly seemed a lifetime away.

  I didn’t want to spoil it, so I didn’t press him. Dad enjoyed surprising Mom and me on our birthdays, and now he only had the chance to do it once a year. I wouldn’t take that from him. Instead, I made good use of the gift I’d already received.

  Rain or shine, I rode the bike for hours every evening. Madison was always home, but now I lived on the south side of the small town and didn’t know these streets at all. It didn’t take long to memorize every crossroad and where each turn led to a dead end. I tried to get myself lost, but that only worked for the first couple days. Southern Madison didn’t have many streets to get lost in.

  Thursday, I woke to thunder and a hot breeze which continued throughout the day. James and I only spent half an hour with Apollo after school before rain finally joined the storm.

  “It’s weird communicating without words,” he said, blinking at the wind-blown drops.

  I laughed. “What do you mean? Most of your communication is non-verbal.”

  He grunted. “You know what I mean. It’s like emotions. But what’s the emotion for ‘sit’, ‘shake’, or ‘roll over’? And why can’t I talk to my dogs? Maybe Apollo’s special, not me.”

  I didn’t have an answer for him, and it bothered me. My itching brain completely failed me. For the first time ever, the sensation didn’t go away. Every day, while James practiced giving Apollo silent commands, trying to teach him tricks like the wolf was one of his hounds, I sat on a mossy log fruitlessly concentrating on the itch.

  Nothing.

  Nothing.

  Nothing.

  Whether because of the downpour, frustration with his lack of success, or my lack of promised answers—more likely all three—James decided to leave early. I tried to cheer him up. “Maybe you need to grow your beard out, so he thinks you’re a wolf too.”

  The stoic boy responded with, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” before getting on his bike and riding south.

  After a quick drink and snack at home, I rode north up Martin Luther King Jr. Drive. I intended to keep going, swing east, then stop by Wynn’s house to check on her, but when I reached Base Street, the weather took a turn for the worse.

  Powerful winds pushed back the hood on my rain jacket, allowing thick drops to soak my shirt, and making it difficult to see. The occasional buffet shook my bike, threatening to knock me over. I grudgingly admitted I needed to cut my ride short today.

  While I rode east on Base, I considered the possibility of finding a new shortcut through the center of Madison, and turned down Meeting. Another gust pushed my hood back again. Eyes squinting through water pouring down my face, I gritted my teeth and rode on.

  A couple blocks later, a whistle pierced the storm. Caught off guard, I slowed. Glancing toward the sound, blurred vision revealed the form of a girl sitting in the middle of a grassy yard.

  In this weather? Was she insane? I stopped at the corner of the house. She waved at me and leaped to her feet, as if recognizing me. Did I know anyone so crazy?

  Me. The one riding around in this weather. Feeling sheepish, I wiped at my eyes and climbed off my bike as the girl practically skipped across the lawn to greet me. I blinked away the incessant rain to get a better look.

  She stopped only a foot away, light blue t-shirt plastered against her slim body, soaked through enough to show the obvious outline of a sports bra underneath. Extremely short running shorts showed off long pale legs, and she pulled a red braid over one shoulder, oblivious to the storm.

  Lucy. The gorgeous new girl James obsessed over. To be fair, half the school obsessed over her. It turned out Lucy sat next to me in calculus, but other than the one encounter in the hall my first day, she seemed content to ignore me, and I was content to let her.

  “Hey, Lucy,” I shouted to be heard over the oppressive weather.

  “Hi, Hot Stuff,” she yelled right back with a cheery tone, showing off those brilliant white teeth.

  Grateful for the rain as my cheeks heated up, I bit back a grimace. Hot Stuff. That’s what she called me the first time we met. I knew she intended it as a compliment, but coming from those tempting lips, it felt a cruel taunt. The deafening wind and rain filled my ears as I tried to think of anything to say. Lucy simply stared at me with a subtle smile until, blinking water droplets from long eyelashes, she disturbed the shallow space between us by taking a step forward.

  Our noses almost touched, and I smelled cinnamon perfume. She must’ve been compelled by the wind and rain to close the distance in order to make sure she could hear me. That’s all. The heat in my chest disagreed.

  “You like rain?” I asked, desperate to say something.

  “You noticed?” She raised an eyebrow and bit her lip, teasing me.

  What a dumb question. I tried to turn it around on her. “Well, either that or you’re insane.”

  She giggled. Rain and wind vanished for a blink in the music of her laughter before returning with vengeful ferocity. Lucy wiped water from her face, then turned the hand around. Soft, warm fingers slowly trailed down my face, brushing rain from my eyes. My entire body froze at the unexpected, silky touch.

  “I suppose that makes two of us.” Her lips curled up on one side as she spoke.

  Swallowing hard, blinking away the fire left by her fingers, I let out a short laugh. “Well, I’m on my way home, actually. What’re you doing out here?”

  “Finishing a run. This is perfect cool-down weather!” She raised her hands into the air, grin spreading wide across her flawless face. When she shouted, cinnamon and spice became thick in the air, making my mouth water. I barely maintained focus enough to register it must be her breath, not perfume.

  As if to emphasize her point, a forceful gust peppered us with rain. I struggled to keep my bike upright. Lucy shrieked and lost her balance. The bike crashed to the ground as I let go to steady the girl. In spite of her soaked shirt, a blaze of heat shot up my arms when I gripped her waist.

  An impossibly long second later the wind calmed, and she regained her footing.

  I immediately let her go. “You alright?”

  Nodding and giggling again, she brushed at loose strands of hair stuck to her eyes. “That was fun.”

  I laughed with her as she helped me stand up my bike. Once again, we stood close, but with the cold, metal bike between us. She held onto one handlebar, her other palm flat on the seat.

  “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  Another flurry blew her, pressing the bike into me, making our noses bump. “Wow! I believe it’s getting worse!” Bright green eyes stared into mine, close enough to determine she didn’t wear contacts.

  “Yeah. I should probably walk the rest of the way home.”

  “Or…”—she leaned in only a half inch closer, but the scent of cinnamon became overpowering—“…you can come inside and wait it out.” Something in the way she emphasized the words, in the twist of her mouth, glitter in her eyes, and the closeness of her body, offered infinitely more than a safe harbor.

  Before my mind considered what that might be, I shook my head and took a half step back, pulling the bike with me. “I better get home.”

  Pouting dramatically, Lucy patted my cheek, voice raising an octave like she talked to a puppy. “Be careful, Hot Stuff. Would be a shame if anything happened to that face.” She winked, tousled my soaked hair, and stepped back.

  At a loss for words, I faked a smile and turned away.

  The girl was as odd as she was attractive. If possible. After crossing the street, I glanced back. She stood in the rain, wet shirt tight, braid fluttering in the wind, emerald eyes locked onto mine, lips smirking. A flash of heat bloomed in my chest as she stared.

  Why did I walk away from that smile? From that body? My muscles fought against me as I raised a hand and waved goodbye. Waving back, she turned and sauntered through the storm toward her home, hips swaying.

  I distracted myself by inspecting the house and realized I recognized it. Of course Lucy lived in that house. Knowing my exact location, I adjusted course and headed home, doing my best not to think about the girl.

  My brain didn’t cooperate. Her long, rain-slicked legs, braided red hair, piercing eyes, and swaying hips kept appearing in my mind. What was I even doing out here? Wynn. I went to check up on Wynn. Red, braided hair shifted to flowing black. Green eyes melted to blue. Perfect complexion became sprinkled with freckles. I hoped Wynn felt better soon.

  The storm subsided overnight, leaving Friday morning sunny and muggy. Sweat dripped from my hair by the time I got to school and locked up my bike. James showed up right behind me.

  “Hey, buddy, how about this beautiful morning?” he said with a smile.

  “You’re in a good mood.”

  He shrugged. “I did some research on wolves. I think I’ve been doing things all wrong.”

  “Ah, so you’ve finally decided to grow out your beard.”

  Laughing, he shook his head. “No, but I have some ideas.”

  We didn’t mention the subject again during school. After the first day with Apollo, we agreed to not talk about our unique abilities in public. There was too much risk of getting comfortable and saying something suspicious within hearing range of other people.

  Besides, I had plenty of other things to think about. Like the hospital internship. We were supposed to get our assignments today, and I hoped mine included being partnered with Wynn. “Think Tommy’s put up the internship schedule yet?”

  James shrugged.

  “Couldn’t hurt to check.”

  We stopped by Nurse Williams’ classroom and found a few other kids made it there before us, including Lucy. She left as we entered, wet hair draped over her shoulders. The image of her standing soaking wet in the rain filled my mind again. It took effort to push it out.

  “Morning, Lucy,” James said with a grin.

  Her responding smile matched the one she gave me the day before—sly and inviting. If James convinced her to ask him to the Winter Dance, he’d be a lucky boy. If I got up the courage to ask Wynn, and she said yes, I’d be ten times as lucky.

  “Good morning, Mr. Gibbs,” Lucy said, sticking her hand out. “Appears we’ll be spending time together on Wednesdays.”

  He shook her hand a little too enthusiastically and a little too long before composing himself and letting go. “We’re scheduled together?”

  “Yes, sir, and I’m anxious to get to know you better.” A hint of seduction tinted her tone and forced James to shift his weight. Or did those penetrating green eyes move him?

  At least she ignored me. Attractive as she was, I didn’t want her attention. She shifted her gaze to me. I strained to keep myself from swallowing the lump in my throat.

  Dropping her smile and raising her chin, she silently stared at me, examining my face. I waited, worried she’d say something about yesterday. If she mentioned our encounter, James would be jealous and suspicious of why I hadn’t. I wracked my brain for a way to respond dismissively.

  The moment stretched on awkwardly.

  James raised an eyebrow.

  Should I say something? As I opened my mouth to offer a casual greeting, she nodded, satisfied by whatever her search discovered. The girl motioned with a hand. James and I instinctively parted to let her through the door.

  “Wow,” he whispered, appreciating Lucy’s swaying gait once more.

  “Come on,” I mumbled, moving into the classroom, desperate to get the strange girl out of my head.

  A yellow paper with a grid had been taped to the whiteboard showing the five weekdays and a list of names under each. Eight students were assigned to each day, and each student was assigned two days of the week.

  Wynn’s full name, Tylwynn Ethelston, stuck out from all the others under Monday and Wednesday. It took me a little longer to find my own beneath Wednesday and Friday. On both of those days, above my name loomed Lucia Lanier. A tingling in my chest made my stomach boil. Why couldn’t I have both days with Wynn instead?

  “Monday and Wednesday,” James said.

  “Same as Wynn.”

  “Yeah, and you’re the lucky duck sharing shifts with Lucy.”

  “Want to trade?”

  “I wish,” he said, pointing to the top of the page.

  It detailed the times—three-thirty to five-thirty in the afternoon—along with some other notes about how to get our scrubs. In bold letters at the end of the paragraph it stated, “All change requests must be written by a parent or guardian and include a sufficient explanation for the need.”

  I couldn’t help laughing. “Guess Tommy doesn’t want to keep remaking the schedule until every boy is working with Lucy,” I said.

  James grunted.

  We parted ways until lunch. The weather remained clear and hot but the grass too damp to sit on. We stood under our usual tree while we ate. Right when I opened my mouth to suggest we visit Wynn after school, he spoke.

  “What do you think about Lucy?” He stared at the girl, surrounded as usual. Aside from Apollo, the redhead was pretty much the only thing he talked about. Not that James talked much.

  Still, what did I think about her? Being completely honest would mean admitting I tried not to. I couldn’t say that to James. He’d probably get the wrong idea. Or the right one. Either way, I didn’t want her to come between us. I shrugged. “She’s weird.”

  He grunted and nodded.

  “I don’t know, James. I’ve hardly spoken to her, but…” I trailed off, not sure how to finish. I knew my friend liked her, but I questioned why, other than the obvious. He shared more classes with her than I did. Maybe his obsession went beyond physical attraction. Yet my own interactions with the girl left me confused at best. What did he see in her? “You sure the crazy doesn’t outweigh the hot?”

  With a single laugh, he answered, “There isn’t enough crazy in the whole world to outweigh that much hot.”

  I laughed but shook my head, unconvinced. Seemed he focused on her beauty after all.

  After school, we rode our bikes back to the woods. Apollo was missing. James called for him, but the wolf didn’t appear. I sat on the mossy log and waited as James paced, clenched and unclenched his fists, and finally growled to the sky.

  Wolves weren’t common in Florida. If Apollo disappeared, would James ever get another chance to use this ability?

  His growl morphed into a laugh. “Look at us,” he said, amused. “We’re so lame. Sitting here in the woods waiting for a wolf. We should be taking dates to a movie tonight. Or going fishing at the lake.”

  I laughed. “You want to call Lucy?”

  Grunt.

  “Then call her.”

  He shot me a raised eyebrow. “I’m playing it cool.”

  “You’ve changed. I mean that in a good way. It’s like you’re breaking out of your shell. Talking to girls. Planning dates.” I shook my head. “I guess I’m just content to be a loner.”

  “I thought so too. Until you left. With just Tylwynn and me… We didn’t hang out much. I didn’t have friends to do stuff with. I planned to change that this year, but when you came back…” He shrugged.

  “Old habits?”

  He nodded. Then threw his hand out to the trees. “And there’s Apollo. School. Soon the internship. Who has time for dating?” He sighed.

  “Sorry. Guess you’re stuck with us loners.”

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  “Losers.”

  “Black sheep.”

  “Nerds.”

  “Freaks.”

  We laughed together.

  A minute of silence passed as I tried to think of something to say to cheer him up. Perspective might help. “There were over three thousand kids in my high school in Philly.”

  James’ eyes grew wide.

  “Seriously. I was just another face in the crowd. No one knew my name. I didn’t share classes with anyone. Or if I did, I didn’t notice. I didn’t make friends. Here, it’s like I’m some sort of celebrity. Everyone watches me. I preferred it the other way.”

  “At least they look at you. Everyone notices me, but they’re all afraid to look.”

  I frowned. I might be content with only two great friends, but if James wanted more, he only needed to give people a chance to get to know him. “You should throw a party.”

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “I’m serious. Throw a big birthday bash, invite the whole school.”

  He grunted. “Not a bad idea.” A big grin spread across his face. “A pool party. Use the new swimming pool. Get to see Lucy in a bikini. Mm hmmm.”

  “You’re incorrigible.”

  “Hey, Tylwynn in a bikini too.”

  I blushed and shrugged. “It’s your party.”

  Laughing, he slapped me on the back. “Thanks, Micah.”

  “For what?”

  “I’m glad you’re back.”

  I smiled. “Me too.”

  We made plans to search for Apollo the next morning, then split up. A few minutes after I got home the phone rang. Dad.

  “Micah, I’m glad you’re home. Tamara called me earlier to ask if you’d go over tomorrow to help Tylwynn catch up on the homework she missed this week.”

  I desperately wanted to say yes but already promised to help James find Apollo. Between the two tasks, there wasn’t any competition in my heart, but my brain argued. This went beyond normal circumstances. What bad timing! Grudgingly, I said, “I’ve been taking notes for her, actually, but James and I already have plans. Sunday would work better.”

  “I’ll let her know.” Dad and I decided to go out for dinner, but almost as soon as I hung up, the phone rang again.

  “He’s here,” James hissed.

  “What? Who?”

  “Apollo. He’s at my house.”

  “Well, that’s not good.”

  “Very helpful. Thank you. Crisis averted,” he growled.

  James lived about two miles south of town in a heavily forested area, family all ranchers and hunters. While the property contained plenty of places to hide a wolf, it would only be a matter of time before someone discovered Apollo.

  “I’ll come over. We can camp tonight and figure out what to do with him.” It may not be a solid plan, but better than nothing. I called Dad back to cancel dinner.

  “Aren’t you a little old for a sleepover?”

  “It’s not a sleepover, we’re camping. Tent. Woods. Fire. The whole thing.”

  He told me to be careful but sounded happy. Probably glad I wouldn’t spend the weekend moping around the house. I packed a few things in an old hiking pack, then rode my bike down the Florida Fifty-Three until I got to the turn-off for The Gibbs Compound, as we called it.

  Three Gibbs brothers all lived on the property with their families, the land owned by one of James’ uncles. My tall friend waited for me with his bike and a backpack at the gate.

  “I hope he’s staying put this time,” he said, leading the way onto a trail which broke off from the main road.

  After riding for a couple minutes through trees and around underbrush, we made it to a clearing. Apollo sat right in the center.

  “I can’t believe he followed you home.”

  James grunted.

  “Now what?”

  Shaking his head, he crouched in front of the beast. “You can’t stay here, Apollo. It isn’t safe.” Glancing back at me, he continued, “We need to get him back to town. He’s safer there.”

  “Temporarily.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  I sighed. “He’s a wolf, James. He can’t live in that patch of jungle forever. What’s your long-term plan?”

  “I don’t know. For now, we stay here. Once it’s night, we get him back to where we found him.”

  “Maybe you should tell your dad—”

  “No!” He stood up and paced. “They’d shoot him!”

  “Alright, but we’ve got to figure out something permanent. You can’t keep bringing him food. He’ll get lazy and fat if nothing else.”

  James didn’t argue, but he didn’t agree either.

  I spent time setting up the tent while he worked with Apollo, showing him where to run and hide on command in case anyone in James’ family came searching for us. The two worked remarkably well together.

  “Guess you’re right. You’ve got it figured out.”

  The big kid shrugged. “It’s definitely easier today.”

  After an hour or so, we relaxed, and James got the wolf to play some games. At first, I’d hide, and he’d send Apollo to find me. This never took long, the animal easily able to follow my scent. Then James hid, and “called” Apollo to him empathically. That worked even better. The wolf never failed to move straight to him.

  At about seven, he had the wolf hide behind a bush near our campsite, and the two of us made our way to the house for dinner. My old friend’s family welcomed me as one of their own, his mother’s homemade meal the first I’d eaten in weeks. By the time we left, the sun had set, but the light in the sky remained enough to make our way to the campsite.

  “Apollo,” James called. The wolf responded, immediately leaving his hiding place, and moving to the boy. “That’s weird.”

  “I guess he really is just a big dog, now.”

  “No, there’s something else,” James said in a near whisper.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know, but I can’t feel him.” As he held out his hand, Apollo raised a paw.

  “Well, he seems—”

  “Shh!”

  Frowning, I stood silent.

  The beast stood on hind legs, sat, leaped into the air, ran in a circle, then lay and rolled across the clearing. Every movement increased the tingling in my veins and the itch in the back of my brain.

  “James.”

  My friend turned, wide-eyed.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I think of something, and he does it.” His face twisted and his tone shifted. “I don’t like it. It feels wrong.”

  The tingling finally broke out in a shiver which shook my whole body. The itch didn’t go away. “Yeah, I don’t like it either, but it’s familiar.” We stared at each other for a moment longer before something occurred to me. “It would make getting him back to town a lot easier. Maybe we should go now?”

  He grunted.

  I followed James and Apollo through the brush. He didn’t want to risk heading out to the main road of the property—someone might see us leaving—but the Fifty-Three ran only a couple hundred yards to the east.

  A barbed-wire fence guarded the perimeter of the Gibbs’ compound. After lifting the bikes over it, James put a palm on one of the wooden posts then vaulted over the wires. The post shifted a little but held. Though not as athletic as James, I followed suit without trouble.

  We turned and looked at the wolf, sitting patiently behind the fence. James grunted, then the creature lay flat on the ground and crawled on its belly but ended up being too big to fit underneath.

  “Can he jump?”

  A second later, Apollo backed into the brush, then sprinted at the fence and cleared it with an impressive leap.

  Out on the highway, James and I rode our bikes while Apollo stuck to the trees off to the side. As we approached town, a large swath of flat farmland to the east of the highway slowed us down. We walked our bikes while Apollo moved low, stopping to lay in the tall grass every time a car drove by.

  I couldn’t help glancing over at the wolf after each passing. Ever since this change in the beast’s behavior, the itch in the back of my mind had intensified. Clawing. Digging. Drilling deep into my brain stem. Then I saw it.

  Above the eastern horizon a pale moon glowed. Full. Another puzzle piece slid into place and the itch sparked, fizzled, and formed into a single word.

  “Look,” I said, pointing at the moon.

  Nodding, James said, “I know. It’s so bright. This would be a lot easier in the dark.”

  “No, don’t you see? This all started when the full moon rose.”

  He shrugged.

  “Don’t you get it? You’re a… a werewolf.” I whispered the words, knowing how silly they sounded.

  He scoffed. “No, I’m not.”

  I didn’t argue. The idea seemed logically outrageous to me as well. Empathic communication with wolves was one thing, but shapeshifting dwelt in an entirely different category of impossible.

  The rest of the trip remained tense as we moved into town, but Apollo followed every unspoken command James gave him without hesitation, allowing us to return to our old hangout without incident.

  “What if I’m right?”

  He shook his head. “I’m not a werewolf, Micah.”

  “Maybe not the typical kind of werewolf, but I’m certain there’s a connection. You watch, as soon as the moon goes down, you’ll lose control over Apollo. I know it.”

  Staring at me, he grunted. “And you know it because of your magical brain power?”

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “Micah, you’re a bad liar.”

  My heart drained. How could I convince him?

  James laughed and said, “I’m saying I do believe you. I’d know if you made it up.” He sighed. “I don’t get it. How am I a werewolf?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, but it’s somewhere to start.”

  The rest of the night, Apollo obediently followed James’ every command as if compelled. Was there a limit? Would it attack someone? Kill them? I shivered at the thought. After a while, he decided to leave the wolf alone.

  “Go to sleep!” he commanded, and the animal appeared to obey, laying down and closing his eyes. After a while, it became clear he truly slept.

  James finally relaxed as well. We talked about all kinds of things, then. Lucy, of course, but also movies we’d seen or wanted to see, video games, funny moments from the year we spent apart. He had a lot more stories than I did, but after a couple hours, we both ran out of things to say. Twenty minutes of silence followed before I checked to see if he’d dozed off.

  Staring at the bright, full moon, he said. “I killed a wolf once.” The words hung in the sticky night air, punctuated by the calls of crickets and katydids. “My uncle found tracks behind his house. He said there were at least two. Dad and I hunted them. He found one and shot it, but we couldn’t find the other. The next day, I was sitting in a blind watching one of the traps he set, and it showed up. It wasn’t interested in the rabbit we left. It saw right through the blind and stared at me. Started stalking toward me. I panicked, so my first shot only wounded it. As it limped away, I shot it again. And again. I was terrified.”

  The boy returned to silence. I couldn’t imagine what must be going through his head, as Apollo lay next to him, peacefully sleeping. A couple of minutes later he finished the story.

  “My uncle made jerky from the one I shot. We ended up throwing it away. No one liked it, and I got sick for days after eating it. I keep wondering if I drew that wolf to me. Did I lead him to his death? Did it know I was there because it sensed me? Was that even my fear I felt?”

  I had no words for my friend. The silence remained unbroken except for the insects of the jungle around us. Eventually, their steady cadence lulled me to sleep.

  A brightening sky and damp clothes woke me. Stretching out sore muscles, I found James and Apollo missing, but they returned a couple minutes after I peed behind a tree. James held his phone, wolf on his heels.

  “The moon will go down in an hour. We’ll get to test out your theory.”

  I nodded and followed the pair around the woods for a while. A strange somberness curdled the mood, and I became increasingly anxious as time crawled on. What if I was wrong? It would be the first time, but then, the itch never took so long to resolve before.

  Would James believe me if his new power didn’t fade as I predicted? What would we do with a wolf permanently tied so completely to James’ will? Did it have a range?

  Apollo whined then took off into the woods at a full sprint. We chased after him but didn’t get far before finding the wolf relieving himself.

  “Wow,” James said, “he didn’t even pee because I didn’t tell him to.” He turned and stalked away, jaws and fists clenched tight, eyes hard.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Home.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t you get it, Micah? I don’t want this. I don’t like this power. It isn’t right. He’s better off without me.”

  “What if he follows you again?”

  That stopped him. Throwing up his hands, he raged. “I don’t know! What should I do?”

  “First of all, relax. We don’t need Apollo feeding off your frustration. Second, we should probably actually feed Apollo.”

  “I already gave him all the meat I brought.”

  I nodded. “What about you? Do you need some food?”

  Shaking his head, James said, “I can’t eat right now. I don’t feel good.”

  “Alright. I’m heading home to get some breakfast and a shower, then do some research. Once you’re satisfied Apollo will stay here, come over.”

  “What about your dad?”

  I put on my backpack. “He’s probably already gone back to his office, if he even came home last night. With me gone, he won’t want to spend the day alone at home.”

  My prediction proved correct. I parked my bike in the empty garage, and my father had left a note for me on the counter. I showered and put on dry clothes first, then poured a bowl of cereal and sat at the computer, browsing the web for anything I could find about werewolves.

  Research. A new sensation for me. I wanted to learn something I didn’t already know, and I only had a single word to go on.

  Did normal people feel like this learning new things? Unsure? Confused? I didn’t care for it. It reminded me of the notes I took in class. With Wynn sick, she’d be missing lessons and need to catch up. I planned to visit her once she felt better, give her the notes, and talk through the lessons.

  It started out romantic in my mind, but each day, stumbling as I tried to figure out what information to include and what to consider obvious or superfluous, I suspected my notes might be gibberish to anyone other than myself.

  That’s when I discovered I didn’t know how to learn things the traditional way. It became painfully obvious I wasn’t a genius, as everyone believed. With werewolves, I once again didn’t even know where to start.

  I found plenty of movies, TV shows, and novels romanticizing werewolves. None of them helped. I spent a good hour reading through character backstories and novel synopses before James showed up. After listening to me whine about how the internet had too much information to be practically useful, he said, “Search for historical accounts of werewolves,” then opened the fridge, appetite finally overcoming self-disgust.

  Historical werewolves? The concept sounded ridiculous, but at the same time, a fair point. Pop culture tended to spin fantasy creatures into something unrecognizable from their origins. I learned that lesson the first time I watched a movie with “Frankenstein” in it. Though I never read Mary Shelley’s classic, my brain remembered enough from the novel to know the bumbling monster I saw on screen was a complete mischaracterization of Victor Frankenstein’s creation.

  Once I adjusted my search, I discovered an entirely different type of werewolf. Historically, they were simply men turned into wolves, originating with King Lycaon, who Zeus turned into a wolf; according to the myth. Even though the namesake for lycanthrope originated with him, he didn’t shift into the half-human monstrous beast I associated with that term. He only transformed into a regular wolf.

  More intriguing, I found several real-life werewolf cases as recently as the nineteenth century. I read them out loud to James, and we both quickly recognized, in practically every case, the culprit only admitted to being a werewolf after torture or threats of torture. Aside from this fact, other common elements connected the historical accounts.

  Almost invariably, every werewolf trial started with a person, usually a child, being attacked by a wolf. While chasing after the animal, villagers found someone—often a vagabond or outcast—they accused of being a werewolf who committed the crime. Under duress of torture, the culprit confessed, and was often executed on the spot. Nearly a dozen similar versions popped up.

  Maybe he couldn’t turn into a wolf, but James could communicate with them and control them during a full moon. It didn’t take a genius to see the connection between what we knew and these historical accounts.

  What if Apollo got hungry one day and attacked a child playing at the park? What if someone chased him into the woods, and found James there? Today, people would think nothing of it, besides asking if he’d seen the beast. Two or three hundred years ago, James would likely be dead before the sun went down, accused of being a werewolf, admitting to the accusation in order to end the pain of torture.

  I scrunched my nose as he leaned over my shoulder, scrutinizing the account on screen, munching on cold pizza. The smell of mushrooms mixed with the scent of dirt staining his clothes. “Those men probably sacrificed their lives to protect a wolf they cared about.” His conclusion might as well be a confession he’d do the same.

  “Good thing we live in a time when people know werewolves aren’t real, then, eh?”

  He glared at me. “I’m going home.”

  I didn’t stop him. His shuffling gait and hunched shoulders showed emotional and physical exhaustion, not to mention his odor. He desperately needed a shower. “What about tomorrow?” I asked.

  He shrugged.

  “I need to stop by Wynn’s to help her catch up on homework. Want to meet back up with Apollo around noon?”

  “I could use the distraction. I’ll go with you.”

  I didn’t argue but was glad he didn’t look at me since my own exhaustion kept me from hiding my disappointment. It would’ve been nice to spend some time alone with Wynn.

  After he left, I briefly considered visiting her, but with what little sleep I got last night, walking or riding my bike that far didn’t seem a smart idea. Maybe setting up one of my gaming consoles—images of Mom laughing as I beat her in another race crashed through my mind. I decided to read a book instead.

  When Dad got home, we went out for dinner, then I went to bed early, wanting to be at my best the next morning. James showed up at eight and we rode over to Wynn’s house together.

  “Oh, the poor girl’s still sleeping. She’s feeling much better, but I don’t want to wake her. You understand.”

  “Of course, ma’am. I’ll just leave my notes and the homework for now. We’ll try to stop by later to help.”

  “You’re such good friends.”

  James didn’t miss my disappointment this time. “Sorry, buddy. At least she’ll be at school tomorrow.”

  “Yeah.” I forced a smile. “Can’t wait to see her face when she finds out we have all the same classes. I hope she doesn’t mind.”

  He laughed. “She’ll mind alright. She’ll be ecstatic.”

  “You think so?”

  “She was pretty upset when we didn’t have any classes together this semester. She’ll be glad to have another black sheep with her.”

  I laughed. “I hope you’re right.”

  Apollo waited near the spot James left him, appearing more excited to see us than ever before. “That full moon connected us somehow. It’s different. I understand him better, I mean.” He cringed as if that change felt uncomfortable, but he kept a brighter mood overall.

  Smiling, laughing, and playing, we quickly lost track of time. James found a fist-sized rock and threw it as hard and as far as he could. Apollo chased after it, bringing it back, though sometimes it took a few minutes.

  “I can see why your dad is upset you’re not playing football. You can seriously chuck that thing.”

  “I practiced a lot last year. Wasn’t the starting quarterback but got to play plenty.” I didn’t care for sports, but my itch told me that was unusual for a Freshman. “Watch this,” he said, pulling back and launching the stone with a forceful zip. It hit the dead branch of a tree at least fifty feet away, limb snapping off with a loud crack.

  “Impressive,” I said, feeling rather inadequate. I couldn’t imagine hitting the branch, let alone breaking it.

  Apollo fetched the rock but, on his return, dropped it, letting out a loud yelp, and twitching a paw.

  James bent over, holding his head. “Ow!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  James fell to his knees, hissing.

  I didn’t know what to do. Should I help him, or the wolf crying out in loud, whining yelps?

  After only a second my large friend jumped to his feet and sprinted toward Apollo. The animal hopped on three legs, the front right held high. Before we got to him, the beast rolled over onto his side and gnawed on the offending foot.

  “Apollo, hold still,” James practically grunted the words. Did he share the wolf’s pain?

  The beast snarled and snapped, both at his paw and James as he tried to get hold of the limb.

  “Relax. Hold still,” the giant kid said in a soft voice. After a few more calming words, Apollo stopped thrashing.

  “Micah, can you see what’s wrong while I hold him?”

  “Uh, sure,” I said, waver in my voice embarrassingly obvious. I couldn’t tell what Apollo felt, but if he snapped at James, what might he do to me?

  Fighting my nerves, I knelt and reached for his leg. A low growl escaped the beast’s mouth. A shiver shook my body. Wolves may not normally hurt people, and Apollo might as well be tame at this point, but he remained an incredibly dangerous animal if he chose to be.

  “He won’t hurt you.”

  I glared at James, unconvinced, but he held and petted the wolf’s head, shushing him as if consoling a child. Taking a deep breath, I reached for the injured paw again, disturbed by drops of blood on the rocks and dirt nearby. I took care, slowly moving his foot around until I found the problem.

  A large chunk of broken glass stuck out between the center pads of Apollo’s toes. Carefully, slowly, I picked at it until the shard came loose. The wolf’s blood ran down my fingers, making the glass slippery. I winced as the shard sliced into my thumb. Reflexively dropping it, I stuck the finger in my mouth.

  As I sucked on it, the sting of the cut dissolved in the uniquely sweet taste of the blood. James let go of Apollo—now busy licking his own wound—and stared at me, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

  “What?” I asked without taking my thumb out of my mouth.

  “What’re you doing?”

  “I cut my thumb on the glass.”

  He nodded slowly. “But what are you doing?”

  I blinked, not sure what he meant, then pulled the finger from my mouth and stared at my hand, no longer covered with the wolf’s blood. I licked my lips to get the last taste of sweetness from them. It took considerable effort to stop. Where did all the blood go?

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “You licked the blood off your hand like a popsicle.”

  “Really?”

  James nodded slowly, squinting at me with dark, curious eyes. “It was kind of creepy.”

  I examined my palm and fingers, wet with saliva. He must be right, but I had no memory of—The world spun. “Whoa,” I said, glad to be kneeling. Or was I? Trees above me bounced up and down as I floated between them.

  James’ concerned face stared down at me. “Can you hear me, Micah?”

  “Barely.” How did he sound so far away while leaning so close? Was I flying?

  He laughed nervously. “Buddy, you totally passed out.”

  Passed out? Did I wake yet? The way I swam through the air felt like a dream.

  The world reoriented. James carried me.

  “I think I should go home.”

  “No duh,” he said with a grimace, “but I can’t carry you that far.”

  Right then a surge of pain shot through my stomach. I groaned and buckled.

  “Are you alright?

  I nodded. “I can walk,” I lied.

  He sighed. “Sorry, but you’ll have to try. You can lean on me.”

  A few seconds later the trees disappeared, and he set me on my feet. On the grass. Next to the road. He already carried me quite a way. The pain in my stomach faded and I steadied myself.

  “Are you sure you can walk?”

  Nodding, I took a step toward my bike. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied again.

  The world continued to spin, but I managed to not fall over. James picked up my bike, and I gripped the handlebars, using it as a crutch, moving slowly down the road.

  We stopped at the small convenience store on the corner of Millinor and Duval. James bought a couple candy bars and a bottle of Coke.

  “Drink up,” he said, handing me the open bottle.

  I drained it gratefully. With meager sustenance in my belly, my suffering eased, but only for a few minutes. By the time we got to my house, it worsened. The stomach pain returned with a vengeance, and my head swam through a hurricane of dizziness.

  “Thanks for getting me home,” I said, waving to James.

  He grunted.

  Dad read in his recliner. “Hey, kiddo, how’d things go?”

  “I don’t feel good. I’m going to take a nap,” was all I managed to say before I made it to my bedroom and closed the door.

  The next thing I became aware of was a low buzzing. An insect incessantly called to me from across the plains. I ignored it, focused on the hunt, stalking a deer, following its scent. My prey wandered lazily through a field, unsuspecting. My mouth watered with desire for its flesh.

  Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

  The deer straightened, spooked by the sound, bounding into the trees. I gave chase but lost the element of surprise, and without the pack to harry my quarry, to cut it off or surround it, the hunt became futile.

  Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

  I gave up and sniffed the air. The curious noise came from beyond the trees. Beyond the stream which I and the deer drank deeply from that morning. Beyond the mountains rising into the skies on the far side of the wide, open grasses. The massive, glowing cicada called to me, but it was no insect. A full moon hung in the sky, summoning me. A call I must answer.

  My four feet moved in perfect rhythm across the earth. They carried me deftly through the forest, vaulting over running waters, dashing through tall grass. I flew up the mountain, paws barely touching the ground, then launched myself from its peak to the bright, round light shimmering in the dark sky.

  I opened my eyes. Reaching over, I switched off the alarm on my nightstand and sat up. Heavy rain beat on my window, and the soft whir of the ceiling fan blew muggy air across my sweat-soaked clothing. Unmuted, the rain fell louder than usual. Why did I leave my window open? Pushing aside the curtains, I closed it.

  The dim light of the sunset came from the wrong direction. Not sunset, sunrise. Morning. I didn’t remember climbing into bed. Dreams of being a wolf clung to the edges of my mind. I’d spent too much time with Apollo.

  As the visions faded, my own memories rushed in to replace them. James, Apollo, the blood, my finger.

  My stomach growled. Only the pain of emptiness and hunger remained. Had I slept the entire afternoon and night? Standing up, I discovered I felt good. No, amazing. Eighteen hours of sleep went a long way.

  Wynn. I never went back to her house to help with homework. I groaned, hoping she wasn’t mad at me. Well, a little mad meant she missed me. Right? Either way, Monday morning finally arrived, and I couldn’t wait to see her.