Wolfsong (Green Creek 1)

Carter and Kelly tensed on either side of me, coiling like spring-loaded traps.

“That’s so sweet,” Jessie said. She smiled at the three of us.

“Whatever,” Carter mumbled.

“Don’t forget to tell Joe,” Kelly said.

I FORGOT to tell Joe.

I didn’t know why. Maybe it was work. And school. And the fact that I was going on my first date with a pretty girl. Maybe it was because I was distracted by the joyous ribbing the guys gave me at the shop when they found out (“Make sure you wrap it up, papi,” Rico said. “Chris will come after you with a shotgun if you don’t.” Chris had looked horrified and then threatened me with bodily harm if I even thought about sex in any way, shape, or form. Tanner and Gordo just laughed and laughed. Gordo seemed especially pleased by all of this).

(Chris came in on Saturday with a box of condoms and told me never to speak of it again. I threw them in the dumpster behind the shop so Mom wouldn’t find them at home. I was mortified.)

But I forgot to tell him.

Jessie smiled at me when I knocked on the apartment door. Chris did his best to scowl at me, but I knew him too well. He rolled his eyes and ruffled my hair and told us to be good.

And we were.

She told me stories over lasagna that was too dry, like how when she was seven, she was riding a horse that got spooked by a snake. It took off with her on its back and didn’t stop for almost an hour. She didn’t ride horses anymore, but she thought snakes were okay.

She took a drink of water that was in a wineglass, like we were adults. Like it was wine and we were adults and doing adult things. I thought her foot touched mine.

She said, “We knew she was going. We’d known it for a long time. But when she took her last breath, it was still such a surprise that I thought I would break. It got easier, though. Much quicker than I thought it would.”

I opened my mouth to give her a tragedy for a tragedy, to tell her about Dad walking out on us one random day, but I couldn’t find the words. Not because they weren’t there, but because I couldn’t find a reason to give them to her. She was open and kind and I didn’t know what to do with that.

We got ice cream as the sun set.

We walked around the park, the paths lit up with white lights.

She reached out and held my hand and I stuttered over my words and tripped over my feet.

It was perfect. It was so perfect.

And then she said, “How’s Joe doing?”

And I said, “Oh shit.”

I took her back home. I apologized because I had cut our first date short. She was puzzled but nice about it. She said I could make it up to her next time and my face felt hot. She laughed again and before I knew it was happening, she leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed me softly. It was sweet and kind and I hoped Joe was okay.

“See you tomorrow?” she asked when she pulled away.

“Yeah,” I somehow managed to say.

She smiled at me and went inside.

I touched my lips because they tingled and then I remembered myself.

Home was two miles away. I didn’t have a cell phone. We couldn’t afford one.

I ran the whole way home.

The lights were on in the house at the end of the lane.

The door opened even before I got to the porch.

Thomas stood in the doorway. Carter was at his side. Both looked like they were ready to attack. Thomas took a step onto the porch. His nostrils flared, and for a moment, I thought his eyes flashed impossibly, but I told myself it had to be the light. Nothing more.