olves. “But—”
“Gordo. Please. Trust me.”
She’d never said that to me before.
I did as she asked.
We went around the house to the driveway. I saw her car parked behind all the others. She led me to it and opened the passenger door, motioning for me to get in. I hesitated, glancing back over my shoulder. Mark was there, standing next to the house, watching us. He took a step toward me, but my mother pushed me into the car.
She was around the front and inside before I could turn myself over in the seat.
There were two suitcases in the back seat.
I said, “What’s happening?”
She said, “It’s time.”
Dirt flew up as she reversed in the driveway, nearly hitting another car.
I said, “Why are you—”
She put the car in drive and we flew down the lane. I looked in the side mirror at the houses behind us. Mark was gone.
ON MY twelfth birthday, there was a party.
Many people came.
Most were wolves.
Some were not.
Tanner and Chris and Rico got dropped off by their parents. It was the first time they’d been to the houses at the end of the lane, and their eyes were wide.
“Dios mío,” Rico breathed. “You didn’t say you were rich, papi.”
“This isn’t my house,” I reminded him. “You’ve been to my house.”
“It’s pretty much the same thing,” Rico said.
“Oh man,” Chris said, looking down at the badly wrapped gift in his hand. “I got you a gift at the dollar store.”
“I didn’t even get you a gift,” Tanner said, staring at the streamers and balloons and the tables filled with food.
“You can go in on mine,” Chris told him. “It was only a dollar.”
“How many bathrooms does that house have?” Rico demanded. “Three? Four?”
“Six,” I muttered.
“Whoa,” Chris and Tanner and Rico whispered.
“It’s not my house!”
“We only have one,” Rico said. “And everyone has to share.”
I loved them, but they were a pain in my ass. “I only have one at my house—”
“You don’t even have to wait to shit,” Tanner said.