Alpha Bully (Wolf Ridge High 1)

“So you took the alpha-hole’s quiz for him, huh?”

I whirl to find Rayne, standing there. Her friendly face is such a balm to my raw emotions, I want to throw my arms around her and squeeze. I hold back though. I don’t want to scare my only friend off with my desperation for human contact.

“News travels that fast?”

“Yep. That’s Wolf Ridge for you. Takes about five minutes for the latest news to go around. Especially when it concerns our star quarterback.”

“Is football that big a deal? I don’t get it.”

She shrugs, falling into step with me. “Wolf Ridge takes state in almost every sport. We’re renowned. But Cole is special—he’s entertainment on the field. Kinda toys with the other team. Like a cat with a mouse. It’s legendary. So if he got benched for bad grades this week, everyone would’ve mourned. I know you had no choice, but you just became an unsung hero.”

“I just became the laughing stock of the school and a target for every bully.”

“Nah, just Cole.”

“So do you have to be good at sports to be popular?”

“Yep.” She sweeps her hands down her body with a giant rueful smile. “Guess you know why I won’t get crowned homecoming queen.”

I have the insane urge to steal the homecoming crown before it’s given out this weekend just to give it to Rayne. And that thought makes me smile.

She elbows me. “It’s not that funny.”

My smile grows bigger. “I’m not laughing at you, I swear. Just thinking how fun it would be to throw the contest.”

She grins back. She leads me to the far side of the school, where there’s a little patch of trees I hadn’t seen before. “This is where I like to hide during lunch.” She sinks down with her back against one of the trees.

I drop to join her. “This is way better than the places I’ve tried.” It’s true. She found the one tiny patch of real nature on campus where the air is somehow easier to breathe.

“So Cole thinks my mom stole his dad’s job,” I blurt, unable to keep my mind off it.

Rayne raises her brows. “You didn’t know that?”

I sigh. Okay, Wolf Ridge is that small and interconnected. “I thought everyone hated me because I’m Hispanic.”

She spits out her juice laughing. “That’s hilarious.”

“Well, it is pretty homogenous here. And I don’t fit the bill. You should see the way Cole’s dad stares out the window at us. I swear to God, I thought he or one of the other neighbors were going to call ICE on us, hoping we’d get picked up in the night just because our last name is Sanchez.”

Rayne laughs so hard tears leak from the corners of her eyes. “No.” She wipes at the moisture. “It’s not racism you’re combating here.”

The way she draws out racism makes me think there’s something else. Something besides my mom taking Cole’s job, but I can’t for the life of me figure out what that would be.

She tucks a wild tuft of white-blonde hair behind her ear, and I see the flash of a blue tattoo on the inside of her wrist. “What is that?” I ask, pointing to it.

She holds it out to show me a tiny paw print.

“Very sweet. Is it to remember a dog?”

“It’s a wolf print, actually.”

“Are wolves special to you?”

She quickly tucks it away and ducks her head. “No. Just for Wolf Ridge. It’s stupid.” She blushes furiously. “I wish I’d never gotten it, but it’s too late now.”

“I like it.” An idea takes hold, one that gets me excited for the first time in months. A way to memorialize Catrina. “I want to get one. Did you get it here in town?”

“Yep. At Wolf’s Paw Tattoo.”

“Oh my God. Is that why you got a wolf’s paw? Is it free if you become a walking advertisement for them?”

Rayne laughs. “No, but I guess that’s where I got the idea, yeah. But you have to be eighteen or have parental consent.”

“Well, it just so happens that my birthday is tomorrow.” I grin. “Want to come with me?”

She lights up. “Definitely. What are you going to get inked?”

I swallow back the sudden lump in my throat. I guess I’m still not okay talking about it. Instead I shrug and go for mystery. “You’ll see.”

Cole

“Seriously, I can’t believe you made the human take your quiz for you.” Wilde, our team captain, punches my shoulder in the locker room after showers. “That was so Gucci.”

“Shut up with the Gucci thing, dude,” Bo says. “You wouldn’t know Gucci from Fruit of the Loom, asshole.”

There’s a chorus of snorts from the underclassmen, evidence of their continuous suck-up.

“Yeah, I figure Bailey Sanchez owes me a lot more than a passing grade on a pop quiz,” I say.

Austin makes a dissenting sound beside me.

“What?” I demand.