Wolf Broken (Wolfish 2)

“I just mean,” he says, backtracking quickly, “what could they be so busy with that you couldn’t bother to tell you?”

It’s like a slap in the face. I suppose I should just be grateful that they let me sit with them at all after how much I have blown them off, but the prodding and teasing still somehow has a sting.

It stings because it’s exactly what I’ve been thinking, but hearing someone else say it makes it somehow more real. Like it’s not all just made up in my head.

Aimee wastes no time filling the awkward silence with a rant about how you can’t ever trust attractive boys because they’ll always “use you and lose you”. Tom overly exaggerates taking offence at her comments until she ends up rolling her eyes and apologizing to him. But not until he’s gotten red in the face and started sounding like he’s going to choke on his own spit.

Or cry. Which would be a thousand times worse.

It’s what Jess says next that cuts the deepest, however. I know she doesn’t mean to, but all the prodding has started to really raise a mountain of doubt in my mind.

“I mean,” she starts to say casually, but she can’t hide the undertone of cynicism in her voice. “It was one thing when those boys disappeared before you got involved with them. But now, to just vanish without telling you what’s up? That’s just not cool. How long does it take to send a text? Maybe like three seconds. The only time I would expect someone not to be able to reply to a text is if they were either having sex or dead.”

“Jess!” Aimee’s voice comes out so shrill it causes heads to turn our way.

I duck my head, half to hide the shame, and half to hide the fear.

Neither of those options are things that I want to think about. I’m guessing that Jess picks up on whatever look is resting on my face, because she suddenly becomes overly interested in picking apart her tater tots.

“Just saying,” she mumbles.

“And I thought I was the blunt one,” Aimee says, before proceeding to try to reassure me that Rory, Marlowe, and Kaleb probably have a reasonable explanation for why they’ve suddenly stopped responding.

It doesn’t work.

I know I should be grateful for the company. I should at least feel less lonely.

But sitting with Jess and Aimee and Tom … it makes me feel the way I did when I arrived. Before Rory, Marlowe, and Kaleb.

I don’t want there to be a before, because that signifies there might be an after.

I manage to make it through the rest of the school day without paying attention to any of the lessons, but at least without bursting into tears. When I get home, Mom is still gone. I guess she’s at work, but it seems like she’s never home anymore either. The sink is full of empty wine bottles and dirty glasses. I get ready to grab a towel and a change of clothes to go take a shower and clear my head, but when my phone dings I drop everything in my arms to look at it.

It’s Rory.

I’m flooded with so much relief that I feel ashamed of myself. Ashamed for doubting them, but also ashamed for letting that doubt consume me.

So much for being an independent woman who doesn’t need a man.

I’ve gone and let these boys become my everything. All three of them.

And all I get is a short, useless one-sentence text for my trouble.

“Hope you’re okay, got caught up with visitors.”

What is this, some kind of game? If he’s really concerned about whether or not I am doing okay, then he can very easily come down here and see for himself. Or Marlowe. Or Kaleb. Any one of them could.

So even though it kills me to do it, I don’t respond.

Two can play at that game.

Or in this case, four.

It’s a game that lasts all night, well past the time my mother comes in, grabs a bottle of wine, and heads straight to bed. Not that I care.

I’m already alone.

All through the night, I hear rustling and howling in the woods. I don’t know whether to be afraid of what’s going on out there, or if I should be jealous at being left out of it. Despite my common sense, I lean toward feeling angry and jealous.