Gooseflesh prickled along my skin.
The birds sang in the trees.
The leaves swayed on the branches.
It felt green here. So very green.
“When we find that person,” Carter said, “when we find that one person that makes us forget everything bad that’s ever happened to us, well…. That’s what the wolf is for. It’s a gift, Ox. A promise.”
“A promise of what?” I croaked out.
He shrugged. “It can mean many things. Friendship. Family. Trust.” He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the forest. “Or more.”
“More?”
“Love. Faith. Devotion.”
“He….”
“Yeah, man. He did.”
“He was ten.”
Carter opened his eyes. “And he spoke to you after not speaking for over a year. We all knew. Even then.”
I felt a weird sense of betrayal at that. “Yet another thing to keep from me?” I asked, unable to stop the bitterness in my voice.
Carter shook his head. “You were sixteen, Ox. And you didn’t know about werewolves.”
“But when I did—”
“Jessie,” Carter said.
And so many things clicked into place. “Holy shit,” I breathed. “That’s why—”
“That and you were kind of a dick about it.”
I glared at him.
He shrugged.
“I’m not going to do anything about it,” I said. “He’s young. He’s going to college. He’s going to have a life. He’s my friend, and that’s—”
Carter snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that, Oxnard. Trust me. When Joe catches wind about this—and he will—you aren’t going to stand a chance.”
“He won’t,” I said, determined. “And you won’t say a goddamn thing.”
He grinned at me.
CARTER MADE me go back home and shower, saying that my stench was overwhelming and there was no way I could eat with them, smelling like I did.
I punched him as hard as I could.
He just laughed at me.
I tried to drag it out as long as I could, thinking of absolutely everything but Joe.
The shower lasted four minutes.