Page 87 of Wolfsong (Green Creek 1)

“You’re breathing really heavily.”

“It’s a thing I do. Big guy, you know? Need big breaths.”

“Yeah,” Mom said. “I don’t think that’s a thing.”

“I need to change my shirt.” I refused to look her in the eye.

“You want me to wait for you?”

I shook my head. “No. No. That’s… fine.” I wanted her to leave so I could punch something.

She waited until I stepped away from the door before pushing past me. She frowned when she tried to turn the knob. “Did you lock this?”

I smiled. I probably looked crazy. “Force of habit.”

“Uh-huh.” She went out and closed the door behind her.

I punched the wall. It hurt like a bitch.

He was only seventeen. That was wrong.

Except he was almost eighteen.

Which… okay.

But.

It was Joe.

And back and forth and back and forth.

My phone went off. A text message.

Joe.

Where r u???

I looked at the clock. I’d been sitting in front of the door for twenty minutes already.

“Shit,” I muttered.

I couldn’t not go to dinner. It was tradition. And If I begged off sick, someone (JoeJoeJoe) would come and check on me.

So I had to go.

I couldn’t do anything about my heartbeat. They’d hear that regardless. I’d think of something.

But the smell.

I ran up the stairs and tore off my shirt, grabbing another from the drawer. I pulled it on as I went into the bathroom. I found an old bottle of cologne I never wore anymore because the wolves didn’t like it. It blocks you out, Joe had told me once. Most of you, anyway.

I sprayed myself at least six times.

I texted back.

on my way

It took me another twenty minutes to convince myself to walk back to the house at the end of the lane.