Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“I was like that when I hit my growth spurt. I’d get so hangry by the time school was over, we’d have to stop immediately for a meal. Not just a snack–a full meal. Like a pre-dinner.” He chuckles.
“Sadly, I don’t think I’ll be having a growth spurt. I’ve always been small. But at least the extra calories don’t seem to be going to my waist.”
We eat our protein bars and take fancy bottled blood orange sodas out to the deck where we stand at the deck railing and look down at Wolf Ridge. Lauren joins us.
“I can’t wait to get out of this town,” I mutter.
“Same,” Lauren says. “I’ve been to snobby schools, but this one’s just plain weird. Redneck snobby or something. No offense.”
“None taken.”
“What’s with that guy Abe?”
I look over. “Eh. He’s the alpha-hole extraordinaire. Captain of the football team. Pretty much runs the school. His dad is a doctor in town. His brother Austin graduated a couple of years ago. He’s actually not that bad. He was always class president. Definitely more friendly than Abe.”
“He’s my lab partner in chemistry,” Lauren says. “He’s horrible.”
“Agreed. Guys like him are one of the perils of a small town. They think they’re practically gods here.”
“The thing that’s weird is that Wolf Ridge functions like a small town. I mean, isn’t it just a suburb of Scottsdale?”
“Mmm.” I proceed with caution. I can’t exactly explain that most everyone who lives here is a different species. “Well, Wolf Ridge was actually here long before Scottsdale or Cave Hills. It was settled around when Arizona became a U.S. territory. The mountains served to keep it separated from the suburban sprawl down there, and the brewery provided the economic industry.”
“Huh. I guess that makes sense,” Lauren says.
“It would be weird to grow up in a small town,” Lincoln observes. “To me, it’s kind of fascinating.” He shrugs. “You know, from an anthropological point of view. The workings of small town social life. There’s no diversity. Super rigid thoughts about how things are supposed to work.”
I laugh. “You must be horrified if you’re seeing all that.”
“Not horrified. I mean, I’m not trying to fit in, so I could care less about the social dynamics. I’m just trying to crack the code.” He looks over at me. “I’m curious about why some kids seem different. What sets apart the outcasts from the in-crowd? It’s not money, right? It’s more like… athletic ability?” His expression is one of doubt like he can’t believe that could be it.
Of course, he’s right, in a way.
It’s gene-based. So those with the best genetics would be the best at sports.
I look back over the town. “Wolf Ridge is all about its sports, so yeah. You nailed it.”
He’s scrutinizing me. “And you’re not sporty.”
“Not at all. You got me. I mean, I go to the games, but I don’t play anything.”
I have half a mind to ask them both to go to this week’s football game with me, but I hold back. Wilde will surely be there. I wouldn’t want another confrontation.
“So you don’t hate it here?”
He looks back out. “No. Our mom loved this place. She thought Arizona was beautiful, even though all I see is brown and rocks. But now that I’m here, I try to see it through her eyes. Once you’re used to the brown, you can see the pops of color. It’s slow and understimulating. Is that a word? I like that I hear birds in the morning.” He says it like it’s a unique thing. I guess in New York City, he wouldn’t hear birdsong.
“Yeah, that part is nice. But I still hate it,” Lauren says.
“I hear there are wolves here,” Lincoln says.
“Oh yeah.” I bob my head, trying to sound perfectly casual. “Definitely. There’s a whole pack in these hills.”
“Have you seen them?”
“Yeah. A few times.”
Like every day at school.
Or if we’re talking wolf form, every full moon. Not that I go to pack runs. I’ve been avoiding the pack meetings since puberty when it became painfully obvious that I would never shift. That I am, in fact, as defective as everyone suspected, given my small size.
“Hey, I should get home,” I say abruptly. “Thanks so much for the help.”
“No problem. We could make it a regular thing if you want.” He shrugs. “Or not. Whatever’s clever.”
“Yeah, I’d like that. Thanks.”
Lincoln drives me home, and my stomach drops when we pull up to the house.
Wilde’s Jeep is sitting in the driveway.
That’s cool. Maybe he won’t see me come home. I throw open the door and slide out, trying to make this the fastest drop-off ever. And then I see Wilde, standing at the picture window.
Doublety-fuck.
“Thanks, Lincoln–bye!” I call, shutting the door to the Tesla. I meet Wilde’s eye through the window and give my hair a haughty toss.