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, uh…what would you think about…”
Fuck.
Coach Jamison doesn’t help me out. He just chews his final hamburger and watches me, waiting.
“My dad wants me to ask you if I can train with the team.”
“What do you want?”
“Nobody cares what I want.”
“Ah.”
I finish my third hamburger and start in on the fries. I guess I thought Coach would say something more, but he doesn’t. Nor does he answer my question about training with the team.
“So can I?”
“No.”
“No?”
I’m surprised. I mean, I guess I thought this conversation was going pretty well up until now. He’d seemed supportive. Sympathetic, even.
He throws a fifty-dollar bill down on the table and wipes his mouth with his napkin. “Think about why I said no. When you have the answer, come see me.”
Chapter Four
Rayne
Everybody’s talking about Wilde at school. He’s still Wolf Ridge famous, having only graduated two years ago, and I guess the Tiktok of him being taken out of the hotel in handcuffs went viral, at least in Wolf Ridge, this morning. In my Calculus class, the teacher had to step out of the classroom, and suddenly it was a What’s the Scoop with Wilde Woodward? fest.
Do you think he’ll keep playing football?
Will they even let him?
What will his dad say?
Is he still in jail?
“He’s home.” I don’t know what possesses me to speak. I’m certainly not trying to claim any kind of relationship with the guy.
But suddenly, everyone turns to me.
Suddenly, I’m not invisible.
“Oh right. You’re his new stepsister.” Casey Muchmore eyes me with interest. “So what’s the scoop?”
“He’s back while things get sorted out.” I shrug.
“But what happened?” Abe presses.
Damn. It’s tempting to spill everything I know about the situation. To have people interested in what I have to say. To be able to offer them this currency of information in exchange for a few moments of their attention and appreciation.
But I, of all people, know what it’s like to have the entire town gossiping about you. It sucks. And even though I don’t owe Wilde anything–unless you count the ride to school he gave me this morning under his father’s orders–I’m not quite willing to dish out his pain for everyone to examine.
“It’s his story to tell, not mine.”
Everyone stares at me, some with surprise, some with outright resentment. Like they can’t believe my audacity to not feed them everything they crave.
“Oh, please, Runt.” Scorn accents Abe Oakley’s words. He used to be semi-decent. Earnest, even. But now he’s an outright dick. Rather than following in his brother Austin’s footsteps and becoming class president, he took Cole Muchmore’s gloried position as the school’s biggest alpha-hole. His word is the law around here. “Don’t pretend you and Wilde even exist in the same reality. He wouldn’t claim you as his stepsister if you were the only family he had left.”
That shouldn’t hurt. I’ve heard every derisive comment imaginable from the kids in this school, but it lands like a spear straight through my chest. Maybe because I know exactly how true it is.
My upper lip lifts in a snarl, surprising everyone, including myself. I don’t have wolfish tendencies since I don’t shift. My eyes don’t change color. I don’t growl. The hairs at the back of my neck rarely stand on end.
I’m saved from any kind of stand-off by the teacher returning to the room. “In your seats,” Ms. Landon, our math teacher, snaps. She’s a wolf, so her authority has a particular ring to it that makes us all respond.
Her nostrils flare as she takes in the scents of the room, and for some reason her gaze lands on me. I don’t know what she scents. My fear?
I didn’t feel afraid, though. Hurt, yes. Definitely defensive. But those scents are more subtle, especially in a crowded room of shifters.
We sit through a lesson on derivatives, and then she passes out a worksheet for us to practice problems. I can’t focus. I’m still hot under the collar from the offense Abe gave me, which isn’t like me.
Usually, I ignore all the bullshit. I’ve been dealing with it my whole life. I don’t know why this would bother me so much, but it does.
I have the dark urge to challenge Abe, which of course, would be suicide.
I want to get him back for poking my sore spot. But I guess the real question is why that spot is so sore? Nothing he said was wrong.
Wilde does hate me. He hates me being his sister. He probably will never accept me as being family.
When I walk out of class, Lincoln, a new human kid, falls into step with me. “Hey.”
I look over at him. It’s not the first time he’s tried to strike up a conversation. I rebuffed his overtures at friendship because, well, I have enough trouble as it is. I don’t want to get a reputation for being a human magnet. Besides, he has a twin here at school. A sister. It’s not like he’s alone.