Nathan was jittering his leg, impatient to leave the stuffy school office and return to the house. He still wouldn’t say it was anything like home, but at least there he could put a door between himself and his mother.

He glanced at Brooke’s paper. She was flipping back and forth between two pages in a handbook. Rolling his eyes, he roughly nudged her. “It doesn’t matter. You’re a freshmen,” he pressed. “Classes are classes.”

She bit the end of her pencil, intent on being maddeningly indecisive. “I don’t want to be stuck in a class I don’t like for an entire semester.”

“All classes should be classes you don’t like.”

Brooke pulled a face at him. “Well, I’m not a complete punk like you.”

“Oh, ouch,” he said sarcastically, slapping his hand over his heart. “You cut me real deep, Brooke.”

She edged away from him. “Shut up,” she mumbled. Nathan ignored her, going back to staring down his shoes.

“Hey, Nate,” Elaine said, tapping his shoulder with the handbook. “They have a lot of good advanced classes. You could get some college credits. Maybe if you started doing your homework again…”

Nathan let out a short laugh. “Like that’s going to happen.”

She sighed. “All right. One step at a time. What about track? It hasn’t been too long since you quit, I’m sure you could get back into it easily.”

He dragged his gaze up to her, eyebrows raised.

“Okay,” she said. She looked at the form he had filled out. “Not even band?”

“Mom.”

“Fine, I yield,” she answered apologetically. “You can always change your mind later if you get sick of moping.”

He scoffed and leaned forward, threading his fingers through his brown hair. After a moment, Elaine reached out to pat his knee. “Honey, you know it’s not your fault.”

Nathan jerked his leg away and threw his hands up. “Christ, can we go?”

She frowned, looking wounded. “Yeah,” she said softly. She cleared her throat and pushed her bangs away from her face. “Brooke, can you wrap it up, please?”

The girl looked up, brow furrowed. “I guess,” she mumbled. She flipped back one more time and filled in the information for her last class. Brooke stood and handed it off the counselor, then waited broodingly for her mother and brothers.

They rode back in angry silence, and before Elaine could try to talk to him, he was tearing up the stairs.

Nathan pulled his head up from his pillow and tore out an ear bud. He could hear a loud, pitchy conversation through the floor and his music. Sitting up, he slapped his Gameboy down on the nightstand and crossed to his door.

The talking and brash laughter brought him to the banister. Nathan found a strange woman speaking with his mother, their voices echoing up to the upstairs hallway. He debated with himself for a moment, then ambled down to meet them.

Elaine seemed mildly surprised to see him out of his room, but she leaped to take advantage of it. She grabbed his arm and reeled him in, giving him a broad smile.

“This is my oldest, Nathan,” she said. “And Nate, this is Sylvia.”

The woman forced a grin. “Mayor Roden,” she corrected. She held out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Nate.”

He shook her hand and offered what could barely pass as a strained smile. “It’s Nathan.”

“Right,” Mayor Roden said. “Well, I just came to welcome you to Woodridge and give you my contact information, in case you see something strange.”

Nathan arched an eyebrow. “Just what might we see, Sylvia?”

She didn’t bother hiding her frown. “We have problems with wild animals. Which is why, as I’m sure you’ll tell all your children, Ms. Myer, the woods are strictly off limits. Absolutely no hiking, camping, backpacking, or whatever you might want to do beyond the edge of town.”

Elaine nervously clutched at her neckline. “Have people gotten hurt?”

“It’s happened before,” Mayor Roden admitted. “But if you stay out of the forest, you can help make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Great,” Nathan muttered sarcastically. The woman looked at him in question. “I mean, that makes it so much easier to end up in a real-life horror story. I’ve always dreamed of being immortalized through urban legends told around campfires across America.” Elaine elbowed him and shot him a disapproving frown.

“He’s kidding,” she clarified with a cheap smile. “Is there anything else you needed, Mayor Roden?”

She held up the grocery sack in her hands. “Just this. It’s homemade lasagna. A nice first meal to kick off a happy life in our little town. At least, I hope it’s nice. It’s the only thing I know how to make.”

Elaine offered a small grin in exchange for the joke. She took the sack and thanked her, then retreated to the kitchen with a vague farewell.

Mayor Roden lingered in the front door, her hand on the knob. “Nathan,” she called back. She caught his gaze with sharp, dark eyes. He frowned at her solemn expression, shuddering at the chill in the breeze. “If you want to stay out of those horror stories, don’t go near the woods.”

Elaine chewed slowly, eyes scanning the table. Zach was picking at his food with a grimace on his face, and Brooke was reading under the table, occasionally taking a bite from her plate.

She cleared her throat and spoke up in hopes of breaking the obstinate silence. “How are you guys doing?”

Nathan sighed, deep and long. “Gee, Ma, how could I be anything but great? Frozen lasagna is my favorite, after all.”

Elaine furrowed her brow, sending the boy a worried look. “Honey, I know. The house is old, it has bad breakers. I’m sure we’ll get it fixed soon, probably in the next week.”

“Of course. And you’re sure you’ll get the house painted soon, and the rooms to stop smelling like rat crap, and patch up the roof—”

“I get it,” she interrupted testily. “It’s a work in progress. Look, guys, I’m really sorry we lost the apartment. This whole adult thing is harder than you think. I never took care of the bills before…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “But I’m learning to cope, all right? Everything will be back to normal in a couple months, I promise.”

“Mom, I think you might be confused,” Nathan said. “The definition of ‘back to normal’ implies that everything will be as it was. We’re in a decrepit old house that Grandpa was probably waiting to give away, and Dad’s in Richmond. How are you going to fix that?”

Elaine paled, but it was Brooke that spoke up.

“Nathan, shut up.”

He glared at her. “Was I talking to you?”

“I don’t care,” she said, her face going red. “You’re being a jerk to everyone, and it’s getting really annoying.”

“Brooke,” Elaine interrupted warningly.

“What, he gets to say whatever he wants and I can’t even yell at him for it?” she yelled.

“Quiet down. It’s not your place, sweetie. I don’t want arguing at the table, and that’s final,” the woman said firmly.

Nathan picked at his dish. “It’ll be hard to argue when we’re all getting offed by wild animals—”

Eyes wide, Zach dropped his fork. The boy whimpered a weak, “Mom?” Elaine slammed her hand on the table. “Nathan Myer, I’ve had enough. Go to your room.”

He stood up roughly, knocking his chair back. He forced a sarcastic smile and said, “Gladly.”

When his door slammed upstairs, Zach started to cry. Brooke pushed back from the table and dropped her dishes in the sink before storming off to her room. Elaine wiped at her eye as she moved to wrap her little boy in her arms.
***

The sharp bell woke him up. Students were shuffling out the door and the teacher had him pinned with a reproachful stare. Unimpressed, Nathan slid off the stool and wandered to his next class. Gym.

When he emerged from the dressing room, he was met with a screeching whistle. The coach, Mr. Garman, was standing in the middle of the room, basketball shorts, overly-toned calves and all.

“On the line, class. Suicides!”

The other students weren’t even fazed. They lined up without a word. Must be a hotheaded teacher, he thought.

Nathan took his place at the end of the court, leaning over his leg with an agitated sigh.

Mr. Garman was hanging close by. “New kid,” he called as he looked over his clipboard. “Do you have a problem, Myer?”

Nathan looked up at him innocently. “With suicide? No, sir. In fact, I was just thinking about it.” Some of the other boys laughed quietly, but Mr. Garman scowled.

“That shouldn’t be funny to any of you. It’s not a joke.”

“Of course. Sorry, sir, I didn’t realize,” Nathan said. He turned his head forward and smiled. “Takes one to know one, I guess.”

The kid on the line next to him tried to stifle a laugh, but it bubbled out in a loud snort. Mr. Garman made a mark on his clipboard, then held it behind his back and stepped in front of him. “All right, Myer. That’s ten extra suicides for your cleverness, and I’ll be seeing you Friday after school, where you can think up plenty more of your smart aleck remarks in detention.”

Nathan grinned. “Looking forward to it, sir.”

An hour of running later, he collapsed in a chair at the back of his next class, his back sweaty and his legs burning. The late bell rang in another minute and someone dropped down in the seat beside him.

“Hey,” the boy said. His hair was dishwater blonde, his eyes an excited blue. “I’m Ted.”

Nathan raised his eyebrows, uninterested in classmates wanting to make friends. “Hi there,” he said flatly.

“Nate, right?” Before he could correct him, he went on. “I had gym with you just now. Kudos on pissing off Garman, by the way. Guy’s such a tool.”

He looked away, pretending to listen to the teacher in hopes Ted would leave him alone. “Hey man, why don’t you come to lunch with us? You do not want to try the food here.”

Nathan brought his gaze back to the boy. A flicker of a smile fought to raise his lips, but he pressed it down. “Sure,” he said indifferently.

Ted nodded and turned away, pulling a magazine out of his backpack. Nathan tuned into the lesson with a wide grin.

Brooke saw him on his way through the front entrance. “Nathan,” she hissed, hurrying over. When he didn’t answer her, she whapped him on the arm. “Nate, where were you? I was looking for you all through lunch.” she asked.

He frowned at her. “None of your business, Brooke. And don’t talk to me in school,” he said. He pushed her to the side as he walked into the hall.

The biology teacher was already speaking when he walked in. The man frowned. “You’re late, Mr.…”

“Myer,” he finished.

“That’s right. Transfer student. You can call me Mr. Sewell, and I can’t say I usually get along with students who aren’t punctual. Is your tardiness going to be a regular thing, Mr. Myer?” he asked. Nathan looked around. The whole class was watching, either him or Mr. Sewell. He caught the eye of a girl in the second row, a tall brunette with a low-cut shirt. She smiled.

Nathan returned the expression. “It probably will be, Mr. Sewell.”

The man’s jaw clenched when several students chuckled. “Take a seat and keep that smart mouth of yours shut, if you please, Myer.”

He went to an empty seat, next to a mousy girl with even mousier hair. She pushed up her glasses as he sat down and moved her things off of his side of the table. Looking up, she saw the teacher was done speaking and headed to his desk.

“Hi,” she said with a poorly contained grimace. “Uh, I’m Rachel.” She sent a glance to the girl beside her, who only gave her an apologetic shrug.

Rachel sputtered out a long breath and turned toward him. “Look, I get your whole don’t-give-a-damn routine, but please don’t ruin my grade.”

Nathan lost his grin. “Of course not,” he said, stretching his legs out. “I don’t have the motivation for sabotage. Just don’t expect any help.”

“I’m good without it. But seriously, mess up my score in any way, and I will hurt you.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Okay. Noted. Don’t cross the nut-job with the Buddy Holly glasses.” Rachel nodded and pulled out her notebook, seeming to forget him until class was over. As she stood, she looked at his schedule. Apparently in the mood to be nice now that her grade was secure, she pointed to the paper.

“You have an off block next hour. Do you know where you can go?”

“I have naptime next hour,” he amended. “I think it’s safe to assume I can do that anywhere.”

Rachel blinked slowly. “Right. Still a punk. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.” Nathan smiled to himself as she walked past. “I’ll be counting the minutes,” he called after her.

Nathan entered his last class with a sigh of relief. Just another hour, and he could go back home—or at least, back to solitude. The teacher caught his eye as he walked in.

“Hello, you must be Nathan Myer. I’m Ms. Simon, and this is Literature and Composition,” she said, beaming. She advanced, right hand out, and roughly shook his hand. “Sit wherever, and after class I’ll get you caught up with what we did in August. Sound good?”

He gave her a skeptical stare. “Peachy,” he said under his breath. He was dubious that a high school teacher could be so…social. Shrugging it off, he sat in the nearest spot at the back of the room and slumped down.

Most of the class filled up before a quiet voice addressed him from behind. “Sorry,” she said. He looked up to find the mousy girl, Rachel, looming over him. “This is my seat.”

Nathan dipped one corner of his lips down and arched an eyebrow. “That sucks.”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

He turned his head to the front. “Find a new seat. Don’t worry, I’m sure your grade will be just fine.” Rachel scoffed, but moved to sit next to the guy in front of them. The bell rang, and the girl turned around.

“Sorry, Holl,” she said, looking daggers at him. “This jackass took my seat.”

The chair beside him slid out and the girl sat down. Nathan drew his gaze over and blanched. Holy hell.

The first thing that registered were the bundles and bundles of curling, golden hair. Then she turned her head to see him and bright green eyes hit him like a freight train. Her shirt was buttoned up to its rounded collar and tucked into her skinny jeans.

His mouth twitched up and he straightened his back. “Hi there.” He looked at the notebook on her desk. Holly Brenwick.

Holly frowned, pulling her cardigan over her shirt. She ignored him, instead giving her attention to the board.

Nathan cleared his throat. “How… How’s it going?”

She sighed before she shot a flat glare at him. “You’re rude to your teachers.”

He dumbly watched her mouth as it moved. “What?” he stammered.

“I’ve already had you in class. You were rude, and you didn’t do the work.”

His smile slipped at that. “So?” He shuffled in his seat. “What makes you think I’m a perfect student?”

“Nothing.” Holly fell silent after that, her attention on the lesson. Nathan scoffed in disbelief. When he realized she was being completely serious, he slouched back down. In another moment, her brow furrowed and she pointed at the board. “Semantics,” she echoed after the teacher.

He looked and, finding nothing interesting, shrugged. Holly sighed again. “The notes.” She ripped a sheet of paper from her notebook and slapped it down on his desk. “Are on semantics.”

Nathan frowned uneasily, but took out his pencil and started to write.

Nathan picked at his tray. It was the second time this week that Ted had left for lunch without him, and he was sitting alone. If Brooke had even seen him, she didn’t make the slightest effort to invite him over. She was at another table with Rachel and, he noticed with a pang of jealously, Holly Brenwick.

He was about to dump his tray when someone slapped him on the shoulder. “Hey man,” Ted said, sipping noisily from his drink. “I was looking for you.”

“I’m sure you were worried sick,” Nathan mumbled. Ted finished what was in his cup and tossed it toward the nearest trash can. It missed, but he didn’t react. “Anyway,” he said, “there’s going to a party out in the woods next Saturday. You down?”

Nathan stopped mid-chew. “The woods?” He swallowed. “Isn’t there all kind of dangerous wildlife out there?”

Ted smiled, a mischievous twist of his mouth. “Yeah,” he affirmed. “I’m going to sneak my dad’s rifle out with his booze. You know, just in case. But nothing like that ever really happens.” Nathan only grimaced. He was sure that was what everyone thought before something like that actually happened. Ted’s grin broadened. “What, are you scared or something?”

“No,” he said hurriedly. He feigned a joking grin and laughed. “Stay away from the tall grass and we won’t hit any wild monsters, right?”

He frowned. “What?” Nathan cleared his throat. “Nothing,” he muttered. “Bad joke.”

Ted nodded as he stood. “Okay. Hey, if there’s beer or anything at your house, make sure to bring it. Plus…five bucks. For drinks, you know.”

Nathan’s face fell. “Yeah, sure.” Ted walked off to join
his group of friends, dumping him at the table, alone again.
***

Nathan let his eyes wander around the room. Everyone else was still working and Holly was reading her book, leaving him sitting in awkward silence.

“So…” he started. He drew out his words, undecided on whether he should even be talking. “How’s it going?”

She shot him a quick glance. “Just finish your work, please.”

“I am finished,” he said. “Why do you always assume the worst about me?”

Holly set her book down with a sigh. “Because you never do anything in other classes. The safer bet was that you hadn’t bothered with the assignment.”

He regarded his paper with a frown. “Do I really come off as that lazy?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Yes.”

Nathan shrugged and started tapping his pencil against the desk. “Good to know.”

Holly looked at his work, almost confused. “I’m guessing you weren’t always this…listless. I mean, lazy people don’t typically know how to analyze Shakespeare.”

He couldn’t help a slanted grin. “I am a man of many mysteries,” he said sarcastically. Holly gave a little laugh and a wider smile spread across his face.

She looked him over for a minute. “So what made you such a slacker?”

“You sure do say what’s on your mind,” he muttered, his smile faltering.

Holly shrugged. “I’m honest. It’s what you act like. You can’t be unaware of what people think of you.”

“I guess,” he said under his breath. He broke her gaze, searching for somewhere else to rest his eyes.

“What?” she said. “Don’t tell me you don’t do it on purpose. People aren’t accidentally mean to teachers. You obviously don’t ignore assignments because you can’t do it.” Holly shrugged. “You’re a slacker. You slack.”

He raked his gaze back to her. “What about you? Can you truly tell me, oh Honest Holly, that you’d do all this work, hours of it every night, if you knew there was no way it would amount to anything?”

She only frowned. “No, that would be, by definition, insanity. But it does amount to something. Good grades, good college, good job.”

“Unfortunately, colleges don’t care about your good grades if you have no money.”

“Yes, they do. There are scholarships, Nathan, for kids with that exact problem. If you really care—”

“It still doesn’t matter,” he cut her off, frustrated. “Scholarships are impossible to get.”

Holly paused, her eyes full of pity. “Who told you that?”

He bit his tongue, positive about what she would say, and just as sure he didn’t want to hear it. But in another minute, he gave in. “My dad.”

“Well, he’s wrong.” There it was. Nathan stood up.

“It’s too late anyway, Holly.” He grabbed the pass on his way about and took as long as he could coming back.

When he returned to his seat, Ms. Simon was speaking to the class. To his surprise, Holly persisted through the lecture.

“When…my mom died, she told me that there’s always another way,” she said softly. “That you should never stop searching for a solution.”

Nathan sighed. “I’m sorry. About your mom.” What else could he say?

“Don’t be.” Holly shook her head. “You can make things better, you know. She didn’t waste her last words to me. Never stop searching.”

He watched her for a moment, but she was gone again, eyes on the board. With a sigh, he turned to the front of the class and propped his head up with his hand.

Elaine assailed him the moment the front door shut.

“Nathan Myer,” she said, holding up a piece of paper. “Care to explain yourself?”

Caught off-guard, he blinked. “What did I do now?” he asked.

She crossed her arms, steam practically leaking from her ears. “It’s what you didn’t do. Look at these grades!” Nathan held back a laugh. He knew it was bound to come up eventually, and here it was. “You’re failing woodshop. How do you even do that?”

He slipped past her to the kitchen. “Easy. By not going.”

Elaine sighed, regarding the paper with sad eyes. “At least you have an eighty in your last block. English? Is that the only class your stimulated in?”

Nathan couldn’t keep back a grin. “Something like that.”

The woman shook her head. “I don’t know when you decided school wasn’t important, but you better get these grades up, Nathan,” she said, “or your grounded.”

That caught his attention. “Grounded?” he echoed. “But there’s a party next week, and—”

“Party?” Elaine laughed. “Nathan, I wouldn’t let you go if you had perfect grades in every class. Not with the way you’ve been acting.”

“Mom, come on!” he objected, nearly shouting. “How is that fair?”

She shook her head. “Fine, I’ll make a deal with you.” Elaine put the report on the table and pushed it toward him. “Get your GPA back to what it was, before you started acting like a spoiled teenager, and you can go to your party.”

Nathan threw his hands up. “I don’t have any weighted classes. That’s literally impossible!”

Elaine’s mouth tipped up in a half smile. “I know,” she said, and walked away.
***

Nathan leaned against a pillar, waiting for his ride to go to lunch. As he scanned the room, Brooke caught his eye and quickly looked away. She was sitting with her usual group of friends, with a hulking, blonde addition. Some guy he hadn’t seen around had his arm around Holly’s waist.

His jaw clenched. He spied Rachel out of the corner of his eye and without thinking, reached out and grabbed her arm. “Hey, what gives?” she said, pulling away from him.

He ignored her and gestured at the other boy. “Who is that?” She glanced around and shrugged. “Who?”

Nathan rolled his eyes. “There’s quite a bit of him, my finger can’t be pointing at much else.” Rachel looked again and furrowed her brow.

“The guy at our table? That’s Chris.”

“Chris who?”

“Sanborn. My brother,” she said, eyebrows raised. She folded her arms across her chest. “He and Holly are dating. What’s it to you?”

Nathan pursed his lips to the side, but didn’t say anything. Rachel laughed. “Wait, are you jealous?” She cracked a smile. “Holly’s been my best friend since the third grade, dude. Believe me, she would never go for a guy like you.”

“Come on, you hardly know me,” he countered.

“Your sister does,” she said, “and she hasn’t exactly been putting in a good word. I know your type, and it’s not Holly’s. No offense, but maybe you should aim for someone with a lower grade point average.”

He shot her a glare, but she shrugged it off and went to her table. He could see her say something to the group and then a head of golden curls turned to look straight at him.

He panicked for a moment, then swung his gaze to the opposite direction. Flushing with embarrassment, he slid behind the pillar until Ted appeared and he could fall into step beside him.
***

Nathan checked the time again, then once more a moment later. He would have to leave in half an hour if he was going to the party.

He sat up in the unlit room, still struggling to get his thoughts together. The memory of Mayor Roden’s warning was still in his mind, but the image of Holly frowning at him with her boyfriend’s arm around her was fresher.

Although he would undoubtedly get in trouble next morning, he had already destroyed his golden boy standing with his family. Trying to think of something he could lose by going out didn’t work. There was nothing to lose. His mother’s trust in him was rapidly declining, he couldn’t care less what his siblings thought, and his dad was miles away, probably celebrating the divorce.

Besides, he was young. How could one party effect his whole life? It simply couldn’t.

He stood up and switched his lamp on. He was lacing up his boots when he thought of Holly, insisting he took notes, forcing him to read aloud, smiling when he participated.

Nathan frowned and pulled the shoelaces taut. “It’s never going to happen, Nate,” he said to himself as he snatched his coat from the closet.

He crept down the stairs, careful to avoid the noisiest steps. His hand was on the doorknob when he heard a voice behind him.

“Nate?” Brooke had fallen asleep on the couch, her homework strewn over the coffee table. “Where are you going?”

Letting his hand drop, he sighed. “Do you really care, Brooke?” She frowned as she wiped the sleep from her eyes.

“No, I guess I don’t,” she said angrily. The girl gathered her things and hurried off to her room without another word. Relieved, Nathan sighed and slipped out into the dark town.

The bonfire crackled to itself, sending the occasional ember in the air. It was cold this close to the fire, so he could only imagine how bitingly freezing it was ten feet away, where half of the party was making out in the dark.

Nathan looked back at the fire and took another swig of beer. He was on his second bottle, and he wasn’t quite sure how much it would take to wipe away the guilt he couldn’t seem to shake.

As hard as he tried not to, he kept picturing what his mom would look like in the morning when he came home, smelling like beer and covered with dirt and leaves. He could see all of it, puffy red eyes, ruffled hair, tears and all. Then he realized he only knew that look so well because that’s what his father had done every weekend for the past two years.

He stared at the bottle with a reproachful glower before he set it down beside the log and stood.

“Hey,” a small voice said behind him. He turned to see a short girl, brown hair half pinned up and half falling over skinny shoulders. She was probably regretting her choice of shorts and a thin jacket.

“Jeez, you look freezing.” He shrugged off his coat and handed it to her. “Here.”

She offered a grin that was small and nervous. “Thanks,” she said softly. “I’m Kelsey.”

“Nathan.” The girl sat down on the log and he lowered himself to join her. He cleared his throat, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. Kelsey drew his jacket around herself and shivered. Unsure of what to do, he stretched his arm around her shoulder.

He could see checkers of the sky through the trees and he smiled. “Full moon,” he commented, gesturing towards it. The moon hung, bloated and bright, right above the camp.

“Yeah,” Kelsey muttered. “It’s pretty.” She cocked her head to the side. “I wonder what makes it so bright.”

Nathan shuffled where he sat. “The sun,” he said. She only frowned at him. “Well, it’s not romantic, but it’s true. It’s sunlight reflecting off the moon.”

Kelsey laughed. “That’s so stupid, the sun isn’t even out.” He opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it.

“Of course. Don’t know what I was thinking.” He shook his head at himself, then dropped his hand to Kelsey’s far side. Pushing the image of golden curls out of his mind, he leaned over and kissed her.

She pulled away first, hand over her lips. She giggled as she stood up. “Thanks, dude,” she said, dropping his jacket on his lap. “I just won twenty bucks.”

With that, she ran back to her friends, all laughing loudly.

Nathan felt a deep blush. He wrestled his jacket back on and hurried away from the camp, striving to get the giggling out of his ears.

When the clamor or the party became a distant hum, he stopped and looked around. The forest was still, hardly a flicker of life to be seen. Nathan sat down on against a tall, dead tree. The ground was covered in a layer of wet leaves, but he didn’t mind. He’d always like the smell of the woods.

He drew the back of his hand across his mouth. The smell was so strong, he could almost taste it. Dirt, grass, leaves. Blood.

Nathan spit to the side, then wiped at his lips and nose. He couldn’t see anything, nothing red. No blood. He pushed himself to his feet, still searching his hands. Something wrong with the beer, he thought.

A howl ripped through the air. His hair stood on end, and his blood felt like ice. He looked around, looking for find movement.

Nothing. It’s nothing. Frayed nerves, not enough sleep, too much to drink. He shuddered and hugged his elbows.

He realized the sound of the party was almost inaudible. “I should get back,” he muttered to himself, just to hear a voice. He stepped forward and another howl shredded the silence. Nathan clenched his jaw. The howl didn’t sound right; it was too human.

He jumped. He saw something move, he could have sworn.

“Hello?” he called. Maybe someone else was in the mood to play a prank on him. “Okay, you got me! Come on, who isn’t afraid of the big bad wolf?”

There was no answer, only the rustling of leaves. Nathan swallowed hard and turned on his heels, eager to see the light of the fire. But which way was it?

A sharp bark made him lose his balance and he tripped, barely catching himself on a tree. He looked up and sighed. “A stray,” he said. He scowled at the dog. “Thanks, buddy. You’re a real pal.” He made to leave when the stray moved into a ray of moonlight. It didn’t have a tail.

Nathan grimaced at the taste in his mouth. Dirt and blood. “Hey,” he said softly, reaching a hand toward it. “Are you hurt?”

The dog bounded a few feet away and howled. He sighed. “You and me both, buddy. Just can’t handle the bitches, right?” It growled at him when he stepped closer. Nathan frowned. “What’s wrong, huh? Do you even need help?” He heard another growl, deeper, louder…behind him.

Nathan whirled. This one was no dog. It was huge, as tall as his waist with rippling, bulking muscles. It was dark, but it almost looked hairless, with a bloody tear up its leg.

“Oh God,” he breathed. He stumbled back, unable to do more than shuffle his feet, and fell. He wanted to shout, but his voice was stuck in his throat. Panicked, he could feel his heart thumping wildly, his breath speed out of control.

His mind turned to his mother again. What she would look like in the morning when he didn’t come home, when she got the call.

Nathan got to his feet and looked for a place to hide, to climb. He moved for the nearest tree…too late. The beast lunged.

The wind fled his lungs when his back collided with the hard ground. He didn’t have any air to cry out with. His eyes went wide when the stinging cuts from the beast’s claws registered. He could feel them burning from his hips to his chest, on his thighs, his stomach. All he could think to do was hit back, whack his fists into the creature, but it was useless.

He finally regained a deep breath when it tore into his shoulder, its teeth hooking through flesh and muscle. Nathan screamed, as loud and long as he could, again and again.

It was several agonizing minutes before they reached him. He heard them coming, cursing and breathing hard, but he didn’t feel saved. The beast was still on him, jaw clamped around his arm, claws deep in his torso.

A shot rang out through the air, and the monster was off, thank God, away. Ears buzzing, he took a shuddering breath and tried to look, to see if he was safe.

The horrible thing was bleeding, he could tell from the dim light, staggering to a stand on powerful legs. Another shot lit the night and he saw it for a split second. Every furious line on its snarling face and those bright eyes, like a flinch of sky.

The bullet struck through its head and the beast fell. Nathan let his head drop and he closed his eyes, suddenly terribly tired.

There were voices that emerged from the darkness around him all at once, frantic and scared.

“God,” came one, “oh God, please no. Jesus, what do we do?”

“Hey,” another repeated over and over in a hushed voice. “Stay awake.” He felt a dull slap, someone shaking him. Pressure started to fall all over him, over his stinging wounds and his mess of a shoulder. He moaned weakly and turned his head. The taste was still there. So much blood, he heard. Christ, so much…

There was a high-pitched scream, then another lower one. More gunfire, a startled yelp, growling, screaming.

“What the hell was that?”

“Holy shit!” The higher voice. “He’s dead. Oh my God, we are so screwed.”

“Shut up!” yelled the voice above him. His voice cracked as he went on. “He’s still alive. Call an ambulance.”

The noise began to fade out. He was so tired, so cold. The pain, the panic, the shaking all ebbed away. He just wanted to sleep.

But something wouldn’t let him. For a long while, he kept being jolted conscious, prodded by desperate voice. Stay awake. He was giving into his torpor again, then bright lights shone through his eyelids. Red and blue, red and blue, stuck on repeat until something shut against them. There was a final harsh jerk that brought him near awareness, but it didn’t last long.

As sleep finally came, he heard one last voice, choked and sorrowful.

“Nathan.” Mom? “God, baby, don’t leave me. Please be okay.”

There was a low beeping at the edge of his hearing. Instinctively, he moved to hit the snooze button, but when he tried to lift his arm, a sharp pain fired through his shoulder. Nathan opened his eyes, startled. This wasn’t his room.

The bed was covered in rumpled white sheets and a light blue fabric was peeking out—his clothing, he realized. Everything was so numb, he didn’t notice his own arm until it moved in the corner of his eye. A pang of nausea hit him when he saw the needle in his forearm. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. A hospital? What happened?

He looked around the room. There was a curtain separating him from the other half of the room, and a chair by the wall. He blinked. A man was sitting there, hunched over and sleeping. Nathan kept searching, for an indication of what to do, a sign of someone else.

As he became more aware, he could start to feel a dull ache all over his torso. It swelled when he tried to move, so he kept as still as possible. He tried to ignore it, but after a while the pain became more persistent. He still couldn’t find a call button, so he tried calling out.

The man in the chair came to. Nathan pinched his eyes shut. If he could have gotten up and left, he would have.

“Nate?” he said quietly. The chair moved to the side of his bed. “Nate, what’s wrong?”

He clenched his jaw. What the hell do you think is wrong? The drowsiness he had felt when he woke up returned, and the throbbing ache fell away. He opened his eyes to glare at the man as he set the button down. “Better?”

Nodding, he relaxed. “What are you doing here?”

Nick let out a disbelieving laugh and arched his eyebrows. “What am I doing here?” he echoed. “I had to drive Brooke and Zach down here because your mother rode with you in the ambulance.”

Nathan frowned. The ambulance. That was right…the flashing lights, the constant bumping of the car as it sped out of the woods, that awful, livid face. The wolf.

“Oh my God,” he muttered. He ran his right hand through his hair, trying to piece everything together. “I…”

“You were drunk,” Nick finished, “messing around in the woods, and you got sicced by a wild animal.”

He sighed. “Dad, I wasn’t drunk.”

“Really, Nathan? You’re in a hospital; they tested you. You had enough alcohol in your blood to be considered drunk. All your friends were, too.” He shook his head. “Four-foot-tall wolf that brushed off a bullet to the head, my ass. It’s a wonder they knew what to do. It’s a miracle you’re alive at all, with all the blood you lost.”

Nathan let his eyes wander, not wanting to look at his father. He wondered if the door was open. “It wasn’t my fault,” he said weakly. “It just…came out of nowhere.”

“Don’t give me that. You knew what was out there, but you still went!” Nick slumped back in his chair, fuming. “One stupid mistake, and I’m paying out of the ass for the rest of my life. I don’t have the money, Nathan.” He shut his eyes with a long sigh. “I guess against odds like that, there’s got to be some good reason you survived. You’re lucky the Lord thinks you’re so important.”

Before he could stop himself, he sat up, cursing at the man. “Would you go? Just leave, now!”

Nick’s eyes shot open. “What did you just say?” Nathan scowled, ignoring the racing pulse of the heart monitor.

“I said get out. I don’t need you to make me feel like shit for almost dying.” He’d never been so mad at the man, never hated him so much for everything he did and didn’t do. “You left us! You don’t know me anymore, you have no right to be here!”

Fuming, Nick lurched to his feet. “Don’t you raise your voice at me—”

It was then that a nurse came rushing in. “Sir!” she interrupted. She looked back and forth between them before she said, “You’re going to have to leave, Mr. Myer.”

For a moment, it seemed like he was going to argue. Then he turned on his heel and sped from the room. The nurse followed him out with an exasperated exhale, and in another minute, his mother was rushing in.

“Nathan,” she said, taking the seat by his bed. “Are you okay, baby? How are you feeling?”

He eased himself back down as the steady beeping slowed. “Fine,” he muttered. He winced when a sharp sting went through his side. “Getting jumped by a feral dog hurts like hell, though.” He sighed once he was settled in. “Let’s get this over with. What’s my sentence?”

Elaine smiled sadly. “I’m just happy you’re okay. For now,” she answered. She rubbed at tired eyes. “But everything checked out. No rabies, no infections, and it didn’t hit anything but skin, besides your shoulder. They said it should heal fine with some therapy.”

Nathan nodded slowly. “What did they say happened, exactly?”

“The police gathered that it was just an ordinary wolf, maybe a wild dog. Those kids…they were delusional. They said it was enormous, black, insisted it was some kind of monster. The boy with the rifle, he said he swore he hit it in the side first, then the head, and it walked off like it was nothing. He probably missed and scared it off.” Elaine was staring off into space, tears welled up in her eyes. They started to fall as she shook her head. “God, Nathan, what were you thinking? I could have lost you.”

This was the part he had been dreading. “Mom, I’m sorry. It was stupid, and I should have stayed home.”

“But why?” she insisted. “Do you feel like I don’t give you enough attention? Do you want help? What do you need me to do?”

“Mom, no, I just…” Nathan paused, not sure why he had done it. “I don’t know. I thought it would be fun. That I could relax for a while, have a good time. I didn’t think anything could happen.”

Elaine was quiet for a long while. “Me neither. I had no idea this place was so dangerous. Maybe…”

Nathan froze, thinking of golden curls and green eyes. “Mom, don’t think like that. I’m never going near the woods again, okay? Besides, we don’t have anywhere else to go. We’ll be fine here.”

She looked him over before she nodded. Leaning forward, she pulled him into a hug. “I love you, Nathan.”

He sighed. “I love you too.”
***

Elaine tapped on his door. “What?” he groaned, rolling his eyes.

She peaked in, already in her pajamas, her hair pinned up in a messy pile. “Just checking. Do you need anything?”

“For the tenth time, no.”

She still hesitated by the door, biting her lip. He had been so easy to set off lately. “Are you comfortable? You don’t feel any pain?”

Nathan dropped his head back. “If I was on any more medication, I would be dead. Mom, I’m fine. I’ve been in a hospital for days, can you please just let me sleep?”

“All right,” she muttered. But on her way back down the hall from the bathroom, she stopped by his door again. Elaine quietly crossed the room and lowered herself to his bedside. He hadn’t slept well in the hospital, so hopefully he would get more rest in his own bed.

Sighing, she wondered if Nathan’s temper would die down as more time grew in between his last meeting with Nick, or if this constant rage was part of what her boy was growing in to.

“Mom?” Elaine looked up to see Brooke hovering in the doorway. She gestured for the girl to come closer and sit beside her.

“What’s up, sweetie?” she whispered. Brooke sniffled, wiping off her cheeks. Her lower lip started to tremble as she looked back at her brother. Nathan was frowning in his sleep, like he had been for the past week.

“Mom, are we going to be okay?” Elaine pulled her daughter close and kissed the top of her head. “Of course we are,” she said softly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “We’re going to be just fine.”
***

He was running. Not the freeing sprint he used to love, but a frantic, desperate escape. Something was after him.

The trees were everywhere, making a maze of roots and low branches that fought against him as he fled. He stopped, looked around. He had to hide, to get away somehow.

Too late. The monster was on him, snarling, infuriated face just inches from his. Fiery pain locked onto his shoulder and he screamed. He shouted for help and struck the beast, but no one could hear him. As he cried, pounding with all his might, he realized no one was coming. No one would ever come.

Nathan started awake, the wild knocking still in his ears. He raked his gaze to the door, then to his clock. It was two in the morning.

He got to his feet, moaning at his aches and pains. He held his side as he shuffled over the door and yanked it open.

Zach froze, his fist in the air. His eyes were wide, a quivering frown set on his pale face. Nathan sighed. “What is it?”

The boy gulped, ringing the bottom of his shirt. “You were screaming.”

He furrowed his brow. “No, I wasn’t. Why are you even up this late?”

“You were yelling for help,” he insisted. “I heard you.”

Nathan suddenly became aware of how dry his mouth was. He swallowed hard. “Whatever. I’m fine, so…” He started to close his door, but Zach stepped forward.

“I’ve been having nightmares too,” he said quietly, as if it were a secret. Nathan grimaced. He could taste something in his mouth, dirt and leaves. Hair, and blood.

“Go back to bed, Zach.” He shut the door in the boy’s face, lingering with his hand on the doorjamb. Quick footsteps hurried down the hall and another door latched loudly. Nathan rested his head on the cool wood, pushing the snarling face from his mind. Green eyes, he thought. Bright, golden curls.