Chapter 18

"Good morning, class." said Jeffrina as she put her school bags on the desk.
"Good morning." The class chanted in a misleading chorus.
"Today..." said Jeffrina, looking at the door at Shirley, one of the few wolves in our pack born on what we call the cursed day. December twenty-fifth. He couldn't turn. He was stuck in wolf form and had the rarest fur. "We've a new disciple." He was home-schooled all his life.
He was red all over, had light blue paws and a white snout. Everyone thought he was a redhead with cat-like eyes, but his mother thought he was a brown head like his father.
He kept to himself and no one cared about him. He couldn't do anything that the children at school liked to do.

After school was out, Isabella walked through the forest. Peter was standing there, leaning against a tree. He smiled at her breathtakingly. She just stood there staring at him.
Isabella almost tripped over a frog, "Ik."
He smiled her favorite crooked smile that made it hard to breathe. Wow, he was really beautiful, with his bright eyes and smile like a red carpet. He blew her mind, "Ik? Is that even a word?"
Isabella shrugged, trying to ignore the butterflies dancing in her stomach. "Can I interrogate you today?"
He didn't even stop smiling as he spoke. "It's my turn today."
"What could you possibly ask? There's nothing remotely interesting about me or my life."
"True."
Isabella sighed. "You're forewarned."
"I'll keep that in mind." He held out his hand to her. She took it without question. "What's your favorite color?"
She looked down sheepishly, "I told you, there's nothing interesting about me."
He tipped her chin. She winced; she hadn't expected him to be so close. She tried to act normal, but the frantic pounding of her heart betrayed her. She knew he could hear it.
"I think I should judge that."
His eyes were so beautiful, so green and so full of life, "Eyes."
He frowned. "Eyes?" he smiled. "Bella, I asked you what your favorite color was."
"Green," Isabella averted her gaze from his penetrating stare. "Green, that's my favorite color." At this point, she was breathing through her mouth.
He let go of her and Isabella sighed in relief. But her heart didn't stop beating hard against her chest.
"It was green before?" Humor danced in his eyes.
Isabella looked at his straight black hair and avoided his gaze, "Black."
"Black?" he gestured her way. Isabella sighed and heard his footsteps follow. "Book?"
She blushed. "I'm not a very good reader. I can't make it past the first page."
"Books are a good way to escape reality."
She turned and stared into his eyes. "I wouldn't want to escape my reality, especially now."
He smiled down at her, and soon She found herself lost in his mesmerizing gaze, "Me too."
She cleared her throat and continued on her way.
"Person?"
"You're asking me about my favorite person?" Isabella raised an eyebrow. "I thought that was obvious." She paused, then realized he was still waiting for an answer. "You."
He scoffed, "Except me."
"My father," she frowned, "No, my brother." She shook her head. "I don't know."
"Your brother," he paused and took a deep breath.
Isabella shrugged her shoulders. "Leslie, but I call him Lee. Actually, he's my twin, only seven minutes older. Personally, I think of him as my other half, even though we're opposites. He's good at everything, sports, singing, and, hard to believe, he can dance. The only thing I can do better than him is school. He's closer to mom. I, on the other hand, am a daddy's girl. And he always lets me win when we play chess or Scrabble. I think he does that on purpose. He spends more time with me than with his friends. He says so himself." She stopped talking and he smiled at her. "I'm rambling, aren't I?"
"No, keep talking."
"I tend to do that, often."
"So it's just you, your father and your twin."
"Oh. No..." she laughed, "Sue, my mother. And then Callie, my sister, and her boyfriend Silas. That's the only family I've. My paternal aunt died when I was eighteen, and so did my grandparents. I never got to know them. And my mother's twin died in childbirth: a Wendigo must've smelled the blood."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
Isabella shrugged. "My father never met his mother; she ran off with her real partner when he was just six. What kind of parents do that?" She paused when she realized she was getting excited. "My grandfather Lewis raised Dad by himself. My dad thinks Lewis still had hope that Grandma Wells would come back. Now he's in jail."
He looked so sad, "For what?"
"When I was twelve, he did some really bad things. That's all my dad tells me, but I think he killed someone unjustly. Grandma Wells, maybe. I don't know." Isabella smiled up at him. "You see, my family isn't so perfect."
He just took her in his arms and held her close. He didn't say anything, he just held her. "We're in your territory now." He said sadly. He hated being apart as much as I did.
"Will I see you tonight?"
He let go of me and smiled. "Yes."

Isabella sat on her bed and stared out the window. It had been almost three days, but she couldn't stop thinking about Pauline. Something about the whole story didn't add up.
"A penny for your thoughts."
She looked up and saw Leslie leaning casually against the doorframe. He'd his hands clasped in front of his chest. It amazed her how his eyes seemed to reflect the weather.
They were as somber as the darkening sky. The night would be a great disappointment to many wolves who went running. It wasn't out of the question that it would rain in a few hours.
"I can assure you they aren't that expensive."