THIRTEEN | CIVIL

"Hey," My voice feels rough when I answer my phone fifteen minutes later. After Zane left I locked up the house and went to my room. I'm still laying on my bed/cot, face down and half buried under a sheet. *I think I'm dying*. The ache has manifested into a brutal stabbing behind my breast bone. It makes me think of *Alien*. That one scene where the creature burst out of the chest. *Ugh*.

"*What happened?*" Mom must hear the pain in my voice, her own voice is close to worry. My lips tremble and I burry my face in my pillow. After a second, I take a deep breath and tell her everything. About what really happened when I met Zane and Yuri, about the human friend I made, the effort Yuri and Caly made to help me, the only thing I leave out are the headaches and funky reddening of my vision. When I tell her about Ms. Jin's vision, she probes me about the exact words she's spouted, getting every detail before falling silent. "*Do you want to relocate?*"

"To where?" I laugh dully, pulling the sheet off with a quick, annoyed motion. "West? You know that's not an option." I sigh, letting my free arm fall over my eyes. The room's already dark, but the moon has begun to light the room. I don't want to see anything right now. Don't want to feel.

"*What are you going to do then, Wisty?*" She's leaving it up to me. It's just another reminder that I'm going to be on my own next year. A different pain starts up in my chest an I rub over the spot, though I know it won't make an ounce of difference.

"I don't know. Graduate?" I smile ruefully at the ceiling. "Wait for Ry to show up? Whichever comes first?" Right now I just want to lay here and listen to her voice. *Not* think for once.

"*Just because you have a vision doesn't mean whatever happened is set in stone*." Mom says. "*Use sage or mint to disguise your scent. Wear it, chew it, make tea and drink it, the more the better*." She instructs in her teacher, no-nonsense voice. I nod, though she can't see me. "*As for that boy*," I groan and bury my face again. "*Don't burn your bridges just yet. Bonds are hard to destroy, just rejecting him verbally won't deter it for long.*" That makes me pause.

"So the pain's gonna go away?" It doesn't seem like this ache is going to fade right now. It's pointy and dipped in fatigue-inducing emptiness.

"*Of course, Wisty, nothing last forever.*" Her wisdom sounds so dark this week. I wonder why she's so sad.

"That may be the best thing I've heard all day." I sigh, deciding against asking her if she's okay. Of course she isn't. She's all alone too.

"*Wisty, do you need me to visit?*" She asks slowly. I freeze, going over what I just said and wincing at how it must have sounded.

"No. Yes. I mean," I let out another sigh. "I *want* to see you, but I'm not, like, on my deathbed or something." I admit. "I just...miss you."

"*I miss you, too. I'll come by for Thanksgiving. Maybe meet some of your teachers and ease some of your concerns about the Azure Pack.*" She sounds a little too eager now. I wince. Maybe I shouldn't have told her about Zane. I groan a little and sit up. "*Or not.*" She laughs a little. "*All that aside, Wisty?*"

"Hm?" I fiddle with a stray curl, twisting it in the soft moonlight.

"*I'm glad you've made some friends.*" I drop the hair in surprise. *Did I just hear that right?* "*Rules I made aside, I'm glad you seem to be fitting in better there."
*
"Thanks?" I say slowly, not sure if I should feel offended by the implication of me never fitting in.

"*Seriously, they're right about one thing. We're not meant to be alone.*" Mom says, and I hear the soft tinkle of china in the background. I wonder if she's in a coffee shop right now. Or a bar.

"You're one to talk." I mumble, still listening intently at the soft murmuring of people conversing in the background.

"*Maybe I just realized the choice I made to keep us connected to the Pack isn't worth the strain it's putting on us*." Mom sighs, and again, I hear that soft sound. Maybe ice against the inside of a glass? Or a spoon in a porcelain cup? "*Maybe I'm just thinking about your father and how we met.*"

"You ever going to tell me about him?" I ask after a second. She's quiet for a long time, so long I don't think she's going to answer.

"*Maybe when I come visit, I'll explain everything*."



The rest of the weekend is peaceful. I clean up the greenhouse, scrub the windows until they sparkle. Okay, maybe not *sparkle*, but they're almost transparent now. I split a bit of each plant and transplant what I can into the ground. Mom's recommendation about mint and sage has me on a strict regimen of rubbing sage on my clothes and making peppermint tea to drink throughout the day. Zane stocked all the cabinets and the fridge with fresh and non perishable foods. He got me pots and pans and cutlery... I feel like an ass for Friday, but I don't let myself dwell on it too much.

I stay out of the forest, just shifting in my backyard or lounging in the greenhouse at night. It's enough for now, but I know I'll have to make time every few days to hunt to center myself. By Monday I feel a whole new level of inner-peace. Until someone decides to wreck it.

"Geez, Scarlett, you stink." Yuri teases the second I sit down in Homeroom. I make a face at him, a cross between a sneer and grimace of acknowledgement. Both scents are pungent alone, but together, I know I smell awful. And that's just in this form. Last night I couldn't even get near the house without gagging after staying in the greenhouse.

"Had an epiphany. Decided to try something new." I reply to him. Not a lie. Just not the whole truth... Sort of.

"Yeah, well, peppermint and sage don't smell great together, babe. Just choose one or the other." He wrinkles his nose before turning back to face the front of the room. Zane's sitting beside me, silent as a grave and reading again. Looks like he's almost at the end of the book.

I sit back in my own seat, fishing out a little peppermint candy from the pocket of my jeans before unwrapping the thing and popping it in my mouth. Ms. Lewis begins the class with announcements and leaves the last fifteen minutes for free time. I spend most of that time zoned out, fiddling with the wrapper from the peppermint candy. By the time the bell's rung, I set down the red and white stripped paper crane on the center of my desk and leave without any problems. Just a parting wave from Yuri. And not even a sideways glance from Zane.

True to his word, Zane even leaves me alone in Algebra and American Lit. I catch up on the lessons I'd missed, feeling pretty productive, but oddly hollow. The pain had faded over the last couple of days, the ever-present ache in my chest becoming as normalized as the sting of my scars. I was barely registering it by Sunday night, but seeing and being near Zane again has made both as present as they were the day after the pain had started.

I suck on peppermint candies to distract myself, make sure I pay extra attention on the lesson leading up to lunch. English is normally my favorite subject, but my mind just keeps wandering as I sit there, staring at the board while Mr. Hale lectures over poetry. Iambic pentameter and rhyming schemes just aren't as interesting to me today as they were last night. I thank my lucky stars for the study schedule I'd set up over the weekend.

Even though I'm not hearing a word Mr. Hale says, all I have to do is look at the dry-erase board to know what he's talking about. I'm also extremely relieved I unpacked my clothes and found this hoodie last night. I woke up this morning with my scars looking like angry welts. They're itching like crazy and I'm glad to be wearing this scratchy material to soothe some of that uncomfortableness every time I move. That aside, my throat's been burning too. Like it was scalded by too hot liquid or something.

Maybe I'm getting sick or something? Most Wolven don't get colds - or the flu. But hybrids? I don't ever remember getting sick. The only time I've ever been in the hospital was for a self-inflicted injury. And that I swore to Mom would never happen again.

My uneasiness of that memory makes me start feeling queasy. I turn my wrists up to the light, the dark material of my hoodie just covers the only very straight and deliberate lines beginning at the crease of my wrist and stretch almost to my elbow. They're the only ones that have almost completely healed, just barely visible silver lines that you wouldn't notice unless you were looking for them. Barely even a millimeter thick, but the reminder of the promise I'd made four years ago in Brookfield.

When I finally allow my mind to flow away from the past, I can feel eyes on my skin. I glance over at Zane to see his silvery-grey eyes on my wrists, the darkness in them deeper, almost bottomless. I pull my sleeves up to cover the marks, tugging until my knuckles are only just visible. His jaw works, muscles flexing under the skin as he slowly looks up into my eyes. Not a word is spoken, but I can see the numerous questions in that one look. Why? When?

I decide on giving him a wary smile. It seems to be the right move. His tensed muscle relax ever so slightly and he looks back at Mr. Hale. His reaction is far from normal, but it makes me wonder what he'd think if he ever saw the other scars. I chew on that thought for the rest of class, unsure if the thing between us is really fading or getting stronger. I don't feel that itchy ache under my skin to be nearer to him, but I find myself gravitating closer anyway. We're like magnets now, though we never actually touch.

When the bell rings for lunch, we go our separate ways. Another thing I did this weekend was meal prep. Thanks to the new groceries plaguing my pantry and fridge, I decided to make myself lunches instead of go for human portions. It sort of worked. I go out to the bleachers again with a thermos of soup, pretty much the only thing I really know how to make well. Darine is no where to be seen, but neither are the soccer players.

I enjoy the peace, letting the cool breeze wash over me as I eat.