The alarm went off at five-thirty, and for a few seconds I lay there, staring at the shadowed ceiling, wondering if it was worth moving at all. The mansion was silent except for the faint thump of my mother\u2019s heels somewhere downstairs and the muted murmur of my father\u2019s voice on a call. Even before sunrise, they were already living in a different world than mine.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
By the time I stepped outside, the air had the sharp bite of ocean wind, damp enough to cling to my hoodie. The driver waited in the black SUV at the bottom of the steps, engine idling. He didn\u2019t say anything as I got in \u2014 just pulled away from the house and toward the docks, tires crunching over the crushed-shell driveway.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The streets of Nantucket were still half-asleep. Porch lights burned against the fog, and shop windows reflected only the dim yellow glow of the streetlamps. The docks rose out of the mist, silhouettes of masts swaying gently. A line of commuters stood at the ferry ramp, clutching coffee cups like they were all that kept them alive.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The driver eased to a stop. \u201cSix-thirty ferry,\u201d he said without looking at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah,\u201d I muttered, stepping out into the salt-heavy air. The wolf in me didn\u2019t like the crush of people, but it listened \u2014 alert, watchful. It could feel that pull again, a faint tension under the skin, though I couldn\u2019t place why.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Boarding was slow, the crowd shuffling up the metal ramp. I found a spot near the stern rail, keeping my back to the bulk of the passengers. The engines roared to life, vibrating through the deck as the island slid away into the mist.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The crossing took just under an hour. I spent most of it staring at the horizon, the wolf restless but not hostile, like it was waiting for something it knew I wouldn\u2019t recognize until it happened.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When we docked in Hyannis, I followed the herd of commuters toward the waiting buses. One was marked for Cape Cod Regional Technical High School. I climbed aboard, claiming a seat by the window, watching the mainland roll by \u2014 clapboard houses, diners, stretches of pine forest cut by cracked asphalt roads.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
By the time the bus pulled into the school lot, the sun was trying to burn through the fog, turning the low buildings and shop bays into a haze of pale gold. Students milled around the entrance \u2014 some leaning on cars, some clustered in tight groups, their voices a steady hum.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That\u2019s when I saw him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He was standing near the side door of the main building, a black guitar case slung over one shoulder. Hood up, hands shoved in his pockets, head tilted slightly like he was listening to something only he could hear. He wasn\u2019t talking to anyone, wasn\u2019t part of the clusters of friends \u2014 just there, apart, like the air around him was a little quieter than everywhere else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The wolf in me went still. Not cautious. Not hostile. Just\u2026 focused. I didn\u2019t know his name. Didn\u2019t know where he fit in this place. But I knew one thing: that strange pull I\u2019d been feeling since stepping onto the mainland had just found its source.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The alarm went off at five-thirty, and for a few seconds I lay there, staring at the shadowed ceiling, wondering if it was worth moving at all. The mansion was silent except for the faint thump of my mother\u2019s heels somewhere downstairs and the muted murmur of my father\u2019s voice on a call. Even before […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-11","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-high-school-life"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=11"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":12,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/11\/revisions\/12"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=11"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=11"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=11"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}