The ferry ride back that night had been quiet, the ocean a flat black sheet under a silvered sky. By the time I stepped off at the Nantucket dock, the wind had picked up, carrying the briny tang of low tide. The streets near my parents\u2019 mansion were mostly empty \u2014 tourists long gone, locals behind closed doors.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I was halfway up the crushed-shell drive when a voice cut through the dark.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWell, if it isn\u2019t the freak from Indiana.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I stopped.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
On the edge of the driveway stood Ryan Locke \u2014 one of the neighbor kids from up the hill. Eighteen, maybe nineteen, all gelled hair and designer clothes, the kind of spoiled arrogance that clung like cologne. I\u2019d seen him once or twice before, usually behind the wheel of some imported car his parents had bought to keep him occupied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cEvening,\u201d I said flatly, starting toward the door.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He stepped into my path. \u201cYou\u2019ve been making quite the impression. My mom ran into your mom at a thing the other night\u2026 heard all about the little \u2018behavioral vacation\u2019<\/em> you took back in Indiana.\u201d His smirk widened. \u201cGuess they finally decided to let you out. Brave of them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n I kept walking, close enough now to smell the expensive whiskey on his breath.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ryan tilted his head, studying me like I was a science experiment. \u201cWhat\u2019s the matter? Don\u2019t they let you talk much at the mental hospital?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The wolf surged so fast it made my hands curl into fists before I realized it. My vision narrowed \u2014 him, just him, the pulse beating in his throat, the way his smirk twitched when I stepped in close enough for him to feel the heat rolling off me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cYou really want to keep talking?\u201d I asked, voice low enough to make him lean back a fraction.<\/p>\n\n\n\n His laugh came out thinner now. \u201cWhat, you gonna hit me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n The growl slipped out before I could stop it \u2014 deep, guttural, carrying all the promise of violence in the world. It froze him in place. My muscles coiled, the shift pressing just under my skin, the urge to tear and break so sharp I could taste it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n For one heartbeat, I stood right on the edge. One more insult, one wrong move, and there wouldn\u2019t be enough left of him to identify.<\/p>\n\n\n\n But I stepped back. Slowly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Ryan swallowed hard. \u201cYou\u2019re\u2026 crazy,\u201d he muttered, but his voice shook.<\/p>\n\n\n\n \u201cNo,\u201d I said, letting the last trace of the growl ride my words. \u201cI\u2019m worse.\u201d He didn\u2019t try to block my path again. By the time I reached the door, he was still standing in the driveway, pale in the moonlight, watching me like I was something he\u2019d never seen before and never wanted to see again.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" The ferry ride back that night had been quiet, the ocean a flat black sheet under a silvered sky. By the time I stepped off at the Nantucket dock, the wind had picked up, carrying the briny tang of low tide. The streets near my parents\u2019 mansion were mostly empty \u2014 tourists long gone, locals […]<\/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-27","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-high-school-life"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27","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=27"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":28,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/27\/revisions\/28"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=27"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=27"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/threewerewolves.com\/firstsemester\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=27"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}