Time Mends(12)

Charlie was silent and distant the drive back, which was fine by me. I had no idea what to say to him. The past month changed us. He didn’t even look like the same boy who surprised me on Prom night, having driven four hours just to dance with me. He had lost weight, causing his already sharp features to become severe. Dark bags hung underneath his tired eyes. He even managed to grow a scraggly beard, although it looked more starving artist than crazy homeless man on him. But the worst of it was something not so easy to articulate. It was a loss of something, a spark that was uniquely Charlie. It was the dullness in the eyes that once twinkled, the way his shoulders slumped in defeat.

I lost both of the boys I loved that night.

He continued his look-at-anything-but-Scout routine as he brought the car to a stop in front of my house.

“Thanks for the ride.” A slight bob of the chin was the only indication he heard me.

I started to get out of the car, but stopped with one foot out the door. “Charlie, what is going to happen if they convince Toby that I can’t stay here, that I’m more trouble than I’m worth?”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“But what if it does?”

“Scout, it’s not happening. Now, go inside and talk to your father. He’s about five seconds from coming out here and dragging you out of this car.”

I could hear the conversation between my parents inside and knew he was right. Dad had been informed of the whole Shifter business, but he wasn’t taking it so well.

For that matter, neither was I.





Chapter 5





“This isn’t happening,” Dad said, not for the first time. “It’s just… It’s not possible. People don’t turn into animals. Wounds don’t magically stitch themselves back together.” He balanced on the edge of the old, battered plaid chair Mom had been trying haul off to the dump for the past seven years. He sat with his elbows propped on his knees, his face buried in his hands. From my vantage, I could see a halo of gray hairs scattered generously in his once blond hair. When had that happened?

“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true.” I lifted up the edge of the cover-up to expose my newly-healed stomach. “How else can you explain this?”

Dad gave me the exact same look he gave Jase when my brother tried to explain how a tree jumped in front of him, causing our first car to be totaled. “I think I can come up with something that doesn’t involve werewolves, Scout.”

“A little help?” I tried to appeal to my mother, who sat silently curled up on the couch. After doing a more extensive physical than any of my doctors ever subjected me to, she retreated to her little corner and stayed there. I wasn’t even certain she was listening to my desperate attempts to explain where I had been and what happened to me. I bit back a growl of frustration as she continued to stare at her hands, not even acknowledging the fact I had spoken.

“I have a book,” I finally said, realizing it was the only way he would ever truly accept this whole Shifter business. In many ways, he and I are very much alike. “It explains the science behind Shifters, what happens to their… our bodies during the Change.” Although, it didn’t do the excruciating pain justice.

“There’s a book?” The look Mom shot me made me wish she would go back to not participating in the conversation. “No one ever told me there was a book.”

I sat down on the edge of the coffee table. The fact I was able to get away with it spoke more to my mother’s current mental state than anything else. “It’s really rare. I don’t know if the Hagans even know it exists. The copy I have belonged to Alex’s dad, and—”

“Alex?” Dad’s voice held a dangerous edge. “Alex Cole? That boy…” He took a deep, calming breath. “He was one of these Shifty things?”

Crap. Was I supposed to be keeping that part a secret?

“Shifter, Dad. Alex was a Shifter.”

My father practically shook with rage. “Did he do this to you?” he asked, looking pointedly at my stomach.

“What? Alex?” I wrapped a protective arm around myself out of habit. “No. Alex would never hurt me.” Tears threatened at the mere mention of his name.

“But it was one of them, right?” Dad asked. “It was one of those Shifters who attacked you and made you…” I could see him struggling with how to end that sentence. “Different,” he finally finished.

“I don’t know why I became a Shifter.”

“Who hurt you, Scout? Which one of those bastards attacked you and left you alone to die in the woods?”