Raised by Wolves

Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

“TODAY’S A SPECIAL day,” Lacey chirps as she hands us our new backpacks.

I sling the bright-blue pack over my shoulder. “Not so special for us.”

“I think Miss Lacey meant to say ‘scary,’” my brother whispers.

We’d rather face a pack of rabid coyotes than go to Kokanee Creek High School. We’re not ready. We’re not properly trained .

But the chief keeps telling us that we’ll figure it out just fine. And Lacey insists we’re going to love it.

“Say cheese,” she says, waggling her camera at us.

“Why?” Holo asks. “Do you have some?”

Lacey laughs because she thinks he’s joking. He’s not.

“No cheese,” I tell him.

“Really?” he asks. “But that’s confusing.”

I put my arm around my brother. “It’s okay,” I say. “We’ll get you cheese soon.”

“On a burger ,” he says.

“Sure thing.”

We pose on the porch steps, wearing hand-me-down clothes and fake smiles. Holo keeps messing with his hair. Last night Lacey took a pair of kitchen shears to it. It’s shorter than it’s been in ten years.

After Lacey takes about a million pictures, we climb into the chief’s truck. He’s quiet as he drives into town. He looks tired. I wonder if the wolf chorus kept him up last night.

I wonder if he knows they were calling for us.

Or maybe the chief’s quiet because he’s more worried about sending us to school than he wants to admit. When he drops us off, he shakes our hands, which is weird, and he says, “Good luck, you two.”

He must know how badly we need it.

There’s a crowd of Kokanee kids hanging out in front near the flagpole, but Holo and I keep our distance. We don’t want to be seen yet. We’re nervous.

“We don’t have to do this,” Holo reminds me. “We can always run.”

I tighten my backpack straps. “No, we can’t,” I say. “Not yet.”

A school bus pulls up, brakes screeching, and even more high school kids get off. The crowd in front of the school gets bigger. Louder. They call out to one another. Jostle one another. It’s a giant surging herd of humans.

A wolf looks for signs of vulnerability when picking its prey. The newborn elk calf. The lame bull. The yearling deer who stumbles on a rock in a dry riverbed.

I watch the crowd with hunter’s eyes—but for what? Holo and I both know that the only vulnerable animals around here are us.

Wolves who trespass on other wolves’ territory will be attacked.

The goal is to be accepted by the pack.

A bell rings, and the front doors swing open. My heart gives a sickening leap. My brother grabs my hand, and I give his fingers a quick squeeze.

Then I let go and we start walking.

Inside Kokanee Creek High School, kids are shouting, laughing, slamming their lockers. Someone’s playing loud and terrible music. Noise swirls around me. Voices ricochet off my skin.

“He says Michael kissed me, which is bullshit!”

“Yo, Gunner—where’s my twenty?”

“Gedney seriously needs to give us a break.”

“I didn’t study, did you?”

I smell soap and perfume and sweat. Bodies brush against me. Someone steps on my foot. I start breathing too quickly. My hands start to shake. It’s too loud. Too close. Too much for my senses to handle.

“Kai,” Holo says, “are you all right?” He knows I’m not.

“I’m fine,” I insist. “I just have to get to room 112.”

He presses his shoulder tight against mine. Wordless, wolfish reassurance. And then we start walking again, weaving through all the people. We’re doing okay until a grizzly-sized guy in a camo T-shirt steps in front of us, blocking our way.

He says, “Who the hell are you?”

He’s so tall I’ve got to crane my head back to see his face. He’s got tiny blue eyes and a short, fat nose. Blond hair cut close to a pink scalp. Small, mean teeth.

My jaw clenches. Holo starts to growl.

He laughs harshly. “Oh shit, never mind,” he says. “I know who you are. You’re the new freaks .” He takes a menacing step forward. His smell washes over me. Musk. Sour milk. Crotch.

I freeze. I don’t know whether to run or fight. We’re in enemy territory. Holo crouches down and bares his teeth. He looks ready to spring.

Okay , I think. Fight it is.

I’m scanning the giant kid’s body for where to hit first when suddenly there’s a teacher in between us and him. “Mr. Hardy,” she says, all sugary sweet, “your classroom is down that way. I wouldn’t want you to be late again. Would you?”

His pink face gets pinker with rage. Then he turns and lumbers away down the hall, muttering under his breath.

Hardy , I think. That means he’s one of them .

In a normal voice, the teacher says to me, “Are you Kai? I’m Ms. Tillman, your ELA teacher.” She’s kind of old, but her hair’s dyed turquoise. There’s a tattoo of a mountain bluebird on her freckled forearm.

“Yes, I’m Kai,” I say. What’s ELA?

“Come on in,” she says, gesturing to her classroom.

I don’t move. What about my brother? Every cell in my body screams Don’t separate the pack . As if he can hear this silent cry, Holo steps closer to me. His bony elbow pokes my ribs.

“Do you know where your classroom is?” Ms. Tillman asks him.

Holo looks blankly down at his schedule. “No,” he says.

“I think you must be upstairs with Mr. Williams. He teaches the ninth graders.”

“He’s staying with me,” I say.

Ms. Tillman blinks at me in surprise. “Well, I don’t know if that—”

“You should definitely just agree, Ms. Tillman,” says a voice right behind me. “These two get pretty mad when they don’t get what they want. They’ll definitely growl, and I think they might actually bite .”

The voice is low and amused. It’s also familiar.

I turn around, and Waylon Eugene Meloy’s brown-gold eyes lock on mine. He gives me a lazy smile. “Hello, Kai,” he says. “Remember me?”

My cheeks flare hot. My stomach wobbles. I want to turn and run away into the woods. I want to reach out and press my palm against his chest.

Instead I shake my head. “No,” I say. “Can’t say I do.”

Then I grab Holo’s sleeve and pull him toward two empty desks in the back of Ms. Tillman’s classroom.

“Liar!” Waylon calls after me.

Laughing.