Werewolf - Chapter One

by ~Tisketh24

Chapter One
Eight Years Later

It was pretty much your average, boring Thursday afternoon at school.  I was sat in my English Literature class, one of quite a few that I’d been fast tracked in so whilst I’m only sixteen I’m working at a senior level – it should be college level but my school is stubborn.  Anyway the teacher was telling us about J. D. Salinger’s The Catcher In The Rye and I’d drifted off and was looking out of the window at the late autumn leaves that covered the ground.
As I looked I saw a grey squirrel dash across the lawn at the back of school towards a large tree that stood prominently in the middle of the lawn.  As it ran I could hear it scurrying even at this distance with one of the windows open, though I knew no one else in the room had even seen the little guy let alone heard him.  I sighed to myself because on a gorgeously sunny day like today I just wanted to be out running though this obviously was not an acceptable thing for a sixteen year old boy to do during school days.
“Max.”  I looked up at the teacher and became aware of the whole class looking at me.  Some of the senior guys were sniggering and not even trying to hide it, they all hated me for some reason.  I took the teachers tone to mean he had already tried to get my attention unsuccessfully.  “Are we boring you?”  Apparently I had sighed much too loudly.
“Uh – no Mr. Stephens.”
“Then perhaps you would like to explain to the class one of these four literary tools and give an example of how J. D. Salinger utilises it in his work?”  Mr. Stephens was in his early thirties but by the way he acted you would think he was twice that.  He wore a suit and tie, compulsory for any male educator.  His hair was some stupid floppy mop like those male leads always have in romantic comedy movies.  I shook my head slightly and did my best impression of meek – even if I knew that I could rip his arm off without breaking a sweat.  Okay that’s not true but I could kick his ass without breaking a sweat.
The victorious smirk on his face would have made me cringe but I’ve seen it before.  Mr. Stephens was one of those teachers who didn’t like his students to be better than him in anyway.  To him he was the educator he knows all, I was there to learn as was everyone else.  This was all made worse by the fact that I could probably have done as he asked but I wasn’t in the mood for a confrontation.  Luckily not all teachers are like him.
“As I thought, perhaps next time you’ll pay more attention.”  Mr. Stephens carried on with his lesson, as boring as it was, and though I still wasn’t really paying attention I made sure that it at least seemed like I was at all times.  

After school I walked home, it was the closest I was going to get to a run anytime soon and it seriously didn’t even compare.  There was a chill in the air but that was to be expected for the time of year.  That considered I got my jacket from my bag anyway and pulled it on.
Walking the streets I heard things that, though I was privy to these things on a regular basis, I knew no one else could hear.  An argument between father and son about colleges.  Some guy mumbling about how he thought his wife was having an affair.  I passed one house and lets just say the occupants were a little busy with each other, and she was either really enjoying it or was in a lot of pain.
I neared home and could smell fresh bread and a pie, blackberry if I was right.  Which I knew I was. It smelled delicious.  By the time I walked in the front door it was 4.35pm a little later than I was usually home.  I dropped my bag by the door and went through into the kitchen where the smell of the bread and pie was so intense that I’m pretty sure I started drooling, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.
“Ah, afternoon Max.  Home at last, your brother has been calling.”  Linda stood behind the island counter preparing what appeared to be a green salad.  Now don’t get me wrong I’m sure a salad can be delicious but for people… like me, meals tend to need meat.  Of course Linda didn’t know that.
Linda Carlyle was kind of a live in cook-come-maid but at the same time she was more.  A stocky woman in her later-middle years she had the look of someone who was stunning once, but now she had wrinkles and grey hair.  She always had a warm smile and I knew she thought of me as some kind of surrogate son because she had no family except for an older sister who from what I gather isn’t long for this world.  Her husband died about 12 years ago and her son about 3 years ago over in Iraq so I had become her family.  That’s actually when she moved in full time though she had been taking care of the cooking and cleaning since before then.  Problem was she didn’t know everything about me and that’s how it had to stay as bad as lying to her felt.
“I told him I’d get you to call him back as soon as you got in.”
“I’ll call him later.”
“Uh – as soon as you got in.”  She repeated.  “He worries about you.  Besides you’d be making me a liar if you didn’t…” See what I mean about the surrogate son stuff, a guilt trip like that means business.  If you could see her face you’d know what I mean.  Innocent and upset at the thought of being made into a liar.
“Ok – ok, I’ll go call him now.”
She grinned triumphantly though it held none of the malice or self-satisfaction that Mr. Stephens had had earlier, hers was a motherly grin even then.  On the wall beside the refrigerator was a cordless telephone, which I picked up and carried through into the living room.  I dropped down onto the enormous cushions of the sofa and began to dial the number; I’d called it enough to know it off-by-heart.  Hopefully my brother would be waiting for my call, if one of the others picked up it’d take me long enough to talk them off the phone let alone talk with my over-bearing brother as well – he’s not that bad really.
I heard the ringing tone and then someone picked up.  “Max?”  It was a familiar male voice but it sounded urgent.
“Hey Nate, it’s me.  Linda said I had to…”
“Where the hell were you?”  He demanded.  “You know when I call.”
“I walked home through the park, geez, what’s the big deal?  I’m 16 years old and it’s only four forty.”
I heard Nate sigh down the phone.  “Sorry, sorry, I know okay I know.  I was just worried is all.  We’ve got a bit of a crisis here.”
“A crisis?  What’s going on?”
“Nothing you should worry about.”  Nate said bluntly.  “Now, how was school squirt?  You keeping out of trouble?”
“Meh, it’s boring as usual.  Much rather be with you guys.  Which by the way I wanted to ask about.  D’you think maybe I could come stay with you guys this weekend?”  I asked.
“No.”  He replied immediately.
“But why?”
“Aren’t you meant to be here next weekend?  Besides I bet you have homework to do right?”
“…no.  I don’t have any homework.”  I really shouldn’t have hesitated.  It was a dead give away that I was lying.
“Hmmm.  Wonder why I don’t believe you.”  He chuckled down the phone at me.
“Hey it’s not up to you.  Go get Leon.  I bet he’ll say yes.”  I knew he wouldn’t go get Leon, this was just my way of annoying my big brother, which I enjoy doing oh so much.
“You think going to the Pack Alpha will over rule what I say?  Remember squirt Leon said I was in charge when it came to you.”  As much as I enjoyed annoying Nate he enjoyed reminding me of the fact he’d been ‘put in charge’ of my well being not just by law, since he was my legal guardian, but by the Pack Alpha (our adoptive father) as well.  
“Yeah I know.  Was worth a try though.”  I heard Nate laugh again.
“Tell you what,” he started, “make sure your home work’s in on time and stay out of trouble and maybe I’ll come pick you up early next weekend.  Might even get you out of school Friday; get you here REAL early.  How’s that sound?”
“It’d sound better if it were getting me out of school tomorrow.  I really think I need a run…”
“Yeah I know what you mean kiddo.  And under other circumstances I’d be there right now – trust me.”  He went quiet for a while before continuing.  “But… well I just can’t this weekend, okay?”  I sighed, I do that a lot but you’ll get used to it.  “Okay?”  Nate repeated.
“Yeah, okay.”  I caved way too easily; I knew I had.  Normally I would have tried arguing him into submission.  Some how making him promise to come and get me or something but I don’t know why but something seemed off.  How he was talking and this crisis he had mentioned and stuff.  So I thought I’d give him a break… this time.   
“Don’t worry squirt.  I’ll make it up to you.  So what did you do at school today?”
Whilst I regaled my brother with the exciting tales of my day at school and also having our usual bout of banter about how most big brothers were not normally inclined to ask ‘what did you do at school today?’  I allowed my mind to wonder to next weekend when I could finally Change and run freely through the acres of private land around Dawn Croft, the place where the Pack resided or for those who lived away where they met every weekend.  Maybe I’d even be able to go on a hunt with the others.  It’d been less than two weeks since I changed and already the compulsion, the urge to do it again was growing.  Leon said this was normal for those of us who lived in towns and cities, because we didn’t have the choice to change whenever we wanted, and as such we wanted to do it all the more often.  Though for some reason this had not helped my argument of being allowed to move into Dawn Croft full time.  Nate AND Leon had both been set from the beginning that I would grow up as others did and have a proper education – though I’m way smarter than most of the people I’m at school with (and oh so modest).  Maybe it’s something to do with being a werewolf?  I don’t know.  
Apparently, though, if I chose to at the time I could move into Dawn Croft after college though they hoped I’d go on and get a PhD or something.  That’s the way to put pressure on a kid.
“Are you listening?”
Apparently I had drifted too much.
“Max.  Are you listening to me at all?”
“Umm – yes.”  I lied.
“You absolutely suck at lying, you know that.”  He told me in a mockingly exasperated tone before repeating himself.  “I said, I gotta go, but I’ll call you tomorrow okay?”
“Sure.”  I replied with a nod despite the fact that he couldn’t see me.
“And no dawdling on your way home, alright?  Or I’ll send one of the guys round to rough you up.  You got it?”
“Got it.”  I nodded again.
“Good.  And Max…” He hesitated for some reason, “…be careful.”
“Always.”
“Hmm.”  He grunted with a mixture of amusement and disbelief.  “Later squirt.”
“Later... butthead.”
“Butthead?  Really?  That has to be the lamest attempt at getting me back for calling you squirt ever.  I’m disappointed, really I am.”
I said something else a little less lame and more... expletive which just made him laugh and with that the call was over.  I hung up and let the phone drop into my lap.  What had he meant Be Careful?  I couldn’t think why he’d say that.  Well that’s not true.  He’s always told me to be careful but it was more worried than usual – till then I hadn’t thought it possible.  This crisis, whatever it might be, must be bad for him to get like that.  More worrying was the idea of ‘what could make a werewolf be so worried?’  There are things worse than Werewolves but they really don’t bear thinking about.