"You shouldn't have come here," Jasper says. The stars are reflected in his black eyes.
The shadows of the forest loom large across the clearing.
My body is trembling. My toes are digging into the grass. Where are my shoes?
The scent of cherry blossoms floats by on the breeze.
"Why?!" I call out but I know he won't tell me.
"Why?!" I call again like I called last night and the night before.
Tears brim and fall, freezing in midair and becoming lost in the grass.
"You don't belong here," Jasper says. His head is lowered, his face in shadow.
I try to reach out but he's too far to touch.
I try to walk to him but the faster I step the further away I become.
"Jasper!"
"Go home, Max."
He's grinding his teeth so hard I can hear it.
"Go home."
"No! I came to speak to you. Because we're mates. Because the moon said I should."
"What moon?" he asks, grinning and gesturing above. I look up and there is no moon in the sky. Just stars and darkness.
"That's not possible!"
"We don't belong together, Max. We could never belong together."
"Stop," I say, beginning to sob. "Please, stop."
"I could never want you."
I cry out in pain, clutching my shoulder where the rogue bit me. It's like I'm being bitten all over again. I pull my hand away and look down at the blood dripping from my fingers.
"Why are you doing this?!"
"Because you don't belong here–" ∆∆∆ I gasp and my eyes shoot open. I throw back my covers to try and cool my burning, sweat-slick skin, taking deep breaths to try and calm myself.
It takes a second until my heart stops racing.
Again? I think, huffing and flopping my head back against the pillow.
"Every damn night," I mutter to the ceiling.
It's been four weeks since the festival and every single night I've had the same dream. Jasper, the clearing, the rogue bite. All of it, on repeat, for four weeks.
Why can't I just forget?
I've been doing my best to keep my mind off Jasper. Not that that's been an easy task.
I bought a new sketchbook but it's still sitting empty on my desk with the rest of the junk I toss there.
I've thought about drawing. But whenever I go to begin something new, nothing comes, no inspiration. Just images of him.
Katie's been somewhat occupied with her new mate so it's not like we've been hanging out.
And Netflix just isn't hitting the same way.
Still, I manage to get through the days. Summer vacation is nearly over so I've been getting organized to go back to school. Picking classes and buying stationary.
I've gotten really into mixing breakfast cereals, trying to find the optimum combination.
Some days I don't even think about him––not really.
But then night comes and I'm right back in that dumb clearing. And there he is… I can't escape him. He's like a dream ninja, always sneaking around in the dark recesses of my subconscious until I'm asleep, and then, bam! He pounces.
I fumble around on my bedside table looking for my phone and knock over a half-empty glass of water in the process.
"Damn." I sit up and look around but I can't see my phone anywhere. I grab the pair of jeans I was wearing yesterday from where I left them in a pile on the floor––dipping into the pockets and pulling out my cell.
I squint at the time and groan––it's not even 4 yet. I fall back onto my squeaky mattress and something catches my attention. A scrap of paper sticking out from the pocket of my jeans.
I stretch out to grab it and open it up. It's Aisha's number.
I'd almost forgotten she'd given it to me. I'm not proud to say I've ignored it since I got home. Not because I don't want to be her friend. But I know seeing her would just be another reminder of him.
Staring at the number in the darkness, I start wondering if a reminder is exactly what I need.
I haven't told anyone about what happened during the Mating Run, so as far as I know, Aisha is the only person who knows the truth.
Maybe if I can just talk about it I can stop dwelling on it. Stop holding on to it.
Even though it's not light out yet I start typing a message.
"I'm glad you texted me," Aisha says, holding out her frappuccino to bump against mine. "Even if you did wake me up."
We're sitting in Bryant Park just a hop away from the Public Library, where we met. The grass is dotted with office workers, scoffing down salads on their lunch break, and groups of tourists taking selfies.
"Yeah, sorry about that." I rub the back of my neck. "The thing is, I thought I Iost your number and I found it this morning and I guess I got carried away."
"Why were you looking for it at four in the morning?" she asks, grinning.
"I was...cleaning!"
"Cleaning? At four in the morning?"
"I'm an early riser."
I sip on my straw, hoping she's bought my lie.
"Right…" She totally hasn't. "So, how have you been, dude?
Honestly."
I sigh and pull a tuft of grass out of the soil then toss it into the wind.
Over by the roadside two guys are playing ping-pong. They look well practiced because the game is intense, a steady rally that doesn't look like it's going to end any time soon.
"Max," Aisha says, pulling my attention back to her. "What are you thinking?"
I take a breath and fiddle with my shoelace.
"I guess I'm just pissed. I'm pissed because we're wolves so we have to go to that stupid festival and we have to have mates."
I take a breath and swallow and keep going.
"And I'm angry at fate or the Moon Gods or whoever for doing this to me and I'm angry because I have no one I can just talk to about all of this."
I'm starting to get worked up and my throat is constricting like I'm about to cry.
"Mostly, I'm just angry at myself."
Aisha reaches out and wraps a hand around my ankle.
"Why are you angry at yourself? None of this is your fault."
"Because I was always so certain that I wasn't like other wolves. I was different. But now I'm just as mate-sick as everyone else. Only the cruel twist is that my mate wants nothing to do with me."
I wipe a single tear from my cheek with the back of my hand. Aisha sits for a second without saying anything, just thinking.
"You should be angry," she says, finally. "But you shouldn't be angry at yourself for having feelings that are completely natural. The only person you should be angry at is Jasper. I know I am."
My mouth pops open. I never thought Aisha would be so openly hostile toward him. She's actually pissed though, which makes me giggle.
"I know he has a lot going on and I know his dad is constantly on his back about stuff. But that's no excuse for acting this way," she continues. "Not when it can only cause pain to you and him."
"You think he's in pain too?"
"I can't say for sure. He hasn't spoken to me since the festival either."
"Oh, sorry." I feel kind of guilty, like I might have something to do with Jasper ignoring Aisha.
She shrugs. "I know him pretty well and I know when he's going through something his first instinct isn't to reach out. So that's how I know he's hurting because if he wasn't...I'd have heard from him. Unlike you, he doesn't want to talk about it."
"Aisha, I never wanted to…" "It's no biggie, dude. I know he'll reach out when he's ready, don't sweat it."
"How can you be so chill about it?"
"Oh I'm still gonna be angry," she says, tilting her head sassily.
"He's gonna get it from me when he finally returns my texts, don't you worry."
I laugh and smile for what feels like the first time in over a month.
But that easy feeling only lasts a second.
"And hey," Aisha says. "I gave you my number for a reason. If you ever need to speak with someone I'm here and this…," she wiggles her fingers around herself like she's doing a spell, "...is a place of acceptance."
I giggle again.
"Thanks," I say.
"If it isn't the sexiest she-wolf since Shakira!" I look up to see who's interrupted us and spot a guy with a bald head and a wide smile walking in our direction.
"Hey baby," he says, plopping down next to us and kissing Aisha on the cheek.
"Hey babe," Aisha replies before catching my mystified expression.
"Max, this is my boyfriend, Troy."
"Nice to meet you, bud!"
Troy sticks out a hand, grinning from ear to ear. I can't help but smile back as I return the gesture. He shakes my hand until I think my wrist might be broken.
"What are you cool cats chatting about? Is it secret wolf business?"
My mouth drops open. When Aisha told me she had a human boyfriend I never guessed she would have told him the truth about what she is.
"Nah, we were just bitching about people with bad manners." Aisha winks at me.
"Some people," Troy says, shaking his head fervently, agreeing with us even though he has no idea what we were actually talking about.
"How was class?" Aisha asks.
"Man, it was major. Our professor is mad-smart and he was telling us all about intercellular communication."
"Wow," Aisha says, smiling and rolling her eyes.
"Think about it though! All our cells are like talking to each other."
I make my eyes wide and nod along but actually, I have no idea what Troy is talking about.
"I can only imagine what your cells would be like," he continues.
"Like do your human cells talk to your wolf cells? How do they communicate? Now that's major!"
Aisha laughs and shakes her head before shrugging at me.
"Man, I'm starving, you hungry, babe?" Troy asks Aisha.
"I could eat," she says. "Max, you want to come back to ours for a bit."
"Yeah, if that's ok."
"Of course, man!" Troy says, hopping up excitedly. "It's Major!"
We jump on the nearest subway and head out to Brooklyn. Aisha and Troy live in an apartment in Bushwick. Their building doesn't have an elevator so we climb the five stories to their floor.
Behind the rust-colored door is the coolest loft apartment I've ever seen. It feels like the set from some sitcom. Exposed brick on the walls and the polished cement floor give the place an industrial vibe, but everywhere rugs and tasseled cushions and blankets are thrown about softening the vibe and making everything seem comfortable. A couple of house plants dotted about the place bring in some life.
"Make yourself at home, Max," Aisha says, dropping her jacket next to the couch and flopping down.
I find a bean bag opposite her and collapse back into it.
"You guys in the mood for ramen?" Troy asks.
"That sounds amazing," Aisha says. "Troy makes amazing ramen."
"Awesome."
I hang out with Aisha and Troy for the rest of the afternoon. They're so laid back and cool and they're constantly finishing each other's sentences. They sit next to each other with a leg or an arm draped over each other in a way that says 'you're my person,' without being clingy or annoying. Troy's excited-puppy-vibes are offset by Aisha's chillness.
They're nothing like the wolf couples back at the festival.
We put on music and I watch Troy play Animal Crossing while listening to Aisha tell stories about the crazy girls from her ballet school.
For a second I even forget to be angry or sad.
"Whoa, when did it become night?" I ask, staring out the window, surprised to see stars. "I should get home or my parents will get weird."
I grab my bag and zip up my new hoodie.
"Sick to meet you, man," Troy says, holding up a fist for me to bump. "It's been major."
Aisha stands and walks me to the door.
"Thanks for having me, I think this is just what I needed."
"Good," she says and pulls me into a tight hug. "Call me or text anytime you want. If you need to talk or anything. Okay?"
"Thank you."
"Get home safe, dude."
I leave Aisha's apartment and head down the stairs. If my parents didn't hate me staying out past dark I don't think I would have ever wanted to leave. Maybe Aisha and Troy might want to adopt me.
Outside, the streetlights have come on and I notice a few fallen leaves on the sidewalk. Summer is coming to an end. I pull out my headphones and am just about to turn on some music when I hear Aisha's voice.
"Hey Max!" she calls, leaning out her window. "Check your phone!"
I grab my cell. Aisha's sent me a text, forwarding one of her contacts. I open the message and my heart stops.
Jasper Apollo She's sent me Jasper's phone number.
I stare up at her in shock.
"Don't expect too much, but I thought you should have it!"
"I…" I don't know what to say.
"Look out for yourself, Max."
Aisha disappears back in her window as a breeze begins to blow, kicking up the newly fallen leaves and whirling them around.
The entire train journey home all I can do is gawk at my phone. At his number. This whole time I thought there was no way of contacting him.
I was sure he would have asked Aisha not to give me his number. But now I have a direct line to him.
Only, I have no idea if I should use it. He's made it pretty clear he doesn't want anything to do with me.
But did he? He kissed me.
He. Kissed. Me.
Sure, it was a mean bitter kiss, full of spite. But there's a reason he ran from me that night in the clearing. He feels this too.
What would he say if I texted him all of a sudden? Would he ignore it? Tell me not to message him again? Maybe we'd start chatting and realize we have more in common than we think.
As the train hurtles along the track, stopping at each station to let passengers off and on, I keep my head down. I press my lips together and scrunch my brows.
I start to type...