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"Ed?!"

Everyone's eyes were on me. You couldn't get to our secret place without being heard, so I knew that the Pack would have heard my approach. Stu was turned around in his seat with a giddy smile so wide that I could see how far back his braces went. James' body was still turned away from me on the stump he used as a chair, but his head was turned around and I could see a twinkling smile.

Bess wasn't smiling, though. Her lips were pursed, and I saw the same fire in her eyes as when I'd left, all those months ago. I wrapped my arms around Stu when he leaped at me and hugged him, followed by James' much more stoic punch to the shoulder.

"When'd you get back? I thought you were gone forever!" Stu exclaimed, his high-pitched voice growing in pitch along with his excitement that I'd returned. He laid his head on my shoulder, becoming a burden as I ducked my way into our little hidey-hole.

Some years past, lightning had struck a tree in our woods, out past the little creek where the beavers made their dam. It'd been a massive tree, and its falling had actually made local news. In the now hollowed-out rim of its old trunk was our secret place. It was wide enough for the four of us to hold our little court, with two plastic chairs, a bit of the remaining stump that James claimed as his, and a clean hollow of ground where Bess liked to sit.

I guess it wasn't completely a secret. My parents--my dad--knew where it was, as presumably the rest of the Pack's parents did as well. However, there was an unspoken agreement among all parties involved, as long as we mostly stayed there, our parents mostly wouldn't come out and act like they knew where we were unless it was an emergency. That was secret enough for us.

Much as Bess was frowning at me, though, they hadn't moved my chair. I tipped it out to let all of last night's dew run out so my butt wouldn't get wet. I sat, dislodging Stu back to his own chair. "Mom dropped me off last night. I'm back for the summer, at least." Unspoken was that I might need to leave again. Dad said it was for the courts to decide. I saw the hurt in his face, so I didn't ask any more.

"Huh." Bess said. The wild curls of her hair swayed as she looked away. Stu had started chattering again, telling us all about a frog he found down near the river that we had to go look for again because it was huge. James was zoned out like he normally was. My eyes were on Bess. Was she still angry? Some things had been said before I left that I really regretted, but I didn't know how to say I was sorry, especially with Stu still yapping next to me.

"Bess?" I asked.

"I guess you want a welcome back, then?" She scowled at me.

"It'd be nice." I scowled back.

I stared at her, and she stared back. She had piercing blue eyes that were disquietingly steady, but I wasn't going to let her win.

And that's how it'd started, ten months back, wasn't it? She hadn't taken the news that I was moving away well. As if it was my choice. Mom was taking me with her, and I was going whether I wanted to or not. Bess had started to cry, but when I tried to tell her I'd be back, she hit me. It wasn't a real punch--not like I'd seen some of the boys in school hit each other with, but it'd hurt. So I told her that I was glad I was going, if she was going to be like that. I'd stared at her, waiting for her to apologize. And she'd glared at me between tears, waiting for me to say I didn't mean it. I didn't, of course, and she was sorry, but because neither of us would back down, everything went unsaid. And unsaid is unfelt, and unfelt festers. So she said I was out of the pack if I left. And then I left.

So now she stared at me, and I stared back, neither of us willing to back down.

To my left, James spoke up. He didn't talk much, so we all tended to listen when he said something. "Good. We needed another person for a War. Two on one sucks."

Without breaking her gaze, Bess finally smiled. "Okay, you get your 'Welcome back' if you earn it!" Then her gaze dropped, ceding me the win for this afternoon. She fished a quarter out of one of her jeans pockets and flipped it.

While in the air, Stu called it. "Tails!"

She caught and flipped it. Heads it was. That meant it was Stu and me, and we were on the defense tonight. With an excited squeal and claiming 'The cannon', Stu dashed out of our secret spot first, followed sedately by James. Which left Bess and me alone.

"I..." I started.

"No, I..." She stumbled, then looked away.

I reached out, and she caught my hand in hers. Cream skin against her chocolate. A smile spread across her face, and her teeth stood out bright against her dark skin. "I'm sorry I hit you."

"I didn't mean it. School sucked without you. And them." I nodded out the sun-filled gap in the hollow tree trunk.

"Yeah." Bess stood and pulled me to my feet with her. "I had Mrs. Jenkins this year. It was horrible."

"Cat lady?" I asked. We stepped out into the forest undergrowth. Bess scowled again and nodded. James pushed a Nerf pistol into her hands, while Stu handed me the old beat-up rifle that only had three foam bolts.

"The Sand Pit is yours!" Bess pronounced, then threw me the flag. It was an old t-shirt with a picture of a unicorn on it. It'd been Stu's, but he'd outgrown it years ago. It was his favorite, though, so his mom had sown it into a miniature blanket, and that blanket had become our flag.

I grabbed it, raised it over my head, and shouted. "The Pit won't fall this day!"

"One, two..." James started counting, and Stu and I were off.

-

Six in the evening and my phone was buzzing. The Pit had been defended, then lost. Then Stu had wanted to attack the tree fort, so we decamped and moved back to the deep forest, followed by a raid on the old Station--a disused electric substation with all of its wiring stripped. I don't think Dad knew that we played there. He'd probably stop us if he'd known, so it was important that he didn't find out.

The buzzing phone was a reminder that it was going to be getting dark soon that Dad had set. When it started buzzing, that meant I had only an hour left before I had to be home.

"Buzz! We going back to the Pack?" I asked. Another nerf dart sailed over my head, but when the truce of Almost Dinner Time had been called, the rest of hostilities ceased. James chased after his spent ammunition. The game was over.

"We are. You're not." This time, Bess looked serious.

"But I--" I started.

She shook her head. "Not part of the pack anymore, remember?"

"I said I didn't mean it."

"Yeah." She ducked her head, but didn't apologize. Stu climbed down from where he'd been crouching on top of a fence, and James followed after. They watched her, and me. They were taking her lead. "Tomorrow, okay?"

Dejected, I nodded. She was right. I wasn't part of it anymore. I'd left. And in a few months, I might have to leave again. Stu gave me a hug goodnight, which I returned, then the three of them disappeared into the forest. I knew where they'd be, but I had to play be the rules. If they meant anything, then rules had to be followed, and right now, the secret place was a secret to me, too.

"Everything okay, Beans?" Dad asked. That was his name for me. When he'd first tried to teach me how to throw a softball, my very first throw had hit him in the crotch. Mom was watching, so instead of saying something really rude, he just said I hit him right in the beans. Mom had laughed, and the name had stuck.

I nodded into my Franks 'n Cheese. It was one of his favorite to cook, maybe because it was easy and everything he needed came in pre-packed boxes and cans. I think he could tell something was wrong, but he let it go. "Tomorrow I need you to be on your best behavior, okay?"

"If I am, will I have to go back at the end of the summer?" I asked.

Dad looked away and gave an expressive shrug. "I don't know, Beans. That depends on what Mr. Liebowitz can get the court to agree to."

"I wanna stay."

"I want you to stay too." Dad sighed, but put on a smile for me. I could tell it was fake. His eyes weren't smiling. But I could tell he was trying, so I let him think it worked.

We were up early in the morning, just in time to catch rush hour on the way to the court. Dad was sweaty and frustrated by the time we made it there, so he hit the bathroom and left me in the hallway to catch Mr. Liebowitz if he went past. I didn't like him, because he didn't talk to me like a human being. I could see that he talked weird, even to my dad, but when he bent down to talk to me, he used only words that were two syllables or fewer. (We'd learned about Syllables this last year in school, so I knew I was being con-des-cend-ed to.)

Luckily, Dad was out of the bathroom by the time Mr. Liebowitz showed up to greet us. We spent an hour waiting in lines in the front area. I sat on the ground. A security guard looked like she was going to tell me to stand, thought better of it, then turned away as if she hadn't seen me. When we finally made it inside, the court was stuffy. Even though I was tired and bored, I was determined to be good. If it was going to make it easier for Dad, I could be good for today.

I fell asleep, and only woke back up when Dad touched my shoulder and said it was our turn. I looked over, and Mom was there. She didn't have a smile for Dad, but she had one for me. I was happy to see her, but... With mom, it was never that simple. She could be a wonderful Mom, but sometimes, when we were alone it was like she was someone else. We were out in public, so she was all smiles. I'm glad Dad was here, and that I didn't have to go home with her today.

Mom had her own lawyer, Mrs. Siebel. I liked her more than Mr. Liebowitz, but I hope she lost anyway. Maybe she'd fart, and the judge would throw her out of the court. That thought carried me through the session. I didn't listen. None of it made any sense to me, anyway.

On the drive home, Dad asked me if I was okay seeing a 'friend of his', and that it'd help with the court. I said of course I was, and he looked satisfied with that. I didn't ask if anything had been decided. Nothing had ever been decided, and this was court session number eighty-three-thousand, five-hundred-and-six. I'd counted, though I might have gotten a bit lost after number ten. We'd learned about bigger numbers this last year, though, so I figured by the time school started I'd be counting in the millions.

It was dark by the time we got home. I asked dad if he'd read me one of my stories, so he did. It was about a cat who went fishing on the moon. It didn't have any dogs. Nothing dog-related was allowed in the house--not since It had happened. Not since we'd become the Pack.

-

I dreamed about the smell of water, and the touch of pine needles. Something tasted wonderful, though it stuck to my mouth. I could see, but it was just secondary to what I could smell. It's like the whole world's history was there for me to experience. I didn't see a rabbit, but I knew it'd come through this little patch of forest recently.

It was a familiar dream. It was a comforting dream. It was cold at night, but I was warm, and the Pack was there with me. I was free. I was alive. I was loved.

When I woke I felt horrible. Everything ached a bit, especially the scar on my cheek. I went to the bathroom to look in the mirror, but no, it wasn't bleeding, or crawling under my skin, or even very red. It was just my scar--five skinny little lines over my cheek bone. I rubbed it with the back of my hand, and by the time I pulled my wrist away, it'd stopped hurting.

Dad did everything he could not to draw attention to my scar. Neither did Mom, except when she was being horrible, and she told me that no one would ever find me pretty because my cheek was all torn up. That hurt--even more than my scar had hurt--but I knew she was wrong. All four of us in the Pack had one, since we'd all been There when it happened. Mine was on my cheek. Stu's was on his wrist. James' was on his calf, because he hadn't been wearing his jeans that day. Bess' was on the back of her shoulder. We showed them off once in a while to each other, and I thought hers was the neatest. Unlike the other three of us with light skin so the scar just looked mottled and a little darker, Bess' was lighter than her dark skin, so looked like a pretzel on the back of her shoulder.

When I'd said what it looked like, she'd hit me. Then Stu had headbutted her. It turned into playing Dinosaurs for a while, before we were all too tired to keep playing and I felt bruised. I'd told Bess that I didn't mean it, but she said that pretzels were tasty, so she clearly had the best scar. I couldn't disagree.

By the time I finished breakfast (Dad had toasted waffles from a box in the freezer) the sun was high in the sky, and I had a whole day with the Pack ahead of me. Stu and James were already at our secret spot when I arrived, and Bess was only a few minutes after.

We played Monkeys in the old oak, with its lower branches so worn by our constant climbing that we'd long since stopped getting splinters from it. I was the first one to get knocked out of the tree this time, so I sat in the gnarled roots while the other three hung from the lowest branch and tried to wrap their legs around each other until someone else lost their grip.

When Bess had been crowned King Monkey, she declared that Kings could be girls too, and we all agreed with her, because she was the King Monkey. Then James checked his phone, and announced that his mom was making Rubens (a weird sandwich with too many ingredients to count that, when all put together, was almost as flat as the plate, and tasted like toasted heaven with cheese and savory sauce.) King Bess decreed that she should be carried on our shoulders, because the King doesn't walk. We took turns letting her ride on our backs while we took the long way.

We never took the short way to James' house. That would have taken us past the old trail crossroads near the orchard, and that's where It had happened. Even though the scars were neat now, none of us really wanted to think back to what'd given them to us. So we avoided it, always. By this point, it probably looked different than it did in my head. I just remember the rocks all lined up in a row, with moss growing up their sides but with clean and smooth tops. I remember how they felt to sit on, warm from the sunlight and so flat they almost felt padded. Then I remembered the sun low in the sky, and a moon crawling across the tips of the trees, dim in the evening light. I was supposed to be home, but we'd been playing Spacewomen versus Aliens, and we'd been too tired to run home--so we were just resting for a few minutes on the stones that held the day's heat so well when--

Yellow eyes and yellow teeth.

My mind skated off the memory like water on a hot skillet.

Lunch was a casual affair in James' back yard, where we had sandwiches that were dripping with sauce. I excused myself to use the bathroom, and when I returned I heard a conversation through the screen door. I didn't mean to listen in--but when I heard my name in the distance I found the door was stuck and I couldn't open it just yet--or so I justified in my head.

"Come on, we gotta bring her with us. It'll be just like last year, before--" Stu was saying.

Bess cut in. "Before she left the pack."

"Only you said that. And anyway, it's not like she wanted to go."

"But she went anyway." Bess was stubborn. Always had been. I bit my lip, hand still on the handle of the screen door.

"Doesn't matter." James piped up thoughtfully. "She'd tell us if she'd changed. And she hasn't. It's not safe. She can't come with us."

Somehow I'd thought James was on my side, but apparently I'd been mistaken. I opened the door and shut it hard.

"I gotta go home." I mumbled. Or, more accurately, I didn't want to stay here. Not when it was two-to one against me coming with them.

Bess' eyes narrowed, but she didn't stop me as I gathered my phone from the swing where I'd been eating lunch. Stu complained, but I ignored him on my way out. I felt hot and angry. My scar was twitching under my cheek.

"Catch us this afternoon?" James asked.

"Probably not. You got secret Pack things to do." I replied sourly, then ran home.

I was out of breath by the time I arrived. I let the door slam behind me and trotted up to my room. I expected dad to stick his head in any moment, but he didn't. I felt robbed. The only thing that would validate my self-inflicted solitary depression is making sure that everyone around me knew how sad I was, but it seemed that even that was too much for people to recognize. Within five minutes, I felt the need to go let Dad know that I was upset but didn't need his attention.

I found him in his study, with the door closed to all but a crack. I was about to push it open, when I heard a stifled noise from inside. It cut through my justified frump, and instead of interrupting, I put my eye to the crack in the door.

Dad was at his desk. In his hand was a piece of paper--tri-folded like a letter. He was still holding the envelope. I recognized the symbol on it--a wierd dangly-thingy that Mom said was a scale (though it didn't look like any scale we'd ever had at home.) My mom's divorce lawyer, Mrs. Siebel's, practice used it as their seal. Dad was doing his best not to cry, but I could see his face contorting every few seconds. He turned to the side and blew his nose into a kleenex.

I returned to my room, now doubly deprived of my validation. But the fire of my anger had died. I was still upset at Bess, but at least we were still friends--mostly. Not like Mom and Dad who were... Well, not.

-

It was two years ago, and I was sitting on a rock catching my breath. I knew I'd get into a little trouble for being late, but Mom and Dad didn't seem to be paying much attention to me this summer. Anyway, the games had been so fun that Bess and Stu were still laughing about that time when James had tried to roar like an alien but lost his hold on the branch and fell out of the tree he'd been in and let out a squeak instead. I was only half-listening. There was a whole half of the summer still left, and the four of us were inseparable. In the warmth of the stones at dusk, I closed my eyes and just enjoyed being with my friends.

Then Stu shouted off to the side. "Hey! Come look! I think there's a dog in the house."

The stones we sat on were an old wall around the foundations of a house that was built back in who-knows-when, and was barely more than an empty shell of badly-rotted timbers now. I turned around and followed Bess around the side. As I passed, I heard the scrabble of claws on the wood from the other side.

When we made it to Stu, we could only barely see into the house. The last of the dusk sunlight was shining through the doorway at a strange angle, so we only saw the occasional flash of a gray tail, and the reflection of eyes in the dark when it glanced our way. Bess tugged at the remains of the double-door, trying to open the other side of the door that still remained. I heard a whine from inside, and saw another flash of fur. The dog was big. Really big. In the flash of sunlight on fur, I caught a smart, sharp muzzle and alert ears, though they were pinned back along its head. It jumped against the wall again, and I heard the creak of timbers from its weight.

Bess managed to tear the door free of its rusted hinges, and instead of swinging open it just fell into the house, letting in more sunlight. Now fully illuminated, we could see the dog. I'd never had pets, so I didn't recognize the signs. Head low, eyes wide and pupils dilated so far I couldn't tell what color its irises were. Tail between legs, and hinds gathered to jump. I know now that it was terrified of us, even though it was bigger than any two of us put together.

"Aww, he looks lost." I said.

Stu peered in. He wasn't particularly observant, even with his glasses, but this time his common sense pulled through. "Uh, I don't know. I don't see a collar. Maybe he's a stray?"

We all knew that stray dogs existed, though we'd never seen one before. I heard a growl--so full of bass that it reverberated through the ruins of the house that it made my heart flutter in my chest. For various reasons, none of the four of us had ever had a dog, and our second-hand knowledge of them were clearly lacking. None of us knew well enough to be afraid.

So we all just stood there when Bess stepped into the house and said, "Dogs shouldn't growl at people."

The dog growled again, and I could see drool dangling from its lips. The ears flattened out to the sides, and the lips peeled back to show teeth. Fearless, Bess pointed down and shouted, "Sit."

Yellow eyes and yellow teeth.

-

I woke in the morning and my scar was hurting again. This time it didn't go away when I rubbed it. When I brought it up to Dad at our rushed breakfast, he shrugged. "The doctor said you'd feel it for years. I know it doesn't feel nice, but I think that's normal. If it keeps hurting, or if it goes some different color, let me know and we'll call him, okay?"

I nodded and finished my egg and toast. I hadn't dreamed of It for a long time. Maybe being back home--and being angry--had brought it on. It was so strange. I'd read fairy tales and seen picture books, like the Three Little Pigs and Red Riding Hood, but all the pictures had lied. They'd been all cartoons with massive teeth and slavering jaws, made to look more monstrous than recognizable. None of them had prepared me for the fact that a wolf, especially a scared and cornered one, would look just like a dog. We were lucky, we'd been told. It'd just hurt us, a nip here and a claw there--just enough to get out of the house so it could run away. It had been our fault, sort of. But we'd never been prepared for a wolf, because as far as Mom and Dad knew they'd never been seen in this area before. But there it had been, and there we were, and it'd held our lives in its hands. Paws. Well, its jaws, more accurately, because of all those teeth. Here I was two years later, and Dad still was afraid to talk about dogs, as if just the general topic was so scary that I'd flash back to that day and be scared.

Then again, I had just dreamed about it. I felt the same cold rush of fear when I realized--too late--that all of us were in terrible peril. It had jumped directly over Bess. She cowered, and it landed on her back, clawing her shoulder as it leaped again. It caught my face in a bite, and then Stu's arm where it was held up in front of his face. He'd had the breath knocked out of him, too, when the wolf landed on him. James had tried to save him, but the wolf caught him a bite on the leg before it was able to flee to safety.

Dad must have seen my mood, because he brightened up. "Remember I was going to introduce you to my friend today? Hope you're ready! She wanted to take you out bowling. You okay with that?"

That cleared my funk. I hadn't been bowling all year! I helped Dad get all the dishes to the sink, then he drove me to the Candlepin Tower--our local bowling alley. In the parking lot, he met a woman with blond and gray hair. She wore a suit and had a clipboard, which immediately reminded me that this had to do with the court, but I also remembered that Dad said this would help. So be it. I could withstand a bit of bowling if it meant helping Dad out.

"I'm Liz. And you'd be Ed, right?"

I looked up at Dad. He nodded at me. "You okay for me to leave you here for an hour or two, Beans?"

I nodded back, then took Liz's hand. She shook it, immediately winning a few points. She was treating me like an adult! This was a good start.

"I'll give you a call when we're done, Mr. Stevens. You'll be nearby?"

"Yes." Dad responded. "I'll just be over at the library."

"Speak to you soon, then." With that, Liz turned back to me and led the way into the alley. She held the door open for me. I could hear beyond the clatter of pins.

Inside, we both waited in line to get our bowling shoes. While we were putting them on at the lane we'd been assigned, Liz brought up what I assumed was the whole reason we were here. "I know your dad told you, but I figure you'd want to hear it from me as well. I'm here to talk to you. To listen to you. I hope we can be friends."

I scowled at her. "You don't have to treat me like a kid."

"I'm not." She said, matter-of-factly. "I work with lots of people. Even people your dad's age usually aren't ready to talk to a total stranger about their feelings. Anyway, you seem a lot more mature than a lot of the people I talk to."

Liz leaned in conspiratorially. "Some of them can't even tie their own shoes." She looked down at my immaculately knotted shoes and nodded.

I was the first to roll my ball. Even though I was a full year older than the last time I'd bowled, my aim still wasn't good. It bounced once off the right gutter-rail. I was going to say something about being treated like a kid with the kiddie-rails up on the bowling alley, but I secretly liked the sound of the pins falling when my ball ricocheted into them. After another two balls I'd only taken down a total of four pins. Diplomatically, Liz said nothing about it.

"So I bet this is all about the court, and Mom and Dad, right?" I asked.

Liz shrugged. She stood, and picked up the next ball. It fit in her palm. She fired it down the lane at speed. She dropped all but two pins on her first ball and didn't hit either of the rails, though her next two balls only brought down one more pin.

"Nice shot." I said.

"Spend ten years bringing new people in here to break the ice and you'd be a good shot too." She stuck out her tongue at me, which was so childish in comparison to her suit that I had to laugh.

"That's better," she said. "And no, it's not just about the court. I'd like you to talk about your mom and dad, but that doesn't have to be all you talk about."

She sat next to me on the curved bench. "Think about it this way. Your dad has Mr. Liebowitz, and your mom has her lawyer."

"Mrs. Siebel." I prompted.

"That's right." Liz smiled. "But they're biased. You know what that means?"

"It means they have to do what Mom and Dad tells them?"

"Sort of." Liz shrugged. "Your shot."

I stood up, and after three balls I had all but two pins down. The scratchy TV up above showed a new eight next to my name, bringing my score up to twelve.

"It means that they're on your mom's or your dad's side. So since the court's all about where you get to go, it's important for there to be someone on your side and no one else's."

"Dad said you were his friend." I put forth with unassailable logic.

"Well." She said. "I'd never want to accuse your dad of treating you like a kid."

Hanging in the air was that he clearly was. And the fact that she didn't say anything else about it meant that she was treating me like an adult. I liked her.

"It's okay." I continued. "I want to stay with Dad anyway, so I don't mind if you're his friend, too."

"I'll keep that in mind, but let's not rush to it, okay? We've got the whole summer, and I want to hear all about how it's going. Next time we meet will be in my office, so let's talk about your mom and dad then, okay? For right now, why don't you just tell me how your summer's going?"

"Horribly." I said, but without much conviction.

"You don't sound so sure of that." She said, then stood up to take her turn. Nine on her first ball, then nothing on the other two. I wondered if she was intentionally throwing them away, but it'd be rude to suggest it. So I didn't.

I shrugged when she sat back down. So I told her that I'd been having fun, but then about the problems with the Pack--though I didn't mention anything about It or when It'd happened.

"I'm not surprised. Your friends missed you, just as much as you missed them, and different people show that differently. Bess sounds like a good friend, so have you talked to her about it? I mean, away from Stu and James?"

I shook my head.

"Well, you know your friends, and you sound like a smart person. I won't pretend like I know better than you how to talk to them. But in my life I've never regretted talking to my friends. I have, however, regretted not talking to them when I should have. Do you see what I mean?"

"You mean I shouldn't just run off because I think they're being mean."

She smiled and shrugged. "I'm not your dad. I'll leave the life lessons to him. All I meant is that you should take the chance, rather than letting everything go unsaid."

She won--a hundred and twelve to my eighty one. It was okay, because I got the feeling that she wasn't there for the game, and after we talked, I realized that I wasn't, either. Dad picked me up, and when we got home he asked if I wanted to talk about anything. I shook my head, and said that I wanted to go play with my friends.

The Pack wasn't at our secret spot, but when I got there I heard Stu's squeal from the sand pit not far off. When I got there, I caught them playing with the Nerf guns again, this time the two boys against Bess. A quick trip back to the secret spot and I freed the fourth gun from its hook. My ambush was flawless. Stu went down with a scream, and James clasped dramatically at his chest where I hit him. Bess vaulted over her fort wall and let out a battle cry as she joined me, emptying her nerf gun's entire clip into the fallen bodies of Stu and James. The former complained when one of her foam darts hit his glasses. "Not in the face!"

"Sorry." Bess apologized.

Bess and I claimed victory defending the sand pit, which meant it was the boy's turn now. Without me in reserve to ambush, though, the boys held their defense this time.

The afternoon disappeared in a blink. I know that we played more games, but I couldn't tell you now what we did. Hanging over it all was the decision I'd made to go with them--to get them to accept me back into the Pack. Soon enough, the sun had dipped behind the pines. It wasn't dark, but the afternoon was certainly on its way out. The butterflies in my stomach had started to buzz as time wound on, and by this point they were holding a sleepover with a colony of moths and a few bumble bees for good measure.

"You look like you swallowed a frog." Bess commented.

"I want to come with you guys." I blurted out. I'd meant to be so much more mature about it, but when I opened my mouth, that's all that came out.

"You can't. Pack only." Bess shrugged, like it wasn't her choice.

By this point, Stu had put the guns away, and James was observing silently from his seat.

"But I didn't want to leave. You know I didn't want to."

"But you did." She said it so matter-of-fact. She was also right.

"I didn't want to. That has to count for something! Come on, don't blame me for my parents being... Horrible."

James opined, and even Bess shut up to let him speak. "When my parents split it was really rough." He nodded.

"See?" I said. "James knows how it is. He says I can come with--"

"Didn't." James interjected. "Can't. Sorry Ed."

I felt a flash of that anger from yesterday, yellow hot and simmering. My scar hurt again. "Why are you both being like this?"

"Whoah." Stu said from behind me. I felt hands on my shoulders. "It's okay. It's nothing big, Ed. We'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"No!" I shouted. "It's not okay. I don't care if it's something small. My family is breaking up, and now you guys... My Pack is... I just... Rrrrrgh!" The last came out as an incoherent cry.

Everyone was silent around me. They were all staring at me, as if I was some weird monster. Then James' face broke into a grin. What? Why?! Why was he smiling at me, when I was baring my heart to them? Couldn't they just take it seriously for a moment?

"What are you going to do if I tell you that you can't come with us?" Bess asked. "Cry?"

I had the irresistable urge to growl at her. Stu came around us to the side, and his hands were over his mouth. His eyes were wide, and I could tell that he was smiling, too.

"You... You assholes!" I let the swear float in the air. "I'm not going to cry! You're all acting like this is a joke. I'm... I'm..."

"Oh, not cry? So what do you want to do? Hit me?" Bess taunted.

I did. I really wanted to punch her. So I nodded.

"So do it. Hit me. Come on, wimp. You want to be in the Pack? Fight me for it. Asshole." She smiled into my tears. Okay, so maybe I was crying.

And then I hit her.

A moment later I stared at the hole Bess' body had punched in the back of our secret place. The old rotted tree trunk started to disintegrate around the new gap. There was a skid in the bushes behind where she'd been knocked through. I stared in disbelief, then looked down at my fist.

It wasn't my first--at least not anymore. Gone was my light skin, and in its place was fur. Dark and golden. Then my first shrunk back to my skinny fingers. I felt it on the end of my wrist, throbbing like I'd punched a wall.

Everything was too close in here. Stu made way for me as I stumbled outside. I tripped and caught myself with a hand to the ground. Paw to the ground. It was back to the golden fur again, and this time the arm attached to it had the same golden pelt.

"Wow! Ed, that's one--oh! Come on you two, give her some room!" Bess wheezed as she came up behind me. At least, I think it was Bess. I could hear her voice, but it was strange. Then again, I bet my voice would sound strange if I'd been punched through a wall, too.

I looked down, and the ground rushed away from me. I felt the undergrowth and nearby tree branches bounce off of my back. Then I was 'me' again, and flailing in the air as I fell from eight feet up.

"Wha? What's happ--" I gasped, as another contraction of space around me hit, and I felt a clench of my stomach as the world spun around me.

Someone was at my side. His hand felt small on my shoulder. "It's okay, Ed. Let it happen. It scared me, too, the first time." I think it was James, but his voice was off, too.

This time I held onto the ground, dirt and roots and leaves between my fingers as it shot away from me. My whole body thrummed in time with my heart, and it felt like I was bruised everywhere. I felt something around me constricting. Then it burst. I saw my shirt--and pants--flutter to the forest floor in shreds. I reached out and caught a tree. It swayed under my grip. I felt... I felt...

Amazing. That's what I felt. It was like I'd sneezed. And yawned. Then I stood, and it was as if I'd stretched first thing in the morning, and all those little muscle aches just fled. I felt alive.

"Let me through. I want to see her." Bess said, with an undertone of her own growl that made my ears swivel to listen. Wait, my ears turned on top of my head? How does that even work?

I turned and saw her. She stood in front of me, in all of her lupine glory. She was grey-furred, from a light smoke on her belly to a coal-in-the-sunlight near-black on her shoulders. She was tall--so tall that standing she was taller even than the remains of the tree trunk that had been our secret place. I stumbled and she caught me.

"Whoah, there you go, Ed. Are you doing okay? That was a punch! I'm... I'm proud." She was still breathing heavily.

Another pair of arms encircled us, then a second. Two more wolves. I didn't have to guess. My nose told me that the auburn-red one was James, and the light-blond one was Stu. Arms hugged around us. On one wrist, I saw a blank patch in the fur, and through it I saw a scar. Stu's scar.

Bess pulled away and stroked my face. The leathery pad of her thumb brushed tears away from my skin. Fur. Then it traced the vertical lines of my scar--mine must still be there beneath the layers of fur. She smiled into my face, then kissed my cheek. Her eyes weren't devoid of tears anymore, either. Joined by our scars, I knew I'd finally come home.

"It's okay. It's okay. We always knew--we were just waiting for you. We missed you, Ed. Welcome back to your Pack."