Secrets of the Wolves

Chapter 2: Cinnamon Spice

Sigrid

After my uneventful and perfectly boring first day, I decided to go for a run. I was strung tight from the strange encounter this morning that probably came from a ridiculously strong perfume or cologne. My wolf couldn’t stop pacing through the day and she was on high alert for that smell. In chemistry, I thought I smelled it, but the grungy teacher smelled like smoke and greasy fries, so I spent the entire period instead trying not to gag.

Frankly, I’m not unfriendly, but I didn’t want them to find me weird just because I moved around a lot. I also didn’t want to disappoint them by moving, so I felt obligated not to make friends.

I sighed as I walked towards my car, but then stopped as my eyes looked past it. I had parked on the outskirts of the lot, and I found myself staring into woods.

What. You’ve never seen woods before? Your school in Minnesota had woods at the school, too, I thought.

I retorted, Yeah, but these smell strongly of werewolves.

You are not in the pack. Don’t get involved.

I listened to the wise words of my wolf and climbed in my red, 2009, Toyota Camry. My uncle had bought it for me. Technically, my parents didn’t have real jobs, so my uncle’s employer--Marshall Kingston--as if I could forget his name--arranged for them to have online jobs. I don’t know exactly what they do but I think my mom’s some kind of graphic designer. Don’t ask me what my dad does. I don’t think even my uncle knows.

I pulled out of the school, using my phone’s GPS to find my new house. I passed through the circle in the town square and I saw some students littered here and there. I thought I saw a three-room movie theatre, but I wasn’t sure. I definitely saw a Winan’s, and I was very much going there tomorrow morning.

Soon enough, I was driving through my new neighborhood. It was on the upper end of middle-class and all the grasses were green. We were on a hill and there were a few houses for sale, but I ignored them. Not important. I saw my house and parked on the road. When I departed from the car, I sniffed around subtly, not letting my nostrils flare. My mom was inside and my dad was somewhere, as was my uncle. I assumed my sister’s bus dropped her off later than when I got home. That was usually the case.

I used my key to open the front door and I called, “Mom?” When she didn’t answer, I tried again. “MOM?”

“Up here!” she shouted back. Sounded like what was probably the study. Maybe it was her bedroom. I didn’t know. By the time I’d have this house figured out, we’d be moving again.

I tucked my key in my pocket, thinking, I should have a key collection. Imagine how big it’d be! I chuckled at the thought. I could get into any of my old houses. Smiling at the image of me lounging in my old house in who-knows-where when some random hottie walked in, I grabbed a pomegranate and began peeling.

Thirty minutes later, I was sitting at the kitchen table eating my pomegranate and solving Sudoku puzzles. My sister had come home ten minutes earlier and was upstairs--probably practicing karate; I kept hearing ‘Yah!’s and thumps. She was good, I’ll give her that.

My mom walked in and I could feel her eyes on me though I didn’t look up. “Hello, Sigrid. How was your day?”

Oh, what an original question. “It was fine,” I said passively.

I heard her take a breath. She wouldn’t ask about making new friends. She knew that was crazy. My sister was the outgoing one. I knew for a fact she kept tabs on old friends from Oregon, California, New York, and Iowa. I was happy for her, but she was just so different from me.