Chapter 6: Mayfly (Part 6 of 11)

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Heading out into the night, Amy felt deja vu pulling her back through time. Something about the deep chill in the air, the yellow light of the streetlamps on the pavement, and the dreamy glow from the windows of the neighborhood houses were connected with another moment long ago. Amy might have just told her mom she'd finished her homework and wouldn't be late as she went off to meet her friends.

Lucy's presence helped ground her and keep her from feeling like she'd fallen into a memory.

Amy still wasn't sure what she felt about this new friend. Lucy wasn't the type of girl she'd normally spend time with in her old life. In the hours they had spent together, it had become apparent she was too concerned with fashion and the designers on the labels. There was a frantic air about Lucy when it came to clothes and fitting in which Amy didn't understand at all. Although Amy admitted Lucy had done her a huge favor by raiding her sister's closet for a decent outfit that fit.

The ugly dress and men's boots were gone and Amy felt almost normal wearing the oversized cable knit sweater and jean jacket over the black pants and flats. She was still self-conscious about her hair but Lucy had helped her style it and proclaimed it: cool.

Amy wasn't so sure. However it may look to others, Amy was still freaked out by it.

When they had arrived at Lucy's house, her parents were out and it was just the two of them. Amy hopped in the shower while Lucy played on her phone and listened to morose sounding music.

The noise of the shower barely drowned out the emo band on the stereo but the velvety waves of hot water made Amy forget all about those depressing sentiments crackling out of the speaker in the other room.

Waking up in a ditch by the side of the road made the grime feel embedded into her skin and like she hadn't been clean in weeks.

She began to feel guilty about the time she was spending luxuriating in the cascading streams of liquid heaven. Long after she was washed, she let it roll off her shoulders and down to the small of her back, letting the heat loosen her muscles and erase their tension. It was only when the warmth began to wane, growing colder drop by drop as the last of the hot water ran out that Amy grudgingly turned it off and padded out into the steamy bathroom. She wiped the mirror clear and gasped at the different face in front of her.

Well, the face was the same but the hair framing it was not. Lucy's compliment when they first met finally made sense. Soaking wet, the blonde of her hair deepened in hue to the dark wheat color she was used to seeing. But now new streaks of white striped it in candy cane streaks.

She drew one of the pale tresses away from her head and examined it. All the pigment had gone. Amy had seen pictures of her wolf self. The pale strands was reminiscent of the silver-white fur. What had happened since yesterday?

I turned for the first time above ground. Everything is more connected up here, she observed.

Amy stared a long time at the hair, partially in fascination, partially because it kept her from looking into her eyes. The pale blue eyes that seemed to have their color washed out a degree or two. But that was probably just her imagination.

Even if Lucy thought it was a fashion choice, Amy didn't want anyone to see her this way. It was like being naked—exposed. Her body was showing a glimpse of her beast. Would people detect the rest? But despite this shyness, she was happy when Lucy had suggested they go hang out with her friends after dinner.

There was a strange vibe to the Hanarhan household, which made her anxious to leave. Over dinner, it permeated the room like the stench of illness. It was strongest from Lucy's father. It was as though his pores oozed an invisible, cancerous slime. But it wasn't limited to him. Lucy's mother had nervous, vinegar odor about her and her quick, short breaths hit a jarring out of tune note below the surface hum of the meal. The atmosphere made Amy unable to eat the food put in front of her.

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