by Brent Miller
“Stand back here. We’re going to have a discussion after this,” she ordered angrily.
“Sorry,” he shrugged, pointing upward toward the loudspeaker, “I have to get to class.”
“Get back here!” She yelled as he walked off. Ignoring her, Cailean wandered down the hallway, checking the paper in his hand for a room number. It was clear to him that the teacher would not chase him down – at least not with the still-growing line of people in front of her.
As he checked the doorways, searching for the correct room, his father’s advice drifted back into his mind. While his primary purpose for that argument had been defending his own pride and standing up to a rude teacher, he was sure he’d be able to justify it. If starting a fight with a teacher on the first day didn’t make him stand out, he had no idea what would.
The further he got from the entrance, the more bearable the sounds became. Still, he could hear a dozen conversations at once, and his head started to hurt a bit. Trying to distract himself from the conflicting noises, Cailean focused exclusively on the task presented to him. Checking the document to verify the room number, he scanned the numbers on the doors until he finally found his room. Walking through the door, Cailean was surprised to be the first one in the room.
“Hello,” the teacher greeted, reaching out to shake his hand. “I’m Mrs. Cassidy.”
“Cailean Phoenix,” he responded, shaking her hand. Although her hand dwarfed his, Cailean attempted to give a firm handshake. When he noticed a subtle wince on her face, he quickly relaxed his grip.
“Firm handshake,” she complimented.
“Sorry,” he replied, embarrassed.
“No, don’t be. A good handshake makes a good man,” she smiled.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Cailean replied awkwardly, looking at his shoes. He had never been great at accepting compliments. If he planned to go along with his father’s ideas, he knew he would have to learn how to do so eventually. In that moment, though, he just wanted to find somewhere to sit. Cailean turned toward the desks but hesitated before he walked away.
“Is there a seating chart?” He asked her cautiously.
“I trust you to sit wherever you see fit,” she told him with a smile. Cailean nodded before walking to a desk in the front row.
“The kids in the front learn the most,” he explained as he dropped his bag near the desk.
“Well, I will do my best to make sure everything is useful,” she laughed.
As other students began pouring in, she turned and greeted each of them, clearly working on learning names. Cailean was concerned that teachers would care less about their students when he moved into an environment where they weren’t stuck together for eight hours a day, but he was grateful that his assumption was being challenged.
The class proceeded with mostly introductions and an overview of what to expect from the year. Cailean already found himself getting bored as Mrs. Cassidy spoke, but he was careful not to let that show.
Trying his best to give his attention to his teacher, he tried to tune out all of the other sounds. Each other teacher, though, seemed to be screaming to their classroom, as he could hear at least four other instructors giving similar speeches about what the purpose of homeroom was. Just as he was about to raise his hand to ask if she could close the door, footsteps drew his attention to the hall and he noticed that it was already closed. As he looked toward it, though, it burst open and the angry woman from the schedule table stormed in.
“Can I help you?” Mrs. Cassidy asked, pausing her monologue.
“I’m here for Cailean Phoenix.”
“Why would that be?”
“We need to have a conversation about respect.”
“I think you have the wrong student,” Mrs. Cassidy defended. She gently placed a hand on the woman’s back, directing her to the hall. Closing the door behind her, she probably hoped to offer some discretion. It didn’t do much to stop every word from being audible, but Cailean appreciated the gesture.
“I handed him the schedule, I know who it is.”
“Well, when I met Cailean this morning, he was very polite.”
“That’s wonderful, but it doesn’t justify his behavior.”
“Well, I didn’t witness that, and I refuse to punish him for it.”
“That’s why I’m going to.”
“No, you aren’t. I’m not going to allow you to interrupt my student’s class time.”
“Listen, I get that you’re new here –”
“No, you listen. It isn’t healthy to carry a vendetta against a child. I would think someone with as much teaching experience as you would learn not to let things get to you, but here we are. Thank you for informing me of the incident – I will get his version of the story and handle it appropriately. Now, if you would kindly allow me to continue teaching my class.”
Without another word, Mrs. Cassidy opened the door and walked back inside, closing it behind her.
“I’m sorry about that, class,” she apologized before continuing teaching.
After another half hour, a bell rang to dismiss the class. Cailean instinctively covered his ears as the sound of the bell exploded, ringing through his ears and drowning everything else out. The other students stood and walked out, so Cailean tried to compose himself quickly. As he stood, though, his teacher stopped him from leaving.
“Cailean,” she started slowly after the other students had left. “Do you want to tell me what happened this morning?”
“She was rude to me,” Cailean sighed. “She insulted me and said I couldn’t follow directions when they didn’t provide any. I said that they should get better at giving instruction.”
Mrs. Cassidy tried to look stern, but a smile broke out on her face as she started laughing. Leaning back in her chair, she sighed.
“You’re going to be a little troublemaker, aren’t you?”
“I don’t make trouble, ma’am, but I’m not passive either.”
“Very articulate,” she assessed. “Alright, get out of here.”
“Do I have detention?”
“Of course not. Just be careful. I won’t always be there to defend you.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Cailean replied, dumbfounded. Stepping into the hall, his senses were quickly overtaken by the rush of people and the sounds of confusion and conversation. He walked into the middle of the hall, searching for his own class, but the paper in front of him was blurry. The students around him seemed to talk louder and louder, and the footsteps resounded through the halls. Every clap as students greeted friends or scrape as someone failed to lift their shoes from the carpet felt like a gunshot. Looking up, Cailean tried to find a wall to lean on. He’d never felt dizzy before, but the world beneath him seemed to be spinning. Finally finding a wall, Cailean sat down and pressed his back to it, steadying his breathing as much as possible. As the conversations grew louder, though, Cailean failed to tune them out, and his heart started racing.
All of the words began to blur together and the lights started blinking in front of his eyes. Eventually, the sounds became a single buzz, overpowering any thought in his mind. Unable to rationally process the world around him, Cailean found himself hyperventilating. His arms and legs felt like anchors, binding him to the ground, as nausea set in. The buzz of noise only grew louder, deafening him to all else.
When he felt a hand on his shoulder, he wanted to jump away, but he couldn’t budge. Barely able to process any new information, all sensory input began to blend together. Light blinded him, so he couldn’t determine his surroundings, but he felt as though he was moving.
Eventually the sounds died down and he was able to regain control of his breathing. As he settled down, he realized that his environment had changed completely.
“Where am I?” He asked through gasps as he tried to replenish the oxygen in his deprived lungs.
“It’s okay,” a kind voice responded. Cailean felt a hand gently rubbing his arm. Normally, he would have been uncomfo
rtable to feel a stranger touching him, but he couldn’t deny that it was comforting. Anyway, he didn’t have the strength to fight it, so he just allowed the well-meaning person to console him.
“Where…” he tried to repeat, but his voice trailed off. Cailean took another deep breath in attempt to calm himself down.
“Inhale for four seconds. Hold. Exhale for four seconds. Slow, deep breaths,” he mentally instructed himself.
“You’re in the nurse’s office. You had a panic attack,” the stranger answered. Cailean was finally able to turn his head to face the voice. In front of him sat a young girl with long, dark hair. As she brushed her bangs away from her face, he caught a glimpse of her brown eyes. Somehow, those irises reflected more light than any shimmering blue or green he’d ever seen.
Cailean had never looked at a girl and seen her as attractive before. He’d heard that people had girlfriends, but he couldn’t understand why. Of course, on a scientific level, he understood the basic hormones which would cause it, but he had never felt their influence. Lying on the bed in the nurse’s office, though, he could no longer say that was the case. As he looked at the mysterious girl who sat next to him, Cailean felt an unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach. When he realized where he was, though, any positive feeling was replaced with embarrassment. Sitting up quickly, he tried to brush away any sign of weakness.
When he saw her, he’d been briefly distracted, but as he thought again about what had happened, confusion set in. Cailean couldn’t get sick, and low blood sugar couldn’t have that type of effect on him – at least not without days of starvation. His mind scrambled for an explanation, but his efforts were divided as he simultaneously attempted to find a way to recover his image for the girl.
“Woah, slow down,” she told him, placing one hand on his chest and the other on his arm to steady him. Cailean felt weak, but it wasn’t from any illness.
“I’m okay,” he replied, trying his best to sound masculine.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, of course,” he shrugged.
“Anyway,” Cailean added after a moment of silence. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, sorry,” she blushed. “I told them I was your girlfriend so they’d let me come back.”
“Why?”
“You’re weird.”
“Thanks,” he responded, defeated. Silence fell between them again, and the girl finally released her hold on him and sat back. She looked down, clearly searching for the words to say something.
“I used to get them,” she told him – her tone shifting from playful to comforting.
“What?”
“Panic attacks. Have you never had one before?”
“No, I guess not.”
“It’s okay. Sometimes the world gets… loud.”
“It’s happened to you?”
“Yeah. My family moves a lot for my dad’s job. The stress used to get to me. I’ve gotten better at dealing with it, I guess.”
“Can you teach me?” Cailean asked.
“I can try,” she smiled. Cailean looked at her, unsure of how to continue the conversation. He had never felt so stupid in his life, but he couldn’t find the simplest words.
“I’m Cailean, by the way,” he finally managed to say.
“I know,” she laughed. “They said your name a couple times. I’m Brooke.”
Chapter 4
Ten Years Ago
Aldric
"Yes, I understand that you can fight, but you have to understand that a lot of your strength is gone,” Aldric explained to his wife. She hadn’t taken it well when he’d told her that she should train in case the hunters arrived, but he couldn’t quite understand why. Regardless of the amount of training one had, it was always better to train a bit more.
“I did fine without it before,” she defended.
“You didn’t have to fight hunters before.”
“Aldric, what makes you so sure these neighbors are hunters?”
“I’m not,” Aldric admitted. “But even if they aren’t, hunters will come. Werewolves rarely settle down in a town for this very reason. We just have to be ready.”
“Okay, so you want to spar more often? Is that what you’re getting at?”
“That would be a good start,” Aldric acknowledged.
“Let’s go, then.”
“Now?”
“Cailean’s sleeping, I doubt there will be a better time.”
Aldric sighed. He wanted to teach her how to defend herself with a weapon and talk about a protocol in case they were caught off guard. They had to plan a rendezvous point in case the hunters managed to separate them. Knowing his wife, though, any conversation would have to wait until she’d made her point. She was a kind and loving woman, but her stubbornness was rivaled only by his own.
He followed her to the basement, both of them silently agreeing to put as much distance between them and the sleeping baby as possible. At the bottom of the stairs, Linda turned to him and raised her fists. Aldric shrugged and nodded, conveying that she should attack at her ready. Throughout all of their sparring matches, Aldric had never set out to humiliate Linda, and he’d always at least looked like he was trying. After she’d trained with him for a century, she’d actually been able to put up a fight. A hunter wouldn’t grant her any courtesy, though, so Aldric resolved to do the same.
She stepped in and faked a punch. Aldric stood in front of her, not moving a muscle. Linda faked a kick to distract him and followed up with a jab, which Aldric deflected with ease. Following up from her attempt to raise his guard, Linda lunged in and punched with her back hand toward his stomach. Aldric stepped to the side, avoiding her advance, and pushed his palm against her back, pushing her forward.
Nimble as ever, Linda was able to roll forward, preventing herself from falling directly to the floor. Regaining composure quickly, she turned to face Aldric. Neither of them moved in – both waiting for the other to make the next move. Finally, Aldric lunged in and faked a punch to her face. Her guard didn’t move, but he twisted his hips as he punched with the other hand to her gut. That too was a fake, but she dropped her guard for it. Twisting back, Aldric brought his front hand toward her with a hook punch. Within an inch of her face, he stopped completely.
Linda took advantage of his kindness and kicked his gut, knocking him back a bit. She closed the distance as she tried to continue a combination, expecting him to be phased by the kick, but Aldric surprised her with a counter kick. Once again, he stopped just before connecting the attack.
“Are we good?” Aldric asked.
“Okay, you’ve made you point,” Linda conceded.
She threw another punch, trying to catch him off guard, but Aldric stepped in a circle. Her fist passed in front of him and he caught her wrist. With his other arm, he stepped forward, trapping her in an arm bar.
A cry distracted both of them, and Aldric released her with a sigh. Aldric walked up the stairs with his wife close at his heels.
As they reached the first floor of the house, Linda rushed to the crib. Walking back out to the living room, she was bouncing Cailean in her arms.
“Is he hungry?” Aldric asked. Though he was trying to be helpful, he was still not able to determine what Cailean needed as well as his wife.
“I doubt it; I just fed him,” she denied. “I think he just wanted attention.”
Cailean’s cries quieted down as she rocked him. Not a minute later, though, he started reaching for her chest and crying again. Angrily, Cailean started pulling at her shirt.
“Well, he is your son,” she laughed.
“He’s a werewolf,” Aldric shrugged. “He eats a lot.”
“That went over your head,” she smiled, handing him the baby. Cailean still gripped her shirt, refusing to let go. Carefully, she tried to pry his fingers away. After quite a bit of effort, she was finally able to free herself and walk to the kitchen.
“Sorry buddy, but we can’t have you biting your mom,” Aldric ex
plained once again, as if his son could understand him. Aldric had never heard of a bite changing someone into a werewolf, but he assumed that was just because no one had survived a bite. There was a small chance that drawing blood, even in his human form, with his teeth or claws would be enough to infect Linda with the curse once again. It wasn’t worth the risk, so they’d started weaning him from breast milk as his teeth came in. That was almost six months ago, though, and Cailean was still reaching for her breasts when he was hungry. Aldric was thoroughly convinced that it was just because he’d learned that the motion led to him being fed.
Linda walked back out of the kitchen with baby food and a spoon. Cailean cried and reached toward her, so Aldric set him on the ground and he shakily walked toward his mother, holding his arms out for the food. When he was close enough to her, he fell onto the ground and she sat with him, laughing.
“Do you want to eat at the table?” She asked, giggling at his determination to eat at that moment. Unable to process her question and provide a response, Cailean just struggled to get the food. Linda placed the container on the ground in front of him and opened it. She dipped the spoon in, but he grabbed the spoon himself as well.
“Oh, you’re eager today aren’t you?” She laughed.
“Mama,” Cailean babbled.
“Yes, I am,” she laughed. “Do you want Mama to feed you?”
“Mama,” Cailean repeated, tightening his grip on the spoon. Linda let go with a shrug, and Cailean carefully lifted the spoon, watching the food with intense focus. Slowly, he brought it toward his mouth. Just before he was able to deposit the food, he tipped the spoon and it fell onto his shirt. Cailean froze for a minute, but then started giggling. Trying again, he was able to feed himself.
“Well, that’s impressive,” Aldric laughed. “At fifteen months, he can use a spoon better than I can.”
“Well, that’s not saying much,” Linda teased.
“Okay, when I said it, it was a joke. Your agreement was just mean,” Aldric feigned offense. She laughed and the two of them watched their son struggle to feed himself. Clearly, Cailean was going to grow into an independent young man faster than Aldric would have liked.
