She sank into a deep sleep immediately. The fawn stared at her in her dreams.
Rylie wasn’t sure when Louise came to bring her back to camp, but she felt more beaten after her nap than she had before taking it.
“Do you want to go horseback riding with the group?” Louise asked.
Remembering how the horses had reacted to her smell, Rylie shook her head. Louise didn’t argue, so Rylie got the afternoon to herself in the cabin. She spent it poring over The Legends of Gray Mountain.
“There has to be a cure,” she muttered. “There has to be.”
Rylie read the sections on the curse again and again. They listed a half dozen ways to kill werewolves. She was, apparently, susceptible to silver bullets, aconite, fire, and decapitation. Considering three of those four things could kill anyone, and that Rylie didn’t want to die, it didn’t help. She didn’t consider death a cure.
The only suggestion of an escape was a single sentence in the section describing the transformation.
If the cursed one changes on the sixth and final moon, he will change on every subsequent new and full moon until the end of his days.
If the cursed one changes?
Rylie wished she knew how to get a hold of Seth when he was on the other side of the lake. He knew so much more than she did.
She didn’t sleep better that night, or the next night, or the next. And things got worse from there.
Louise had an announcement to make while they were roasting hot dogs over the fire that weekend. “How many of you like volleyball?” she asked. The campers responded with muttering and shrugs. Rylie didn’t like volleyball—or any other sport, for that matter—and remained silent. “Great. I’ve signed us up to play tomorrow morning. I hope we’re good at it, because there’s going to be a little tournament against Golden Lake next Tuesday.”
“Ooh, really?” purred Patricia. “Are the boys coming over here, or are we going over there?”
“They’re coming over here.”
Rylie perked up. “All the guys?”
“Any boy who signs up, but it’s completely optional. Our own sign-up sheet for the tournament is on the mess hall door.”
She stabbed thoughtfully at the coals of the fire with her poker, rolling over a hot dog someone had accidentally dropped amongst the coals. If Seth signed up for the tournament, it would be a perfect time to talk to him.
Rylie stood in front of the sign-up sheet during breakfast, studying the names listed. Amber and her crew had, of course, enrolled. Cassidy hadn’t. Those weren’t the kind of people she wanted to play with. But if signing up meant seeing Seth…
After staring at the sheet for several minutes—and making a line form behind her—Rylie finally signed her name on the bottom line.
They gathered at the volleyball court by the lake that morning.
“Two teams!” Louise called. “Kim is captain of the first team. Rylie, you can captain the second.”
“I don’t even know how to play volleyball,” Rylie said.
“It’s just to select team members. You don’t have to do anything else.” Louise gave her shoulder a gentle nudge. “Go on. Kim gets first pick.”
Rylie and Kim separated out the group. Kim chose all of her friends—Amber, Patricia, and a few other shrews—and Rylie took whoever was left. Nobody looked thrilled to be on her team, and she didn’t blame them. She was terrible at sports.
Louise tossed a volleyball to Rylie so she could serve. She held it aloft in her left hand, glaring at the ball like it had insulted her.
“Let’s do this,” she growled.
She threw the ball in the air and smacked it with her hand. It bounced over to the other side, and she jumped forward to knock it back when Patricia returned it. One of her teammates had to hurry out of Rylie’s way when she lunged to hit it.
The ball struck the ground on the other side. One point.
“Your serve again,” Louise said.
Rylie hit the ball harder this time. Patricia barely missed it. Another point.
Her pulse sped up. The last time Rylie played a game in gym, she had been clumsy and awkward and missed every shot. But now she was fast and accurate. The ball moved in slow motion.
Rylie bounced the ball over the net and leaped back to catch a spike. She knocked into a teammate with her shoulder.
“Watch it!” a girl yelped.
“Sorry,” Rylie muttered. She was too distracted to care. She couldn’t tear her eyes off the ball. Something about the speedy way it moved excited the wolf in her, like she was hunting again.
The other team threw the ball over, and someone on Rylie’s side sent it back. Patricia struck it hard, and the volleyball rushed just over the net. Rylie dove forward, arms extended, and it bounced off her wrists. Amber struck it back to her side.
Rylie leaped up just in time. She spiked the ball and it hit the ground so hard it deflated.
“Yes!” she exclaimed. She grinned and raised her hand to high-five her teammates.
They all stared at her. It was like she had grown a tail.
Her hand slowly fell. They thought Riley was a freak for being good at volleyball, but they would have laughed at her if she had been bad, too. There was no winning. No matter what she did, they were going to hate her.
Her vision went red around the edges. The wolf was angry and Rylie was ashamed. The emotions warred inside of her, making her feel hot and sick.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got another ball,” Louise said. She tossed it over to Rylie’s team.
Yolanda took the ball to serve, and Rylie sat on the bench to watch the game finish. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Everyone was afraid of her, and a good game of volleyball wouldn’t change that.
“Great job, Rylie,” Louise said enthusiastically as Rylie shucked her knee pads into the basket after the game.
“Whatever,” she mumbled.
“You’re really good. Did you sign up for the tournament?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re going to be a great asset to the team. Jericho will be excited.”
Rylie’s eyes snapped up to Louise’s face. “Jericho?”
“He’s helping me run the games. In fact, he’ll be over for practice tomorrow with the boys who signed up,” she said. “We’ll have a skirmish before the real games start. Won’t that be fun?”
I need advice, Seth, she wrote that night on a blank journal page. Jericho is going to be in camp tomorrow. I’m afraid. I’m pretty sure he knows it was me at the boy’s camp. What should I do?
She stuck it in the windowsill and waited. Rylie tried not to fall asleep so she could see Seth take the note, but the hours passed too quietly. She dozed off sitting up against the wall.
When she awoke in the morning, the note was gone, and one from Seth took its place.
Don’t worry. He has no proof.
Rylie crushed the note in her hand. Seth always seemed to visit when she wasn’t around. She wanted to talk to him so desperately. Why didn’t he ever wake her up? Was he afraid of her now that he saw her slaughter the fawn? Without Seth, Rylie would be completely alone.
Seth wasn’t amongst the group of boys who signed up to play volleyball against the girls. They all warmed up after arriving the next day and began to play. Jericho stood on the sidelines with Louise. Rylie could feel him watching her.
The practice volleyball game was half-hearted. Most people hadn’t seen anyone of the opposite gender since the beginning of summer, and more of the campers seemed inclined to flirt than play volleyball. The girls played against other girls while the boys played against other boys, but once they started playing each other, there was much more talking and laughing than actual volleyball.
After a few hours, the counselors stopped trying to keep everyone focused. They broke for lunch and the cooks brought boxes of food to them at the volleyball court. Rylie sat by the water to eat her sandwich, picking off salami and flinging it to the waiting birds.
�
�Louise was right. You’re good at volleyball.”
Rylie looked up. Jericho stood over her with his arms folded. He looked even more massive from the ground.
A sense of wolfish calm settled over her. She took a big bite out of her sandwich, chewing slowly while he stared at her. Rylie should have been afraid of him. She had been anxious about running into him for days. But now that she faced him, she felt nothing. What could he do to her? If she wanted to, she could rip his throat out.
When she finished her sandwich and he hadn’t moved, she stood up and dusted sand off her shorts. “Do you want something?”
“You know what the punishment is for crossing sides of camp?” Jericho asked.
“Nope.”
“On the first violation… nothing, really. You get some privileges taken away for a few days. Maybe confined to your bunk.” He leaned in close to her ear. “But for a girl who’s been fighting? For a girl who broke into the counselors’ cabin? That’s good enough to get sent home.”
She took several large steps back to put distance between them. “Get away from me,” she warned. The wolf was waking up. It would be too happy to take him on.
“I know it was you,” Jericho hissed.
Rylie glared. “You can’t prove anything.”
“You weren’t alone. Who did you talk into sharing your teenage delinquency?” he demanded. She bristled. “You look like you’re getting mad. Do you want to fight with me?”
“No,” she said. It was a complete lie. The wolf absolutely wanted to fight.
“Tell me who you worked with, and I won’t have you sent home.”
Rylie laughed. “Are you kidding me? If I did go sneaking over to that side of the lake—and I’m not saying I did—then telling you who I was with would only mean both of us would get expelled.”
“You’re trouble, Rylie Gresham. Aren’t you?”
“Of course not,” she said. “I’m an innocent little angel.”
Jericho stabbed a finger at her. “You better believe I’m watching you. Step one foot out of line again—”
“Yeah. Big words.”
Rylie crumpled her sandwich wrapper and flicked it at his chest. She returned to the group, trying to suppress a grin while Jericho fumed on the beach. Before getting bitten, she never would have had the courage to be so blatantly anti-authority.
Maybe becoming a werewolf wasn’t that bad.
For the next few days, Camp Silver Brook buzzed over the volleyball tournament. The girls playing on the team were even excused from regular activities to practice. “It’s supposed to be a casual, friendly rivalry, but I’m a little competitive,” Louise confided in Rylie after one practice session.
The night before the tournament, they held a big cookout at the main campfire. Rylie sat down with Cassidy.
“You going to watch the game with me tomorrow?” Cassidy asked. “Sounds stupid and boring. Might as well talk through it, right?”
“I can’t. I’m on one of the teams,” Rylie said.
Her upper lip curled. “I didn’t peg you for a team player.”
Rylie snorted. “Trust me. I’m not.”
Louise came over. Her face was grim and unreadable, and her hands were squeezed together. “Can I talk to you, Rylie?”
“Sure. What is it?”
“Somewhere private,” Louise said.
The counselor led Rylie a short distance away, far enough that nobody could hear them talking. The sun dropped below the trees, casting the forest in golden twilight. “What’s the problem?” Rylie asked.
“I’m so sorry,” she said, taking Rylie by the shoulders. A muscle in her cheek spasmed. “I know you were looking forward to the volleyball tournament. Wait. No, that’s stupid.” She took a deep breath. “Okay. I spoke to the administrators in the office. Your mother is coming to pick you up in the morning.”
Rylie felt dizzy. She was getting sent home? The new moon was in a week, and she couldn’t do it without Seth. “Were you talking to Jericho? Don’t listen to him,” she pleaded. “He’s crazy. He’s out to get me. You can’t send me home! Please!”
“It’s not that,” Louise said, her face drawn tight.
“Then what? Why am I going home?”
“Rylie… it’s your dad.”
The City
Rylie left a note for Seth wedged in the window. My dad had a heart attack. I have to go to his funeral. I’ll be back before the new moon. The ink was smudged on the last sentence where she tried to blot away her tear drops.
Her mom, Jessica, showed up at ten thirty the next morning. Rylie watched the camp disappear in the side mirror, a feeling of dread weighing on her shoulders.
“How has it been at camp? You haven’t written,” Jessica said when they hit the highway.
“It’s fine.”
There was a reason Rylie hadn’t written to her mom. Her dad was more than family; he was a friend. She could talk to her dad. But Rylie hadn’t had a conversation with her mom that hadn’t ended in a fight since middle school.
The drive back to the city was long. Forest and mountains turned into rolling hills. Hills turned into suburbs and small towns. The small towns became big, and then they were at the city, with all its narrow streets and mirrored skyscrapers.
Rylie felt claustrophobic, and stepping into her mom’s high-rise condominium only made it worse. She stood in the doorway to her room with a bag over her shoulders, staring around at the posters she had put up to make her mom’s place feel less lonely. Classic movies, concert posters, art prints. They looked stupid now. Meaningless.
The walls in the condo were a blue-gray color that felt alien and unnatural after the warm tones of the wild. Rylie wiggled her toes on the cold ceramic tile flooring and imagined it was dirt.
She sat on the end of her bed. Jessica had picked out an array of white pillows and a white comforter for it, and everything was just as tidy as when she left. A few of her books from home were on the shelves. Her backpack for school was on the floor of the closet. She even had clothes in the dresser. The only new thing was a white vanity that was not, and never had been, to Rylie’s taste.
Her reflection in the mirror had red-rimmed eyes and puffy lips. She had been crying for a long time.
Rylie found her spare charger and plugged in her cell phone. The light came on immediately, but the battery was completely depleted, so it wouldn’t turn on until it charged.
She stared out the window at the narrow black strip of street. A jogger passed on the sidewalk, white tennis shoes flashing beneath him. A woman pulled a dog away from a toppled trash can. A pair of children played jump rope.
Something ached inside of her. Rylie knew she should have been sad, but she felt too numb to feel anything now.
Her dad would never jog again, or walk a dog, or play jump rope. Just like that, he was gone.
Jessica brought her a black dress and shoes. “I know you don’t have anything for… you know,” she said, laying them across Rylie’s mattress. “I hope you like this dress. Your aunt helped me pick it out.”
“Is he really dead?” Rylie asked.
“Oh, honey.” Jessica reached out like she was going to hug Rylie, but she stepped out of the way before her mom could touch her.
“I just need to hear it from you. I need to know it’s real.”
Her mom covered her mouth with a trembling hand, and tears rolled down her cheeks. She shook her head once and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her. Rylie stared after her. It felt like a giant hole had been carved out of her chest.
She tried on her dress in front of the full-length mirror. It was modest, like everything her mom bought. The hem hit at the knee and the sleeves were short. The scoop neck was just wide enough to show off her silvery claw scars. Rylie wondered, distantly, what Seth would think of the dress.
It felt like a long time since she had really looked at herself. Her reflection had changed over the course of three moons. Her fine blonde hair reached her elbows n
ow, as though the transformations made it grow faster. Her gangly, knobby arms and legs had fleshed out with muscle. Her skin had a healthy copper tan.
Strangest of all, the gold veins in her eyes were spreading. She looked more and more like the wolf as time went on, and less like Rylie.
She kind of liked it. She looked strong and healthy. Like she could take anything on.
Even her dad’s funeral.
Her phone chimed and buzzed. Rylie turned it on to find twelve new text messages and several missed calls. They were all from the guys she hung out with at school. She hadn’t told anyone she was being sent to camp for the summer, so they had been trying to meet up with her for weeks.
The most recent one was from her friend Tyler. Rylie called him back.
“Hey, what’s up?” she asked.
“Rylie? Wow! I thought you were dead!”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re not too far off. I saw your text message.”
“Yeah! You want to see Black Death at The South Den tonight? You’re the only one I know who likes them but me.”
“The South Den is in a really bad part of town,” Rylie said.
“Yeah, but it’s Black Death unplugged! They only sent out a hundred invitations to this thing. I got passes because my cousin’s a barista there. Come on, Rylie. You can’t miss it.”
She bit her lower lip, staring at her reflection across the room. Rylie looked grave and dark in the mirror. She didn’t think it was a good idea to go out and have fun when she was only in town for her father’s funeral.
But what else could she do? Sit at home with her mom?
“Sure,” Rylie said. “I’ll be there.”
Jessica knew better than to ask Rylie where she was going. She wore a loose skirt and her favorite pair of Converse so she could walk to the train station. The three blocks to the station had seemed like a long distance last time she visited, but after weeks of hiking, Rylie found herself passing the stop instead of boarding the train. The South Den was only a few miles away. She felt restless and wanted to move.
The art district became darker and dirtier as she moved south. Shops had bars over their windows and half of the street lamps didn’t work. Rylie ignored the people begging for money and walked on.
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